I don’t speed, I just can’t slow down

Tom Grout

Published Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Last fall I had a little trouble with the law as I was picked up for speeding twice.

What is so funny about this is, I am not a speeder. I always drive my family nuts on trips because I either drive the speed limit or just a little above.

You know just above enough so you don't get pulled over. In my younger days I found out I didn't have much luck when it came to speeding. I always was in the wrong place at the wrong time and driving just over what I was suppose to. So because of that history I try not to chance it anymore because quite frankly I can't afford the ticket.

My problem isn't speeding, it's slowing down that I have a little trouble with. It's when I am driving along down the highway and have to slow up for the speed zones, the ones where you are approaching a town or the out skirts of a town. I just don't slow down fast enough.

Last Fall I was coming into town from the road by the Legion and my mind was on something else, as it usually is, and I came sailing into town a little too fast. I was going 49 in a 35 I was soon to be told. The lights were flashing behind me about the time I had reached Minnesota Motors. I wasn't quite sure they were meant for me yet, I'm just such an innocent guy, so I turned to go to the Journal. Then I finally realized the lights were for me so I pulled over.

The officer was very nice but he came up with the old "Where ya goin in such a hurry?" line. How does one answer that when you truly don't have an answer. But like I said the officer was a nice guy and just gave me a written warning.

A few weeks later I am coming home from Duluth. We had just dropped off my number two son in Duluth where he is was going to live for awhile. My wife and I were on our way home and as I was approaching some small town on the other side of Aitkin. Now this town wasn't all that big, and I drove through it not paying much attention except to the Viking game I had on the radio.

I came to a stop sign, stopped, at least I think I did, then when I started again I noticed the flashing lights in my mirror. I am totally oblivious at this time as to why I am being pulled over.

The officer comes to my window and asks, "Do you know why I pulled you over?" And since I really didn't know I looked at him sheepishly and said, "No?" Then he said, "Didn't you see the sign?" Then he became very animated kinda like Chris Farley on Saturday Night live. "Didn't you see that big sign?" as he spread his arms out to make it seem like the sign was quite large. I said, "No?" "You mean," He continued, "You didn't see that big sign I went through a lot of trouble to get. You didn't see it?" "No, I'm sorry." I replied feeling a little sorry for him by now.

It was apparent that I wasn't the first Jeff Gordon who raced through his town. I mean if he had to go through a lot of trouble to get his big sign and seeing the total frustration in his voice and body language, I knew I wasn't the first. He then took my drivers license and went back to his car with his arms waving away as he mumbled to himself. It was then I started to think about this sign I had missed. I almost wanted to go back and see it. I didn't think you were allowed to doctor up a speed sign.Was it in neon? Was it the size of a billboard?

By the time I had figured out it might not be in my best interest to go back and look like I was some kind of tourist or something, he was back. This officer turned out to be very nice too, frustrated, but nice because all he gave me was a verbal warning and then said I was going 49 in a 40. So you see I was slowing down, it just wasn't fast enough.

He left me with these words, "As you keep driving through these small towns, respect their speed limits!" All I could say was, "I'm sorry." He then turned, stomped back to his car shaking his head and waving his arms wondering how anyone could miss his big sign.

I want to thank the two officers in this story for not giving me a ticket. I really didn't have a defensible excuse, except that I don't speed, I just can't slow down.

Tom Grout’s column appears Wednesday’s.