On Having My Wings Clipped

At the beginning of March I was nabbed by a "bear in the air," as I was cruising along on I80 doing 102 mph in a posted 65 mph zone.  As a result I am serving a 15 day suspended license period which is set to expire in four days.

I am not missing driving my car at all during this period of being unlicensed, but I am missing jumping on the scooter and just going.  Going anywhere, nowhere in particular, just to feel again that rejuvenating and addictive sensation of flying on a chair with wings as I once described the feeling of being on the scooter and just going for the sake of going.

I can't go to the park that I often haunt in the summers - the one with the colorful gazebo where I thought that I'd enjoy blogging out in the great outdoors only to discover that being without an internet connection made writing on the laptop less of the experience that I'd hoped it might be.

I can't go to the county park where there's nothing to see or do except to rejoice in the fact that it's the time of year when the gates aren't closed because of the season.

I can't go to the back roads and byways where I often do the nebulous kind of introspection that doesn't reveal anything new about myself to me, but which gives me a good brain scrubbing and mental purge nonetheless.

I couldn't go to the first get-together of a new, local scooter group this past weekend.

Yes, I suppose I can admit graciously that I deserved to be punished for my misdeed.  I had to pay the standard fine, of course, but then, because I'd exceeded the speed limit by more than 31 mph I had to attend a hearing after which it would be recommended to Harrisburg that I'd have to serve a suspension of my driving privilege, take an on road driver's test, or both.  Because this was my very first moving violation ever, I'd kind of assumed, especially after attending the hearing and finding the gentleman on the other side of the desk to be gracious, warm, and hospitable, that I'd be stuck with the lesser of the possible punishments.  I was very surprised when I opened the letter that arrived about a week later, informing me that my license was being suspended.  Now that the 15 day suspension is almost over, I suppose I'm feeling somewhat fortunate in spite of being stuck in the house because I didn't have to face the indignity of taking an on road test like some pimply faced teenager, and because the suspension period was able to be served after school got out and I didn't have to drive to work.

I've made the same trip as the one on which I was "nabbed" three times since I got the ticket.  On each of those three trips I've set my cruise control to the posted speed limit, and simply steered.  Going 65 now reminds me of when I first got the little scooter and was viewing the world at around 30 mph every time I took it out.  There's a lot to see when you're going slower.  A lot more to enjoy when you're not looking over your shoulder every 15 seconds to see if there's a cop behind you or trying to remember to slow down at every interstate crossover lest there be a trooper poised between the division and aiming his radar gun in your direction.

I wish I'd remembered that before I had to relearn it the ugly way.  As my favorite uncle often says when he sees somebody driving in an awful rush, "If you're that much in a hurry, you should have left yesterday."  I will try not to forget that the next time I'm behind the wheel, or the handlebars.  And the time after that.  And the time after that.  Ad infinitum!