1. We're at the frigging dress rehearsal when Laura calls on Andy's cell phone to say that all our house alarms are going off. Luckily we were just 1 mile away, and we raced home (thereby missing the second run-through of the closing number for the show). We managed to turn the thing off and determine that nothing was wrong. It was one of the hard-wired fire alarms, and it probably got triggered by some dust or something. The alarm guy is coming out tomorrow to take a look. Meanwhile, why didn't the fire department show up? They're supposed to receive a call as soon as our alarm goes off. Poor Laura must have been pretty rattled, but she kept the kids calm. If it had happened during the night, particularly if Andy was away, I probably would have had a heart attack and died.
2. Afterward, we decide to go out and get a bite. Seems like every restaurant is closed or crowded. Then—shit!—Andy is pulled over for speeding. The cop says gruffly, "48 in a 30 zone. Any good reason?" to which Andy replies contritely, "No, sir. I was just driving too fast." Then, the cop disappears with Andy's license and registration. (At this point, I have to fill you in on something: Andy wants a motorcyle. I forbid it. Last summer he took a safe-riding course and got his motorcycle driver's license, which is indicated on his car driver's license. I continue to forbid it. Now you know.) So the cop comes back and says, "What kind of motorcyle do you have?" Andy says, "I don't have one. I just have the license." Cop says, "Wrong answer. The correct answer is Harley-Davidson." Grins. Andy laughs and I bud in with, "He'd love one, but I won't let him!" and the cop says something about me being "the warden." I tell him that if Andy gets a motorcycle, he can get an apartment to go with it. The cop laughs and gives Andy a warning, saying that if he does anything naughty in the next 30 days, he's in big trouble.
Note: Andy has a friend who's a cop. He told Andy a few things to keep in mind if you get pulled over (particularly for men). First of all, keep both hands on the wheel where the cop can see them. Second, when he asks for your license and registration, ask permission to reach for your wallet or into the glove box or wherever. And move slowly. It's very scary for cops to approach a car, and they really appreciate it when you make it easier for them.
I've also found it particularly helpful to cry (this works best for women).
Now, back to the motorcycle thing, and with apologies to Karine: I'm terrified of motorcycles! No matter how careful you are, some jerk in a car or, worse, SUV can still plow into you or cause you to swerve and skid. And if you have a motorcycle accident, you're going to die. Or wish you died. So after the incident with the cop tonight, Andy said (half jokingly, I think), "So, now aren't you glad I have my motorcycle license?" meaning, "Now don't you think I should get a motorcycle?" I said that as far as I was concerned, the motorcycle license allowed him to avoid a $180 (gasp!) speeding ticket, and now its little purpose was completely fulfilled. That was the culmination of it all, right there. He begged to differ.
I'm scared of motorcycle too - though I did ride piggyback on some in my teens.
I know a mom (acquaintance) of an 8yo & a 4yo who has one though and had a bad accident last year. Last I saw her she was in a motorized wheelchair and appeared to be a partial quadriplegic. It looked like she could only raise and use her left arm. I feel so bad her.
Posted by: mayakda | March 29, 2004 at 04:10 PM