Gray Hair And Speeding Tickets

I found a gray eyebrow hair yesterday. It was trying to hide, but came to light as I was plucking its brethren, and it died a speedy death. After I disposed of it, I remembered the old wives tale that if you pluck one gray hair, five more grow in its place. That sounds just like something they would do, those tricky little bastards.

I do NOT wish to think about what else might be turning gray, as it is just too grisly to contemplate right now. Plus, today I had my eyes checked and I have to get bifocals. Double aging whammies, bam BAM!

However, I comfort myself with the absolute knowledge that aging doesn't slow you down. I mean that literally, it doesn't slow you down. Our resident wild-child, better known around these parts as Grandma, got a speeding ticket. She was driving 50 in a 25. I know this because I was in the car with her. Just as we hit railroad tracks with a BANG and entered free-fall, blue lights started flashing. "Uh-oh", muttered the elderly speed demon and pulled over.

The cop obviously thought he had a live one, as he had called for back-up. Did I mention this happened in a town even smaller than the one we actually live in? He must have thought he popped a gangsta running drugs, or maybe a murderer fleeing the scene of the crime. Good Lord! The excitement, the drama! His partner rolled up and he ran to our car. He was visibly deflated to find instead a flustered old lady, her smirking daughter, her mortified granddaughter, and her delighted grandson staring back at him.

"Ma'm, was there a reason you were going so fast?" he asked her in bewilderment. Grandma was flushed and looked like she might break into tears at any second.

"I don't know this area very well, Officer, I had no IDEA I was speeding." she replied in her best wavering, confused-old-lady voice. She is a sly minx, as that is a bold faced lie, and after she said it, she surreptitiously glanced at me and winked.

He stood and stared at her, mouth agape for just a second, then shrugged his shoulders, defeated. As he wandered back to his car, dragging his feet to tell his back-up buddy the gangsta was just an old lady and NOT America's most wanted, I felt kind of sorry for him.

Finally, he came back and sloooowly explained to the doddering old Grandma, who was becoming more pathetic by the minute, how he was only giving her a ticket for going 40 in a 25 and how to pay that ticket in Court. He nobly tried to ignore The Boy, who was shouting "Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi!" from the backseat and waving at him to beat the band, but he just couldn't do it. He waved back with a smile and left. What a nice guy.

As we peeled out of the parking lot in a spray of gravel, the steel-haired Speed Racer guffawed out loud. "He could have gotten my license for that!"she exclaimed with glee, relishing the fact that the Officer was a sucker.

It seems you're never too old to stick it to the MAN.