You Want Me to Follow?

My own treasured friends,

Have I mentioned I don't do cars? That means I don't pay attention to what kind of car anyone has. I can usually tell you if you drive a truck or a van or a convertible or a regular car. I also might remember what color car you drive. BUT when it comes to the make, model, engine type, year, etc., all that technical stuff, I haven't a clue. I don't know why. I just have never paid attention to such things. And so my story begins.

There I was, driving my daughter's gray car for whatever reason. Why is it always me? Anyway, my assignment was to follow my son-in-law in a strange town to an unknown place. And we were off. Not knowing where I was going added to the task of not losing him in the heavy traffic, plus maneuvering an unfamiliar vehicle, well, you can understand the pressure I was under. Thoughtless young man that he is, he went through a yellow light and left me behind to stop on the red light. Did I mention traffic was flying in front of me, right to left, left to right?

My eyes never left his car for fear of losing him. Well, I did have to change the CD in the car from Celtic hymns to Bing Crosby singing Irish ditties. I'm half Irish so I've challenged myself to learn as many Irish lyrics as I can. That way, I can sing them to my granddaughter lest the tradition of such falls away from future generations.

So when I look up, I see the light has turned green. The honking car behind me also alerted me to the same fact. I caught sight of said son-in-law readying for a left turn up ahead. (Left turns are on my top ten list of things I try to avoid. That story is in an earlier Blog Blog Blog of mine.) I turn on my signal and got in the left lane, as I finally catch up to him, right behind him in fact. We're waiting for the green arrow to grant permission to make our dreaded left turn when, out of the corner of my right eye, I see a hairy arm with a gold wristwatch flailing out the driver's side window of a car three lanes over and four cars ahead. Curiosity overwhelms me and I lean to the right to try and determine what the heck this hand is waving at. Then I see it. Or rather who. It's my son-in-law. He somehow has gotten ahead of me and away from me. I look at the car now turning left and realize it's the very same color vehicle as that of my son-in-law. They are both black. Now how was I to know the difference? Remember my earlier reference to never taking note of makes and models of cars?

Is this another Lucy moment in my life or--toe cramp, Toe Cramp, ouch, OUCH, ouch, easing, easing more, almost gone, gone, all better now-- or what? Oh go ahead. Add it to my list if you want. However, little did you know my diabolical scheme to rid myself of ever having to follow anyone driving anything is falling into place... Pretty clever, huh? Life is better when you rely on a little spit and the random ricochets off the backsplash of your mind as I do.