Frankfort incident took care of writer's block
Posted: 12/30/2009
By James Mulcahy
For 29 consecutive months the words have flowed with ease. I've always written the next month's "A Slice of Life" first thing after I put an issue to bed.
Not this month. My writer's block is writer's blank. At this moment (it's early November), I have no idea what's coming next.
I also have no clue why the words are so difficult all of a sudden. Business is great and I'm very optimistic about what the future holds for Shelby County Life, so that can't be it. Life in general is very good; I've got the best wife and family for which one could ask. My car is even running fine.
I'm laboring, I think, because I want this Slice to be clean: no jagged edges and not so deep it brings blood. And it would be nice if it were at least a little profound.
(Heavy sigh.)
Then it happened. God saw that I was struggling to find a topic and, like the good protector he is, handed one to me.
Who knew God has such a sense of humor?
Had he offered me a list of topic choices, this one would have been very close to the last, but since that's not how it works ...
It happened Saturday, Nov. 14. Leaving Frankfort, I was turning west onto U.S. 60 from U.S. 127. As I approached the traffic signal, I saw green change to yellow. Against all my learning, experience, griping and finger-pointing, I felt I had already committed to the turn (in my defense, yellow-to-red occurred way too quickly).
Have you ever had one of those slow-motion moments, when something happens that seems to take 10 or 15 seconds when in reality it's like half a second? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him. As I rounded the turn, I saw him in my rear-view mirror. I saw him lunge forward, and I saw his flashing dreaded blue lights.
Darn. He'd seen me, too.
I pulled off the highway into the first driveway I could find. I guess it's cruel irony that it was the headquarters of the Kentucky State Police. Even though I had absolutely not considered trying to outrun the cruiser (which is built for speed) in my Kia (which is not) I had to chuckle at the thought of stupid criminals who do things like pulling over in this particular spot. Sometimes the silliest of thoughts come to mind when you least expect them.
Officer King, with the Frankfort Police Department, was very nice. "I pulled you over because ..." I stopped him and said, "I'm pretty sure I know why you pulled me over."
After what seemed like an eternity, Officer King returned, handed back my license, proof of insurance and registration and noted my clean driving record. That gave me hope that I might get off with a warning.
In my mind I knew he had been away too long to be practicing his warning speech. Instead, he handed me a piece of paper worth $163.
I'm guilty so I'll take my medicine and vow to be a better driver. The really irritating part of all this is that only $20 of that $163 is actual fine; the rest is for court costs. I have to wonder what costs the court will actually incur when I prepay this ticket. All they have to do is stamp it "PAID" and bank the check. I guess the state has to pay for all these new courthouses somehow.
Not this month. My writer's block is writer's blank. At this moment (it's early November), I have no idea what's coming next.
I also have no clue why the words are so difficult all of a sudden. Business is great and I'm very optimistic about what the future holds for Shelby County Life, so that can't be it. Life in general is very good; I've got the best wife and family for which one could ask. My car is even running fine.
I'm laboring, I think, because I want this Slice to be clean: no jagged edges and not so deep it brings blood. And it would be nice if it were at least a little profound.
(Heavy sigh.)
Then it happened. God saw that I was struggling to find a topic and, like the good protector he is, handed one to me.
Who knew God has such a sense of humor?
Had he offered me a list of topic choices, this one would have been very close to the last, but since that's not how it works ...
It happened Saturday, Nov. 14. Leaving Frankfort, I was turning west onto U.S. 60 from U.S. 127. As I approached the traffic signal, I saw green change to yellow. Against all my learning, experience, griping and finger-pointing, I felt I had already committed to the turn (in my defense, yellow-to-red occurred way too quickly).
Have you ever had one of those slow-motion moments, when something happens that seems to take 10 or 15 seconds when in reality it's like half a second? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him. As I rounded the turn, I saw him in my rear-view mirror. I saw him lunge forward, and I saw his flashing dreaded blue lights.
Darn. He'd seen me, too.
I pulled off the highway into the first driveway I could find. I guess it's cruel irony that it was the headquarters of the Kentucky State Police. Even though I had absolutely not considered trying to outrun the cruiser (which is built for speed) in my Kia (which is not) I had to chuckle at the thought of stupid criminals who do things like pulling over in this particular spot. Sometimes the silliest of thoughts come to mind when you least expect them.
Officer King, with the Frankfort Police Department, was very nice. "I pulled you over because ..." I stopped him and said, "I'm pretty sure I know why you pulled me over."
After what seemed like an eternity, Officer King returned, handed back my license, proof of insurance and registration and noted my clean driving record. That gave me hope that I might get off with a warning.
In my mind I knew he had been away too long to be practicing his warning speech. Instead, he handed me a piece of paper worth $163.
I'm guilty so I'll take my medicine and vow to be a better driver. The really irritating part of all this is that only $20 of that $163 is actual fine; the rest is for court costs. I have to wonder what costs the court will actually incur when I prepay this ticket. All they have to do is stamp it "PAID" and bank the check. I guess the state has to pay for all these new courthouses somehow.
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