may get a little embarrassing and I hope you will not
think less of me for some of my "wit and
humor" that might be considered by some as
"tasteless," but I am going to take a real
chance here and share with you the way I spent
Valentine's Day 1998 with my folks! Since we all have,
at one time or another, had some type of experience with
a "cop" that left us with a story to tell (or
perhaps one that we hoped would never be told!), I
thought you might enjoy a "cop story" (no
relation to the famed "fish story"--every word
of this one is TRUE, but please don't take offense!) and
this will give you a 'small' background on me (of
course, I hope it will also "entertain" you)!
Well, couldn't be too bad if my folks were with me, you
say??? Hmmmm…let's just say I can look back now and we
can all laugh together, but....boy, oh boy! What a trip!
begin, be forewarned that:
tried to spell correctly, but some things I don't even
know how to spell, so that's my story and I'm stickin'
"story" will be very lengthy so make sure you
have some time on your hands and a good helping of
patience and tolerance close by before you start because
you may have to draw off of it in order to make it
through to the end [of the journey]!
might want to read this message in private without any
"extra ears" close by and have a couple of
bandaids on hand because I hope you are going to bust
your sides laughing out loud (LOL!!) as you read it!
your reading glasses, pull up a comfortable chair, sit
back and get ready to "ride"...
My mom was
born and raised in "down the road a piece,"
which is maybe slightly over an hour's drive from where
I live. She and a girlfriend moved to "the big
city" as soon as she graduated and could get a job,
so she has lived in town most of her life. However, her
parents (my grandparents) are both buried in the
"down the road a piece" small church cemetery.
While my parents were still young enough to 'scoot
around at their leisure,' the two of them used to go
"down the road a piece" to the little cemetery
before special occasions and holidays and put flowers on
the headstone. It had been a good while since anyone had
been there. My mom has one [younger] sister, but she
lives in a waterfront town "up the road a
piece" from where I live, which puts her about 2 or
2 ½ hours away from the cemetery.
had been quite some time since I had been there so I
didn't remember exactly how to get to the cemetery. I
asked the folks before we left if they knew how to get
there. [FIRST MISTAKE!]
Sure do!" was my dad's response; "I think
so!" was my mom's response. Why should I not
believe them? After all, they had been there many, many
times and my mom grew up there. Not that much has
changed, believe it or not, since she lived there. I
mean we're talking real backwoods country! So off we
went on Valentine's Day....
backed out of the driveway, I asked them if I needed to
go down Route 460 or down Route 5. [SECOND MISTAKE!!]
way you want to go...you can get there both ways,"
they both agreed, so why should I doubt them! [THIRD
I don't know how to get there either way," I said,
"so which way do you want me to go?"
"Doesn't make a lot of difference...either way will
be fine!" they both assured me. So, unsuspectingly,
off I headed down Route 460...
miles down the road and an hour later on the clock I
thought surely we had to be getting close! So I gave
them a little reminder... "You know, guys, I don't
know where to turn so you're gonna' to have to tell me
when we get there." [FOURTH MISTAKE!!!!]
said, "Well, I think you've come too far." My
mom said, "No, I don't think you've gone far
enough...I think it's a little bit further down [the
road]." Finally, I saw a sign that boasted the
name of this little town, so I turned there because,
obviously, they weren't going to say anything. They both
agreed this was okay.
Got to a
fork in the road...car behind me...gotta' go right or
left... "Which way folks?" [FIFTH
left, one says right! So I took a left and now we were
all lost! I said "Where is it we are trying to get
Courthouse," came the response from the back seat.
"Okay," I said, thinking 'the Courthouse' MUST
be in the town (of course), so the next sign to the town
I see, I take that road! [Notice this was not a
mistake!] Not a creature was stirring, not even the dogs
(yes, we even took the dogs along)! Down a two lane
road, across a one lane bridge, through ahm...let's just
say "the boon docks," around 753 curves, past
a horse and buggy (no, just kidding about the horse and
buggy)...and there we were...right back where we started
from!! By this time, we had wasted another 45 minutes of
daylight and we were still lost!!
as I was "following my nose" to get back to
Route 460 and start all over again, we found a sign that
said Courthouse. "There's the sign," said my
dad, "it's straight ahead down this road. I thought
it was down this way." (Yeah, right! Sure you did!
Then why didn't you say so 45 minutes ago!) Besides,
there ain't a 'straight ahead' road in the whole County!
Oh sure, he knew it all along, huh...just wanted me to
take the long way around so that he could see all the
"beautiful scenery" and enjoy the ride, I
Now I have
to admit that we did manage to find the little store he
was talking about that sells the packages of cured ham,
but after we found it his brilliant comment was
"...since it's so late, we'll stop there next
time." "Not on your life or mine, kiddo! We're
stopping this time...there may not be a next time if you
get me this lost again!" I told him.
could you get lost?" said the little old lady
behind the counter who lives right down the road (and
has probably lived there all of her 93 years and never
been further than the county line!), "…all you
had to do was take the left at the fork...or you could
have stayed straight on the road you came in on and come
straight on down." Yeah, I should have known that
all along, right? I mean it was sooooo obvious! I'll try
to remember that when I come down next time another 5
years from now!
finished...back in the car...on the road again! Another
35 minutes gone by! Getting darker, but even if it's a
"city mile" I think we can still make it
Finally found it! Even recognized where I was when I saw
the turn to the church and the cemetery on the hill.
(Who wouldn't recognize a church with a cemetery when
that's what you're looking for, right? Especially when
it's likely the only one in the town!)
the flowers on the headstone...dug up the old faded,
windblown, dried out silk flowers and the wet flower
pots...put the trash in the trunk of the car (no place
else to put it-no trash can in the cemetery, of
course)...took a couple of pictures...my dad took a…ah…liquid
bathroom break…and off we went to find the little
diner they knew about where you could buy a good ole'
home cooked meal for a bite to eat before we forgot how
to get back to the main highway and got lost in this
Everything's going good now! Everything's fine!
Valentine's Day! Things are settling down! Found the
restaurant with no problem (dare I hope the rest of the
evening is gonna' turn out good since there isn't that
much left of it?) ...even had a buffet with
("surprise!") one of my favorites--all the
crab legs you can eat! Hey! This may turn out to be a
great Valentine's Day after all!
can forget that! I should have known when "cured
ham country" said "all the crab legs you can
eat" that there was going to be a hitch! Still, the
meal was acceptable even if the service was lousy! Took
us a long time because my mom had never had crab legs
before and even if she knew how to eat them, she didn't
have the strength in her crippled hands to crack them.
So I had to help her. Meanwhile, the evening crowd had
flocked in and were standing in line at the door glaring
at us-all three of us taking up a table for eight. Well,
that's where the hostess seated us...sorry about that!
finished...bill paid...bathroom breaks taken...back in
the car...puppies given their treat...on the road
again!! [SIXTH MISTAKE!!!!!!]
outside of the "big city" limits (about 10-15
miles from home), dearest dad discovers he doesn't have
his glasses. Had them on at the restaurant, but can't
find them now...must have left them on the table. I
pulled in at a service station and he searched all his
pockets, the seat, the floorboard, his bag of goodies
from the 93 year old lady in the little store that sells
the cured ham--everyplace [he said!] and no glasses!
Rather than go all the way back down the road to the
restaurant which could well be closed when we got there
anyway, I went in the service station to get the phone
number for the restaurant so I could give them a call. I
thought this was pretty logical on my part (that's what
I get for thinking!)!
said the clerk, "no numbers listed for that town in
the "big city" phone books." (Now why
didn't I think of that!) Convinced I'm not going to let
this get the best of me, I got back in the car and
called information (411) from my cell phone to get the
telephone number for the restaurant...and since I didn't
have any paper to write it down on, I was hoping I could
remember it after I got it. Hark! The recording answers!
That irritating monotone voice is spouting off the
number followed by, "Please hold while we dial that
number for you."
is great! Now I won't have to try to remember it (which
would be next to impossible anyway with my slightly
impaired memory!). Now we're getting somewhere I thought
(again!). So, of course, I held on while my robot
operator dialed the number for me. [SEVENTH
started ringing and then the dreaded scourge of all cell
phone users-the "dead zone".... Regardless, no
more ringie dingie...no more dialie dialie…the
"robot" had disconnected me (deliberately, I'm
sure!) without even a "thank you, ma'm" …and
trust me-no more patience! Not only did I not get the
restaurant, I didn't remember the doggoned telephone
I sit with two "children" in the car who want
to know when we're gonna' be home and when they can go
to the bathroom, a dog who smells like he already has,
and I know through all of this that times a'passin and
that by the time I go through all of this again, I could
have driven to the restaurant and maybe gotten there
before it closed!
"Miss Logical" here started back down the
road...45 mph…55 mph...60 mph.. BIG MISTAKE... 65
mph.... BIGGER MISTAKE ...70 mph... BIGGEST MISTAKE! BIG
blue lights goin' round and round! Busted! Maybe it's a
mistake! Must be a mistake! Couldn't be a mistake--no
one else on the road but me and the BIG blue lights! Put
on my blinkers...pulled off the side of the
road...grabbed my purse which doubles as a suitcase and
could easily accommodate a submachine gun, an oozie, a
.357 magnum, and probably a body if it was folded
right-- all without visible detection from the outside!
see the cop for the flashlight in my eyes, but I knew he
was there!! I could tell by the BIG blue lights!
I clocked you on my radar at 68 mph--this is a 55 mph
zone," he purred. Here I sit--trying to get my
drivers license out of the "gun bag"...
nervously babbling something or other about going back
to get glasses before the restaurant closed...when I
thought I heard the cop say, "Slow down and have a
nice evening, ma'm." Surely, I must have heard
wrong! Did he really say that? Cops never say that--I
watch TV just like everybody else! Good things never,
but NEVER, happen to me so this simply could not be
possible! I am a living example of bad luck looking for
a place to happen... typical Murphy's Law-if something
can go wrong, it will! But if I'm dreamin', please,
Lord, let me not wake up until the BIG blue lights are
cautiously inched back out on the highway, almost
fearful that I would see the BIG blue lights and hear a
siren this time followed by my cop with that big bright
flashlight and a bigger pair of silver handcuffs
growling, "Where do you think you are going?"
my dad sitting in the backseat said sheepishly, "He
must have thought you were good lookin' to let you go
without giving you a ticket." (Yeah, thanks dad...I
really needed that! Don't need you to remind me I should
have gotten a ticket! With my luck, he'll hear you and
turn around and show me his BIG blue lights again!).
daddy, I don't think that's what it was...more like he
shined that big bright light in here and saw my white,
straggly hair; a dog who has to go to the bathroom; and
the two of you and that cop probably figured 'I don't
have the heart to give this lady a ticket...she's got
enough problems already!'"
eventually did get back to the restaurant...it was still
open...his glasses weren't there…never did see the BIG
blue lights again either.
one more thing! Before we left the restaurant without
his glasses, my dad wanted me to get down on my hands
and knees in the parking lot in my pink spandex pants
and look for his glasses under all the cars close to
where he thought we were parked, but I refused! I could
just see it! Headlines in all the Sunday morning papers
in that country hick town-"Person in Pink Pants
Plastered in Pig Parking Lot."
we were leaving the parking lot, we did find his
glasses. They were still in the case lying in plain view
right on the rear deck shelf in the back window of the
car where they had been all along! (Good thing Mr. BIG
Blue Lights didn't see them back there or he would have
locked me up for sure!)
about the end of my Saturday Valentine's Day adventure!
I guess the moral to this story is "Person who
wears glasses should wear glasses to see," or maybe
it's "Person who let blind person lead deserve to
go on wild goose chase" or something like that!
said, what a trip! Someday I'm gonna' write a
book...maybe I'll send you an autographed copy!