the    sides

So I’m running to a lunch appointment yesterday and I decide to go “the back way” because it’s shorter. Through Elbert County. That has a whole of 3 sheriffs. Elbert County is across the street from the church so it’s not a long drive. The longest school zone in the country is right there. I slow to 25, a couple of miles later I reach the blazing speed 33 mph and that’s when I notice the pretty blue lights.

Now for an aside to fill in some backstory…I’ve gone a couple times to get a Colorado drivers license. Both times, there have been people out the door, the wait over 4 hours long. A couple of our friends waited 4 hours to get a license only to be turned away because they were closing. It’s state government at its finest. It was an experience that even caused Amy to cry. Amy has only cried 3 times in her life. Never mind the fact that the last time I was in there, there was a 4 hour wait again and the lady said not to worry, I had a year to renew my license.

Back to the pretty blue lights. So the officer informs me that I was “flying through the school zone at 33 mph.” So he goes back to the truck and comes back with his partner. His partner is on the other side of the car, unsnapped his holster and he is “assuming the position.” I know the position because I was in the military and they train you to get in “the position” if you expect ‘action.’

“Mr. English, how long have you been in the state?”

He’s got my registration in his hands so he knows darn well how long I’ve been in the state. I resist the urge to state this and just answer his question.

“Here’s the problem, Mr. English. You’re speeding through a school zone with an expired out-of-state license. So option A is I arrest you, impound your car, and someone comes bail you out. Option B is I escort you back to your point of origin today and you call someone to take you immediately to go get a Colorado license.”

G: “I’m guessing there is no “C” option, huh?”

“You are correct.”

G: “Let’s take Option B then.”

“Where do you work, Mr. English.”

Here is where I just start laughing. I point over my shoulder. “I’m one of the pastors at Pinecrest.”

He starts laughing and shaking his head.

“Good night. Mr. English, give me word you won’t drive today until you get your license.”

“Done.”

I now have a Colorado license. I went to the next county to a different office. It took 10 minutes.

Living on the edge.