Under the Radar

Do you like to sing or dance (sitting in your seat, of course) while you drive? I DO!
I dance and sing and laugh out loud wherever I am.
I run in stores and ride my shopping buggy
down the incline to my vehicle when I’m in a parking lot.
And I stomp in puddles when it rains … if I’m wearing my rainboots, of course.
I’m kinda like a five year old …. in a big-girl body.

Over the last year, I’ve had several opportunities to drive my girl’s awesome, fun car!!

And ya know what I’ve noticed?
*speaks very slowly*   You  .  really  .  can’t  .  dance  .  in  .  a  .  red  . Mustang.
(You can quote me on that, if you’d like.)
Okay, you CAN sing and dance, but you’re going to get stares.

In fact, driving in Glory’s car means
stares no matter WHAT you’re doing in the driver’s seat.

Going back and forth from my nondescript, bland brown grocery-hauler
to her hot, shiny red convertible has
given me one more reason to love my Voyager:
I drive it
under the radar.

When I’m in my van, nobody notices me. I am in.cog.nito. I am only let into a line of traffic when I inch out just a little bit and wave at someone in traffic to get their attention. And even then … some people will completely ignore me.

I have never gotten a ticket in my van. never. Not for speeding or any other traffic violation. I’m invisible, I tell you … absolutely undetectable.

In that red hot rod, it just ain’t so. In fact, Glory told me about one time when she went under an overpass and had a policeman who was shooting cars with a radar gun come down the ramp to follow her.  There wasn’t a car around her, so she knew he was coming down for her.  She was absolutely certain that she was not speeding. There was no reason for him to leave his post, except that he wanted to get a closer look or try to catch her doing wrong. He didn’t pull her over, but he got close enough to check out her tag and see who was driving.

I absolutely assure you this has n.e.v.e.r happened in my charcoal colored Plymouth. No one has ever gone out of their way to get a closer look at me in my van.

Now wait. Don’t be mistaken into thinking that I find this favorable because, in it, I can do things illegal. I’m not a speeder. And I don’t really have any reason to catch the attention of an officer. I’m just saying that I can do things … like sing with animation or talk back at the radio DJ … and go unnoticed.

People notice red cars …. and Mustangs …. and convertibles. In fact, I remember not so long ago, I was driving Glory’s car with the top down. I glanced in my rear view mirror at a stop light and saw a guy around 30 making a hand motion as he talked to the guy in his passenger seat. He was driving a sort-of nondescript truck. His hands were both up over the steering wheel and he was making a questioning facial expression. I could just imagine he was saying, “Would you look at that? Man, what a waste! A old lady driving a a car like that! Another mid-life crisis! That ought to be illegal.”

I have thought about having a magnetic bumper sticker made to put on her car when I drive it. It would say,

“I’m not having a mid-life crisis; This is my daughter’s car”

So, as much as I love driving Glory’s fun car, in coming to this realization, I am giving one more reason to love my sweet, brown Mom-ride: when I drive it, I am imperceptible.

So, if you live around Augusta
and you’ve never seen me out and about,
there’s a reason for that:
I’m Invisible.

And I like it that way.

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