With urchins going back to school, police have started adamantly enforcing School Zones and ticketing those speeding. You may also spot an influx of minivans clogging up the streets as you try to get to work.
The area in which I reside has to hold the distinction of most schools per square mile. Families are often concerned with how good the schools are in an area and what the student to teacher ratio is. In this town realtors promote the schools to kid ratio. There are at least five schools within a mile radius of my home, making it one giant 20 miles per hour speed trap.
In an effort to alert drivers to the School Zone and reduced speed limit (turtle-esque), the town has placed what I affectionately call Speed boards on the thoroughfares.
These electronic signs have the wrong affect on me. I view them as a challenge, like a radar gun in baseball. The digital red dots alert me to my speed. Unavoidably, my right foot feels heavier. I can't control it. My car starts moving ever faster, the numbers on the sign continue to increase. My eyes are then fixated on the sign and not on the sidewalks to see if there are any children about to dart in front of my rapidly moving vehicle. Then I pass the sign and my foot's weight returns to normal. Out of my control I find myself pulling a U-Turn. I need to see if I can best my previous speed.
The sign serves as a calibration device to see if my speedometer is working properly. Until you are pulled over, you have no way of knowing if you were really going 85 mph. In my previous car, I really had no clue. The speedometer might have been the last functioning instrument on The Beast.
Pleasant driving.
