speed

It was definately not a cold day today. This to me is beginning to get disturbing. If god wanted us to be having 60 and 70 degree days in Febuary, he would have made North Carolina into Florida, and we would all go shop at the publix and drink 8% alcohol Steel Reserve, as opposed to Harris-Teeter and 6% Steel Reserve (Thank you North Carolina lawmakers.) It is not a happy vision I am having of July in CH: 80 degrees at 9 AM, 90 degrees at Midnight, $100 power bills, that terrible feeling when your back starts sweating against your superheated car seat while the AC is still blowing hot air. It is all on the way people, and as much as I enjoy spring, I would like for spring to occur during SPRINGTIME. Me being a person that enjoys sometimes sleeping on my stomach, I hate really hot weather, because as you will know from rolling over, it always feels hotter when you are laying on your belly. I guess your back isn't much of a heat factory, or perhaps it is that your frontal region is much more sensitive, but either way, it is not a good situation. Laying on your back is cool and all, but you need that extra variety for those nights when it becomes difficult to reach optimum sleep positioning. The free iTunes songs from Diet Pepsi count has reached 2, not too impressive since tonight at work I drank 2 and won nothing. That 1 in 3 stat better hold true. Also, if you haven't driven down friendly Hillsborough street lately, the town of CH has decided to place a radar sign there, ostensibly to discourage speeding on the steepest road in Orange county. As if the rumble strips in front of townhouse weren't already doing their job. However, in the case of individuals such as myself, the plan seems to have backfired. My current record on the sign is 42, and I average in the 36 to 40 range fairly consistently. The intended speed limit is 25; the school buses don't even abide by that. Whatever intended consequences that the sign was to have, it seems to have taken on an entirely different course with the college age residents of the lower portion of Hillsborough. To understand the roots of my slight addiction to speed, one has to return to the days of the gray fox, my original vehicle. Being a F-150 from the model year 1987, featuring a homemade wooden tailgate and sliding glass rear window (No AC) the fox was not quite the sexy choice for a speed machine. As the speedometer only went to 85, it didn't seem that Ford Motor Company felt it was a triple digit threat either. But behind the wheel of the gray fox, I discovered that she was a wolf in sheep's clothing. One night returning from a JV football game in Elkin, I was challenged by a car heading north on 21; youthful pride kicked in, and the Fox was floored. As the speedometer approached 85, my passengers and I waited anxiously for what might occur once that barrier was breached. Would the wheels fall off? Would the Rods blow through the hood like rockets on the Fourth of July? Would the Fox even make it? To the collective suprise of all inside, and surely to the other car, the speedometer did not stop, and no catastrophy ensued. In fact, the needle continued to wind, all the way to the stop peg under the 0. Who the hell knows how fast this was, but damn, it was quite a statement delivered by the old girl. Once this was discovered, the terrible fuel mileage was no barrier to pushing the limits of the 55 mph Alleghany county limit. This eventually resulted in 2 tickets and attendace of a driving school in Duplin county, all of which are stories for another time. The need for speed was born in those red vinyl seats, with a 4 speed regular cab ford named the Gray fox for its striking two tone gray paint scheme (one element of the gray was primer, the other a paint job done by my neighbor stan in his garage). However, since my dad was extremely pissed after ticket #2, the tendancy has reduced quite a bit. Hey, A.M. pays the bills.