Tuesday, February 9, 2010
As a teenager I hung out with a group of good ole boys. They were and still are known by their nicknames. There was Cockroach, the oldest who earned his name by eating a really large bug on a bet. Weasel, his brother who looked like a Saturday morning cartoon weasel with glasses and my future brother in law who earned the name Packrat by setting traps for beaver but only caught large rats. Not sure where he got the idea there were beaver about but he tried. I also earned my name. Due to some untethered testosterone and poor judgment I began to rack up a list of speeding tickets and wrecked cars and got the name Crash. The day I got my license I clocked 100mph on a country road. I totaled the parents station wagon in a pasture, wrecked my motorcycle in a curve, hit a boat on the way back from the beach, got hit by a fire truck at a fire and wrecked the ambulance on the way to the hospital with a wreck victim. It just weren’t his day. I had more than a few other minor incidents as well. My multiple tickets added up to a conference with the DMV and 1 year of probation. But I did learn and last month I celebrated 30 yrs of no tickets and no accidents that were my fault. This blog will prolly be the end of that. LOL It must be in the genes tho. We call my oldest girl the red rocket. With my past it is hard to say too much but I do know a good lawyer.