Recommended wine for today’s entry: Tonight I’m going to see Sex and the City 2, which means I should drink Cosmos, but because they are too sweet for me and, more importantly, they turn me into a psychotic, I think I’ll have a glass of Hanna sauvignon blanc (2008) instead. It got 90 points from Wine & Spirits magazine. It’s supposed to have citrus scents and an almond taste. It’s from the Russian River Valley and I think it sounds intriguing and just perfect for a sultry Friday night.
Here are two things that will REALLY surprise all of you. 1) I went for a walk Wednesday, completing ONE FULL WEEK of committed exercise; and 2) I took a glass of wine along with me.
BUT WAIT! It’s not as bad as it sounds. I mean, it was like 9:00 at night and when I got home I was going to start making dinner, so it was like catching up on cocktail hour but not using it as an excuse not to exercise. So I think that is actually very impressive and I know that you are thinking the very same thing. I appreciate your accolades and will continue to impress.
Anyway, while my daughter Sam and I were walking, a patrol car pulled up to us and stopped. It caused quite a spike in the ol’ blood pressure — Sam’s I mean. I have always been one to follow rules but this child makes Citizen’s Arrests…so when the nice county policeman rolled down his window, she immediately thought mommy was headed to the slammer, styrofoam cup of pinot grigio and all. When she saw me maneuver the 80-pound dog I was walking over to the cruiser’s window, she stared at me and darted her eyes really fast. If I read it right, she wanted me to fling myself behind a nearby forsythia hedge for immediate cover.
The officer explained that he was looking for a woman with long blonde hair and a blue tank top and sunglasses who allegedly (it’s important to stress alleged because she has not been proven guilty in a court of law) … well, she allegedly had been seen WALKING AROUND THE NEARBY STREETS all day and a few people had called the po-pos on her.
No, I wasn’t wearing a blue tank top and my hair isn’t very long.
After we offered our input (no sir, I haven’t seen her, but then again, I’ve got me a big ol’ glass of the devil’s juice in this here coffee cup, so maybe I’m not as alert as you’d expect me to be, but that’s why I’m not the neighborhood watch chairman …) we continued on our way. My daughter and I then entered into a discussion of our past interactions with the county police.
A couple years ago, on Derby Eve, Sam and I were headed to Kroger because that’s what total losers do in Louisville while the whole rest of the city is at the track. We had just commented on how great the city looked — for the two weeks before the Run for the Roses, hoards of volunteers tidy up the roadsides and parks, picking up trash and weeding and such. Well, mostly inmates do it, but I am sure there are some volunteers who like hanging out with inmates who help too. But the area looked stunning.
We were enjoying the idyllic setting and had just passed a couple farms for retired thoroughbreds when a young whippersnapper in a BMW pulled out in front of me without looking left-right-left again OR coming to a full stop at his stop sign. Two infractions plus rude behavior. I believe I said OH MY or STUPID BASTARD or something equally appropriate to say in front of my then-17-year-old daughter.
And then, before I knew what was happening, his friend whipped into the 12-foot gap between my car and the BMW. Now remember, I had already stomped the brakes in an attempt to decelerate from 50 mph to 20 so as to avoid impact with the first rude driver. So now I was VERY angry and my daughter was pontificating about teenage drivers, which was an interesting perspective as she was one herself.
But then the BMW boy opened his sunroof and THREW OUT AT LEAST 300 PIECES OF PAPER. We saw his carload of heathens turn and laugh as the papers smacked into their pursuers’ windshield.
Well, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. My daughter yanked her phone out of her pocket like she was drawing a pistol.
Hello, is this the Oldham County police? I don’t know what you can do, but these two carloads of teenagers are driving really recklessly and they are gonna hurt someone and not only that, they just threw a BUNCH of papers out of their sunroof.
… Uh, yes ma’am, I do mean it … they are littering. A lot of littering. It’s all over the road and it’s Derby time and there are a lot of people in from out of town and it looks really really REALLY bad along the road.
…Well, I have their license plate number. (Here the lady actually must have written it down because she obviously read it back.) Yes. OK, you’re welcome. Um, ma’am — I can tell you which way they turned on the highway — y’all can probably catch them if you go now.
I know what you’re thinking. That the dispatcher probably tore up the report and laughed and laughed about the teenager who just called to tell on the litterers. Nope. When we returned from the grocery, nearly all the paper was picked up and there were some pretty angry kids cleaning up the roadside in the hot afternoon sun. It was probably good training, because I think that the whole group will be inmates soon enough.
The policeman who was supervising the clean-up gave us the “It’s all in a day’s work” look as we passed.
The next time we needed our local law enforcement, the whole family was returning from a high school football game at about 10:00 at night. We turned onto the highway that leads to our house, a two-laner with sharp curves and hills and a 55-mph speed limit. Suddenly, right in front of us, we saw hooves. Lots of ’em. And on top of the hooves — the rest of the horses.
Same daughter makes the call: Hello? Is this the County Police? I need to report a bunch of horses running down the highway.
…Let’s see…there are, it looks like about seven of them. They’re running toward Prospect but they are not staying in the right-hand lane and there are some big curves coming up and we’re afraid someone’s gonna come around the curve and you know…you know what might happen then…right, smoosh them. We think we know who they belong to. They are really very fast horses. They are headed…
Well, once again, we called and they delivered. The herd turned into the driveway next to ours and we lost ’em, but soon saw what must have been the whole police force working through the area with strong flashlights and the next morning the wayward equine gang was back in their appointed pasture, grazing and pretending the previous evening’s shenanigans never happened.
So I guess the call about the wandering woman was just par for the course out here in the boondocks. She didn’t sound threatening — but as all us baby boomers have learned, “Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?”
We’re just lucky we have a responsive police force. And that I didn’t get busted for having an open container and a leash.