My sense of balance is challenged even before I don the distortion goggles.
Four high school seniors zipping along country back roads in the wee hours of prom night. John is driving, and I am behind him in the back seat, our dates aligned on the passenger side. We have gone out to dinner, attended the dance and played games at the official post-prom, and now we are on our way to a classmate’s home for breakfast. Up to this point, our behavior has been exemplary, our innocent revelry free of any and all inappropriate activities, but now John is speeding, and this transgression has just been noted by local law enforcement.
It is heart-stopping to be a teenager and to hear the siren and see the flashing lights that signal an officer’s direction to pull over. We are terrified. Well, at least three of us are. As the sheriff approaches our car, John seems remarkably composed. He rolls down his window and asks with a sincerity that would have made Eddie Haskell proud, “What seems to be the problem, officer?” I am simultaneously mortified and amused; I want to laugh and to disappear. Read More