August 18, 2025
Though I’ve been fortunate to have some amazing experiences in my life, you could never accuse me of living life in the fast lane. Unlike the Eagles, I guess I did not know the right people, take the right pills, throw outrageous parties, or pay heavenly bills. Oh well. As Joe Walsh would say, “Life’s been good to me so far.” In that same song, in one of music’s great lines, Walsh also said, “My Maserati does 185. I lost my license, now I don’t drive.”
I have been pulled over for speeding twice. In both instances, I was going far slower than 185 mph. Neither time resulted in a ticket, I never lost my license, and both law enforcement encounters are stories worth retelling.
The first time was back in 1994. I was driving from our home to Malibu High School, where I had to supervise a wrestling match. One of the great things about being a principal and living close to the school was that I could go home for dinner, spend a little time with my family, then head back to the high school for evening athletic events, arts events, or meetings with parents. This time, I piled my then four-year-old son Ryan into my 4-cylinder Ford Ranger pickup truck (#notaMaserati), and off we went. I drove the half mile stretch of Pacific Coast Highway to the school, turned left and as I was turning, I saw a Sheriff’s car screaming up PCH with his lights flashing. Imagine my surprise when he turned behind me and told me to pull over.
He walked up to me, and I had to turn down the cassette player. Ryan and I were singing along with Home on the Range as we had been puttering up the highway. The Sheriff asked, “Do you know how fast you were going?” I responded, “45? 46?” (The speed limit is 50) He goes. “No. You were going 97 miles per hour.” I said, as the music was still playing in the background, “Look at this truck. It’s four cylinders. And you can see that the speedometer only goes to 80! We’ve been traveling less than a minute on the highway, and we’re singing Home on the Range.” He started to get uncertain, and asked, “Well, where were you going in such a hurry?” I said, “We were not in a hurry (that’s when Ryan put his hand on my shoulder to get me to calm down), and I’m the principal of the high school, and we’re going to watch a wrestling match. He said, “Well . . . I like principals. Let me look at your record, and if you have no previous tickets, I’ll believe you this time.” My record was spotless, and he drove away. I wonder if it’s humanly possible to do anything fast while singing, “Oh give me a home, where the buffalo roam . . . “
Fast forward 30 years for my next time to be pulled over for speeding. This time, I actually was driving in the fast lane. I was in Little Rock, Arkansas, driving on the freeway with my Dad. We had three lanes on the southbound side, and the speed limit was 65. I was going about 71, passing cars going at the speed limit, when a State Trooper pulled me over. I told my Dad, “Well, this is going to be my first ever speeding ticket.”
The officer walked up to my Dad’s side and looked in the window and asked, “Do you know how fast you were going?” I said that I knew I was going 70 or 71. He said, “Exactly.” I was ready for my fate. He then raised his voice and admonished me, saying, “Son, you were driving TOO SLOW in that passing lane. This isn’t a lane for SLOWLY passing other vehicles. If you’re going to go that slow, stay in the right lanes. There are people with guns out here, and they’ll stop at nothing to get a slow driver like you out of the way.” I glanced at my Dad, then said, “So . . . am I getting a speeding ticket?” He said he would be watching me, and I and better stay out of the way, or I would get a ticket of some kind. I simply replied, “I understand, sir.” And that was it.
After he drove off, I asked my Dad, “Did that really just happen?” Dad shook his head and it was the craziest thing he’d ever seen.
Though I may have had some poor speed-related decisions, and well, just some poor decisions, in my youth (What do you expect when the 1972 Monte Carlo you’re driving has a 402 cubic inch engine with a 4-barrel carburetor?), I am quite comfortable with my non-fast-lane life. My friend Craig, who may or may not have had his wilder days back in high school, and may have gone slightly above the speed limit in his Mazda RX-7, often says, “I’m just driving 35 in the right-hand lane…flashers on and hitting those little cuts in the concrete that wake you up!” That State Trooper would not approve, but I’m all good with that attitude.
I wrote down these stories because they still make me smile and shake my head, but I don’t even know if there’s a lesson to be gleaned from them. I think it’s healthy to sometimes be adventurous and crazy, I think that you can insert humor into almost anything. I think that every day is worth celebrating. And I think I can do all of that while mostly coloring within the lines.
Take from them what you will – but I always love a good story.
Post #136 on www.drmdmatthews.com
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NOTES
Some people didn’t like that I drove that two-door not at all fancy manual transmission truck. They thought a principal should drive a fancier car. We got it for true bargain – my wife’s grandfather bought it the day after he was told he could no longer drive. It was a protest action that I admire, and we got to buy it from him.
After that, I drove a Nissan Maxima. Next was my favorite vehicle ever, my Honda Ridgeline pickup truck. Some of my truck-loving friends who actually read are rolling their eyes, and yelling, “IT’S NOT A TRUCK!” It was a super cool truck, and I sold it when it had 240,000 miles on it. The guy who bought from me it does a lot of construction work in Malibu – he has fixed it up and it makes me smile every time I see it. It may see the 500,000-mile mark.
I drive a really nice car now. My 2016 Honda Accord has been a spectacular and incredibly reliable car. I just passed 161,000 miles on it, and it’s running beautifully. It can go a lot faster than my 1988 Ford Ranger, but in general, I keep at (or just a little bit above) the speed limit.
Finally, early next year, we hope to hear Eagles sing Life in the Fast Lane and much more in The Sphere in Las Vegas. The Kenny Chesney Sphere concert was a highlight of our summer. Old Rockers Rule!
Photo created with ChatGPT.
Mike:
Your Ford Ranger chassis would have made an excellent base upon which to drop the body of a Ford woodie and then add a 351 cubic inch “Cleveland” Ford hot rod motor, an automatic overdrive hydro transmission and a Ford 9 inch rear end. Beef up the suspension a little and get the biggest disc rotors that would fit for brakes – oh yes, and a sound system for playing the Beach Boys or the Ventures of Jan & Dean. You’re welcome. Welcome to woodie world.
Great story. One final piece of advice: Drive it like you stole it. Have fun.
And, of course, it’s always good to have a beater truck for parts fetching – my 2003 dented up Ram has 336,000 miles on it – feel free to use it for my paddle out to sink with my remains when the time comes.