There was a time when the slender
pointer on my speedometer
lived on the high side of the dial.
I used a lot of gas, burned a quart
of oil now and then, but
the ride was worth it!
Then, speedometers had hands
that moved around a circular
dial in direct relationship to
the decibel output of glass packed
mufflers. My back fenders wore
skirts, my rear end was dropped
two inches, and the wide white
sidewalls gleamed surrounding
flashy chrome hubcaps.
That\'s about the best you can do
with a \'41 Chevy sedan.
Not a lot to work with.
Today time, ingenuity, and plastic
have redefined the car I drive.
A digital speedometer tops out
at 150, but I don\'t make it
much above 60 these days.
I don\'t seem to be in such
a hurry anymore. I actually
enjoy seeing things along the
way, really seeing, instead
of insisting that the wind
ripple my hair, which
now be a physical
impossibility
according
to my
mirror.
I used to think about speed, horsepower,
cubic inches, and superchargers.
I slept with Hot Rod magazine
under my pillow.
But,
it\'s a different world,
a different time, and
I\'m a different man.
Now it\'s energy saving,
environment, hybrids and GPS
since the edges of my memory
aren\'t as sharp as they used to be.
The trip is slower, the
chassis has changed, but
the journey is equally
exciting.
In last Sunday\'s sermon, my pastor
asked, rhetorically, \"How fast is
fast enough?\"
Well, I think it was that,
and now it\'s this,
and that\'s the way life is.
And that works for me.