Now: I spent this week in Tulsa, OK making calls for "The Firm". I happened upon a unusual vehicle and had to stop to take a picture for you to peruse. I was afraid you might not believe my description without one to back me up. The vehicle I saw was the "Smart" car with this very unusual paint job. I have questioned the naming of this car from its inception. Why is it a "smart" car? Is it well versed in history? Does it speak multiple languages? I don't think so! In my humble opinion, it is not a "smart" car. I don't even think it is smart to drive one. I don't like the idea I would have to look up to see the top of the large truck tires in the next lane! It would be bad enough to have every truck driver in the midwest wanting to make you a speed bump but why add to the danger with that paint job? Then every redneck with a rifle and a dream of being a big game hunter will be after you too! Is that SMART? The decision is yours. :-)

Then: After I recovered from my big bike crash and gained a little more experience I was given permission to ride my bike up our farm road to the Lutheran Church about 1/4 mile from our house. My parents told me I could go that far unaccompanied but absolutely no further! After many trips to explore the Church grounds I found myself tempted to turn left at the Church and go on further. I sat at the stop sign on my tiny bike with two tiny angels sitting, one on each shoulder, advising me on important matters of a six year olds life. On the right shoulder sat the good angel saying "Now you know this is against the rules." On the left shoulder sat the evil angel saying "Go for it. No one will know because they can't see you. You're a big boy now." This continued for some time before I finally gave in to the devilish guy.

I rode down the forbidden road, the wind blowing my blonde locks behind me. It was like I was Easy Rider except he did not exist yet! I rode past several houses feeling more confident the further I traveled. Suddenly, a HUGE dog appeared trying to eat my right leg. I peddled as fast as my little legs could go until the dog finally stopped and returned to the end of his driveway. I stopped and turned to face the dog who was waiting for my return. My heart was pounding in my chest. What am I to do? I know this dog must be fed Kibbles and Little Boy Bits by his owner and he is sitting there watching my every move with a big smile on his doggy lips. I can't call for help and the only way home is back the way I came. I know I have to face this canine assain or I will have to face the wrath at home. Which is worse? Dog, Dad. Dog, Dad. Dad, Dog. Finally I realized I was more afraid of my Dad than this trained killer so I pulled myself together, looked the dog in the eye, mounted my trusty steed and charged! I still think I could hear bugles playing "Charge" in the background. I obviously survived the ride home and never told my parents about that evil little angel and how he made me take that ride. :-) Age six was a big year for me! :-)