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Page 3
As I think back, I visualize myself symbolically tap dancing in the street while conjuring up a story about taking a short ride to test the motorcycle's new brakes that I'd just installed. "I was just about to turn around and head home, officer. I live right down the street."
It was also the first time my mother received a call from the police to pick up her son. She'd assumed the call had come from the local police, so she headed to our town's police station. When she learned I wasn't there, the desk sergeant called around and found out the neighboring police force had me in safekeeping. My mother also got to ride in a police car for the first time that day when one of the detectives drove her over. Thankfully, she didn't lecture me. We all knew I'd been stupid and there was no need to hammer the point home. Besides, I was now facing a day in court when a judge would determine the fate of my still-to-be-earned driver's license. I was a freshly minted juvenile delinquent facing hard time in the big house. After leaving the police station, another officer drove us to where I'd parked my motorcycle on a sunny tree-lined street. He drove behind me as I pushed the 450-pound machine back home and into the garage. During the following weeks, I stewed in my own juices while waiting to go to court. I heard a variety of stories about the fate of other underage unlicensed drivers. Some had gotten off with a warning, some had to wait an extra six months before they could take their driver's test, and some had to wait a full year. When the day finally arrived, my mother, father and I all headed off to juvenile court. We were very subdued. Soon after arriving, I happened to see a former guidance counselor from junior high school who was testifying in a case involving one of his students. He asked me why I was in court and I explained. He then stated unequivocally, "They'll give you a warning then send you home." And that's exactly what happened. The judge listened to my account of how I was "test riding" my new motorcycle when the police officer stopped me. The judge briefly questioned my mother and father about my driving. And after eliciting our promise that I'd refrain from driving before registering the bike and getting a driver's license, he said, "Case dismissed. Let's go to lunch."
The copyright of the article My ignominious introduction to motorcycles and the law - Page 3 in Motorcycles is owned by . Permission to republish My ignominious introduction to motorcycles and the law - Page 3 in print or online must be granted by the author in writing.
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