I pride myself in driving at or near the speed limit.

Imagine my surprise when not more than an hour after leaving family for the return trip home, I saw flashing blue lights in my rear view mirror. The officer said I was going 61 in a 55 MPH zone, usually a pretty safe speed.

Not today, the day after Christmas.

He took my papers and retreated to his car while I waited for the ticket, quite bummed. I haven’t gotten a ticket for centuries and to get one for the speed I was going was rather depressing. I thought about a variety of excuses I could use.

“My speedometer is 5 MPH off (it is) and I have to estimate what speed I am going (I do).”

“I was looking at the lake (which I was).”

“It’s the day after Christmas, sir (true as well).”

In other words, I could ignore the lesson.

The officer came back to my window. “(Mispronounced surname) That’s German, isn’t it?” he said.

“(Correct pronunciation) Yes. Yes, sir. That’s right,” I replied.

The officer smiled and handed me back my papers with a yellow slip. “Just a warning. Slow down, son.”

Bono said the same thing a few miles down the road in the song playing on the CD.

How can one ignore the same message minutes apart from a Sheriff from Ohio AND the lead singer of U2 the day after Christmas?

“Slow down.”

Which I tried to do, all the way home.

Lesson learned.