West Virginia
As I pulled in to Oakland, WV (a small town next to Thomas), I was coasting down a long hill, and a tiny Volvo pulled out into the road, going about half my speed…. I couldn’t believe the nerve and rude disregard, and I almost smashed her from behind… I slammed a heavy-handed, California-righteous-indignation-horn-blast as I swerved and dodged to the right, narrowly missing her…
After a couple minutes of therapeutic green-tree driving, my nerves had calmed down and I had forgiven her of all her trespasses. I was letting bygones be bygones, enjoying the free nature, when I saw the flashing red and blue lights in my rearview mirror… ugh… I wasn’t sure why I was getting pulled over, but all the soon-to-be ramifications and outcomes were racing through my head…. how much money was this ticket going to cost…. how would this effect the bottom line of the tour… how many albums would I have to sell to make up for the loss…
While I was doing the math, the police officer approached my window…
Officer: “Do you realize you passed that car back there on the right side?”
Michael: “Yes, sir. I did not want to crash into the oncoming traffic, sir.”
Officer: “If you hadn’t been SPEEDING, you wouldn’t have had to worry about that. You were going 50 in a 40 mph zone.” and he walked back to his car with my license and registration….
I could see in my mirror, another police car had come up behind, and the second officer got out and joined him at his car.
10 minutes later he came back to my window.
Officer: “What are you doing here in town, where are you headed?”
Michael: “I am going to Thomas, sir… to play a concert.”
motioning with my hands, like I was strumming guitar…
Officer: “Oh, you’re playing at the Purple Fiddle?”
Michael: “Yes, sir.”
Officer: “Ah, are you a folk singer?”
In that split second, I had a flash of a dilemma…. and wondered what the correct answer was supposed to be…. Am I a folk singer? “Hell NO! How dare you!” Am I a folk singer? “Hell, yes! Now kiss my pinky ring.”
But then it hit me… right there… right in that moment… a personal revelation like a bright light, Pualine conversion. It didn’t matter what he wanted to hear… I thought, “Hmm, I guess, I am… I am a vagabond, troubadour folk singer…” and with the inspired conviction of a first-time visitor at an AA meeting, I decided to go all in, own it, and let the chips fall where they may…
Michael: “Yes, sir…. I *AM* a folk singer…”
He paused… kept chewing the inside of his cheek… and slowly looked back towards his car… then leaned in a little closer and peaked up over his sunglasses…
Officer: “Well, I’m going to give you a warning this time.” He scribbled a little on his pad, and handed me a “warning” ticket. “You have yourself a good show tonight, and watch your speed.”
I might have been a little delirious from the sudden release of all the bottled up, steam-pressure stress, combined with a day’s worth of driving… but as I drove off, all my turrets syndrome happiness exploded and I sang with giddy glee the entire rest of the way to the show…