Pull over!

The flashing lights behind you on the highway always make your heart pick up the pace, which seems to create abdominal pressure that causes your stomach to fall to your knees.

But this time I was sure, absolutely certain, I was not doing anything wrong. 

It had been a long afternoon. Among the events, on the other side of the county, and in another state, was a long session of grooming for large family-size dog Tralfaz. His freakout had begun before we even left home, but the power of cheese got him in the car (that being my wife's new SUV -- he won't get into my smaller vehicle) and he panted all the way to the groomer.

Now, hours later, both of us exhausted, the sun down, I drove along the highway toward home. I was maybe two miles over the speed limit, which in New York is considered going slow, but sudden stops are hell on Fazzy, who refuses to ever lie down in the backseat, so it pays to take it easy. And I was following (not too closely) a tractor trailer that was also going a pleasant speed. 

So why the hell was I being pulled over?

Bad Fred, bad Fred, whatcha gonna do?

I carefully drew out my wallet so I wouldn't go grabbing for it when he showed up and think I was going for my gun. My stomach sank a little more, knowing I did not have the registration on me, that it was at home in my wife's purse. I hoped desperately that Tralfaz would behave when the trooper showed up, and that I would remember how to operate the window switch.

And I kept wondering what I had done wrong.

You may have already guessed. I had been driving in the dark with the daytime running lights only, so I had no rear lights. The new car has automatic everything, unlike mine, so I assumed that the lights had gone on; this impression was supported by the fact that we were on a well-lit road and the daytime running lights on this car illuminate really well. I didn't have the lights on Auto; I had them on Off.

The trooper couldn't have been nicer. Didn't even ask to see my license (although I'm sure he ran the plate just in case). I apologized when he explained what happened, and he checked when I got the damn lights on to make sure they worked front and back. He wished us a happy new year and we parted ways.

Tralfaz never made a peep, bless him.

So that was my road adventure, and I'm glad it turned out okay, and didn't involve money and points on my license. But it did remind me to read the manual. These new cars do seem to do everything for you, but relying on this stuff tends to get me in trouble.