What a morning! The weather was impeccable and that blue sky I love to write about was flawless. I was running ahead of schedule and that in itself was a blessing. I pulled into Leo and Sons Mobile to fill my car up with gas and was reaching for my checkbook and humming “Bennie and the Jets” when the nearly perfect morning came to a screeching, merciless halt. Dale, one of the sons in “Leo and Sons” asked me, “Is your car registered?”
“Is my car registered? I sure hope so. I have until the end of August.” He shook his head slowly. “Nope. It ran out the end of April.” I blinked at him a few times. “You have got to be kidding,” I said. He shook his head again, “Nope. April.”
I swallowed hard, still in disbelief. “I guess I had better get to the City Office right away. Thank you, Dale.” His smile was one of understanding and empathy. I pulled out the red folder that holds my registration and insurance card and winced. It was as plain as could be that the car’s registration ran out four months ago. I had driven all over Aroostook County, Bangor, and even on the University of Maine at Orono campus.
I headed straight for the City Office, praying I would make it without getting pulled over. With no police in sight, I pulled into the city office parking lot, drew a ragged breath, and with shaking hands, gathered up my paperwork and hurried into that office; my eyes scanning the parking lot for the police. I wanted to hug the lovely lady behind the counter as she processed my renewal and handed me the new registration.
I settled back in behind the wheel of my beloved Impala and leaned my head on the seat. Wow! It surely didn’t take much to rattle me these days. I should have simply thanked Dale and driven away from the service station cool as a cucumber, but instead, I left hunched over the wheel, heart palpitating, fully prepared to be transported to Houlton in the Aroostook County Sheriff’s van.
The word “fuddy-duddy” came to mind as I drove to work. Thirty years ago, I would have thought it rather risky that I had neglected to register my vehicle. Today, however, I was a total wreck. I have come face to face with a crisis or two during my lifetime, and I must say I have handled them well. I found it odd that this registration issue had left me so frazzled.
I recall my Mom, in her later days, worrying endlessly over matters I considered to be trivial. I wondered then, as I wonder now, if this is part of the process of aging. Do we go from devil-may-care to paranoia? Where was the happy medium?
I turned up my car stereo just in time to catch the end of one of my all-time favorite songs, “Angie” by the Rolling Stones, and of course, I thought of Mick Jagger. He just celebrated his 70th birthday and I can’t help but wonder what it is that shakes him up these days; beside his music, of course. I smiled then, as I sailed on down the highway; safe in my newly registered car, and not a single blue light behind me.
Belinda Wilcox Ouellette lives Connor TWP with her husband Dale and their Goldendoodle Barney. They are currently working on building a home in Caribou. You may contact Belinda online at: dbwouellette@maine.rr.com.
