Please accept my sincerest apologies that I was unwittingly chosen by fate this morning to play the role of retardant to the attendance of your bats out of hell reunion. I am all too painfully aware of your agitation, as I can plainly see your face in my rear view mirror as though you were occupying my backseat — a status I fear could very well be managable should I lightly tap upon my brakes.

Your patience in this unfortunate rendevouz is greatly appreciated, for while you give every sign of wanting to shatter the posted speed limit, as though it was a puppy soaked in liquid nitrogen, and tear down the road with scant regard to the weather conditions or whatever life may scamper out to the space you wish to so quickly occupy with your tires, you are conscientiously waiting for the lines on the road to change to grant legal passing. Such attention to priorities is astounding, as is your contribution to the economy by donating so much superfluous fuel consumption to the oil companies.

I see I must suspend my apologies as you have seen opportunity to depress your leaden foot and swing around this old, 60 mph tortoise, but please pay me no mind. I am sure I shall have further time to express my remorse to you, should you remain out of the ditches or clutches of the law, when I catch up with you at the next long red light or construction area. It always seems to happen and I am ever patient.


Tim Latshaw