What I Was Thinking About in the Car Today

So I was in my car. I'd just done my exercises which Doc Gritter wants me to do to get my blood pressure down--along with the freaking meds he has me on--which was that I'd walked fast for about 2 1/2 miles. One half mile this morning in the local park, then another 1/2 half mile in the park--2000 steps--and then a trip to HEB supermarket where I park as far away from the entrance as is humanly possible--200 big steps--and then run in and out of aisles till I hit 1000 steps and then back to the car. Then to Walmart, where the parking lot is even bigger and I walk around the 5-acre building a couple of times, then shop, another 2000 steps, making 2 1/2 miles.
Okay, it's not the same as when I was younger and did 1000 crunches daily, plus 300 pushups in 75 push up bursts, plus rode my bike 15 miles daily, plus played handball 2-3 times a week for 2 hours, plus played softball with the Bonghitters from High Times twice a week during season, plus made a point of walking 15 flights of stairs a day. Okay, so I'm getting old. And I had that little heart attack. And I had that intestinal explosion that almost killed me and then the two further operations which fixed me, sort of--including a fake belly button because they had to cut the real one out, which Madeleina thinks is fantastic!--and the two flesh eating staph infections and all the rest. Wonderful freaking life, tell you the truth: You have no idea what health is till it's severely compromised. I mean, I try to run and my body just falls down. After the three major ops on my belly, my bottom half has no idea what my upper-half is doing. They just don't know each other anymore. Which is why I'm walking. I'm trying to get them to associate with one another again. Don't know if it's working and do know that I'm gonna buy a new pair of sneaks tomorrow because my feet hurt a lot--not to mention my freaking ankle where when it broke a few years ago I didn't have the cash to have the pin put in, which hurts not just a lot but a REAL lot.
I do know that walking more makes me do everything more vividly. More intentionally. I don't just stand up, I STAND UP and walk to the bathroom or the laundry room. I don't lollygag while shopping, I race through it.
And I cough a lot. I think I'm getting rid of a lot of stuff that could give me cancer, which I don't want, but still smoke two packs a day, so am probably pushing that envelope more than I should.
So today, after my walking, I was driving to Two Bucks, my liquor store. It's 23 miles from my house, and is the nearest one to my dry county. In the last couple of years, Johnson County--along interstate 35, the place where all the drugs from Mexico through Laredo are stored until they're broken up for shipments across the midwest--has allowed the sale of beer and wine at a few select places, and the sale of drinks at 3-4 bars owned by the local judges, but if you want a bottle of bourbon or vodka, you still have to drive to the next county, Tarrant, to get one.
So I drive there daily at the end of my errands to buy my 4 minis (1.6 ounces, each) of bourbon and then drive home. And on the way home I drink part of one of them. And I often wonder what a cop would do if he found me with an "open bottle" in the car--a big no-no here in Texas--and if that open bottle happened to be just the size of one drink. I mean, how the heck would he present that to a judge? "Your honor, this man had an open bottle, which I confiscated, while driving." And then when he showed the judge a bottle that contained 3/4 of 1/6 ounces, how would the judge rule? It's not the same as having a liter in your lap, know what I mean?
Anyway, I was driving to Two Bucks liquor store and realized I was going 70 in a 65 MPH zone. I slowed down. My 4-cylinder was probably breathing heavy at that speed anyway. But for a second I imagined a cop coming up on me and stopping me and coming to my window and asking "What's your hurry, old man?"
And these were a few of the answers I imagined responding with, none of which would probably have gone over well:
"Well, officer, the bottle of bourbon in the glove compartment is almost empty and I was trying to make it to the liquor store before it closed."
"Well, officer, I just stole this freaking car and I'm trying to get as far away from the scene of the crime and I can as fast as I can."
"My freaking wife is annoying me to death, so I'm trying to get to the gun show to pick up a throw-away piece."
"I'm gonna be Jonesing real soon if I can't get my hand on some meth in the next few minutes."
"I'm short just a little fertilizer for the back yard bomb I'm making and the damned garden center closes in 15 minutes!"
"One of my halogen bulbs burned out and my poor pot plants are gonna freeze if I don't get another hot bulb in that grow room soon."
"I left the six-month old alone while I went drinking and suddenly realized it's been a couple of hours. I'm sure the pit bull took care of her, but then I remembered I forgot to leave the pit bull's food out..."
"I'm trying to get to your house to have sex with your wife and realized you've only got a couple of hours left on your shift..."
"Just wanted to see what sort of speed the cars my tax dollars paid for your car could get..."
Have a great night, everybody.