Here's how we start Super Bowl XLI week. We get on a Greyhound bus, pull onto the Miami Beach street and are joined by motorcycles ridden by police officers. Red and blue lights flash, radios are talked into and we're on our way to Dolphin Stadium for Media Day.
I've never liked police escorts because only other people get them. But I changed my mind. Police escorts are very fair. With cops at your side. you'd be amazed how much more quickly and smoothly you handle Tuesday morning rush hour traffic.
Envision the road as a stream. Envision the motorcycles as a dam. They stop road traffic and freeway traffic and every other kind of traffic as we float lazily to the stadium. The drivers who are stopped look up at the bus, which has tinted windows, to see who the important people are inside. Fooled you. It's only us.
The sign that says, TOLL VIOLATIONS $100 PENALTY does not pertain to us. Toll roads do not pertain to us. We just scoot through, the wind perpetually at our back, the road consistently down hill. Man, would I love this escort heading home from downtown on I-485 or Rea Rd. or Providence Rd. during rush hour back in Charlotte.
As we approach a hospital Tuesday morning, drivers attempting to merge are stopped. I look to see if anybody in the cars is in pain. If a passenger or driver in a stopped car is in need of an emergency appendectomy, I think he should be allowed to pass.
This might sound terribly unselfish, but I believe surgery is more important than media day. Alas, what can one man do other than sit back and enjoy the ride?