So I’m a decent driver. I grew up in a home where cars-hot rods and trucks and the like-were respected, if not revered. I was trained in a driver education program at a high school that knew winter weather and anticipated the need for certain driving skills that transcend those of residents of sunny statessuch as driving on ice, sleet, and snow, for instance. And while I am quick and hyper-alert, while I love a good fast car and drive, I have only had three traffic violations in all of my driving life (which equals about thirty-one years): got a speeding ticket at 16, trying to beat curfew; got a no seat belt ticket in the eighties, when I was pulled over because a headlamp was out; and got a red light violation one night when I knew better but wanted to get home after working all day and all night at a college an hour and a half away from where I lived.

But what happened last week was incredible! I had just shifted to this town. I got pulled up for speeding (I was doing 44)! This town indicated the speed limit as 25 to 35. The same area shows two signs–one stating 25 and the other 35, leaving the driver very confused?