It was 8:30 a.m. on Saturday.
Traffic school was about to begin.
Three-and-a-half months earlier, I had been stopped for going 39 mph in a 25-mph zone.
Rather than pay a fine, I chose to appear in court.
The judge, as I had hoped, offered me the option of traffic school.
I gratefully accepted, knowing that completion of the class would sidestep an insurance increase.
Now, however, I was having second thoughts.
Sports guys aren’t supposed to be awake at 8:30 a.m., let alone be out of the house.
But there I was, in the basement of the Clallam County Courthouse, ready to begin a six-hour course on improving my driving.
