t's not my fault. Well maybe it is somewhat my fault because inside these make-me-taller-than-I-am shoes there sits a lead foot. I like to drive fast.  I know you're supposed to stop and smell the roses and all that but I don't believe that half the fun is getting there. Usually the fun is there and getting to it is just a major inconvenience. What does make the process of getting there tolerable is being in that car all by myself with music I love and nobody around to tell me to turn it down. Problem is, music makes me drive fast. I have to drive a lot too because I live in a city that covers the second largest amount of land in the country and just keeps spreading. Jacksonville has sprawled into the beaches and what used to be separate little cities within a hundred mile radius.  You have to drive far to get anywhere. 

Being a live music junkie means spending a lot of time on the road too. Several of the best SJ concert markets in the country are within about 250 miles of my hometown. Traveling to them involves driving on stretches of highway that are such notorious speed traps that AAA used to warn drivers about them. You can get to Tampa/St. Pete by taking I-95 to I-4, one notorious speed trap where Disney tourists get nabbed coming and going. Or you can take the back road and drive through Starke and Waldo, two little towns that seem to be funded entirely by traffic fines paid by unsuspecting tourists and fans going to Florida Gators football games.  I-95 has its days too, especially a county south of mine where law enforcement officers will assume you are up to no good if you are driving through between 1 and 5 am. Which, if you are returning from a concert downstate, is exactly when you'll be passing through.  
 
I was a pretty good girl for the fist 15 years that I had my license. My first car was small and unreliable so when it was time to road trip someone else always drove. Then I moved to a very small town and worked on the morning show at a local radio station. Everyone knew me so when I went flying through downtown the cop would just  kind of shake his finger at me like an irate dad. Two days after I moved back to my hometown I was greeted with the flashing blue lights . The sign advising you that the offramp speed dropped from 65 to 30 was at the top of a hill and the cop was at the bottom. From then on it became a regular thing. Something that always happened with a song going on: 
 
Song: “Wish You Were Near” - Acoustic Alchemy  Ticket: 32 in a 25 mph zone.   
I was visiting someone who lived in one of those lavish gated communities with pristine curvy roads. I cranked this one up, hit the curve gaining speed and drove right past a cop going the other way with his radar on. 
 
Song: “Cafe Pacifica” - Neil Larsen  Ticket: 75 in a 65 mph zone.   
When I first moved to Jax I still drove up to a small station in Georgia to host my Sunday brunch show. I was lucky I didn't get nabbed more often. This is a top-down crank it up track with a lot of forward momentum and a scorching guitar solo from Buzz Feiten. Forward momentum. Yeah...I had that. 
 
Album: The Road To You (Live In Europe) - Pat Metheny Group  Ticket 70something in a 65 mph zone. 
I wasn't driving, thank God, but I put the CD in. Driving I-10 to Tallahasse for an FSU football game on a beautiful October morning, "First Circle" turned up loud. It doesn't get any better than that till the cop in the median gets you. We won that night though and went on to win the national championship. Those were the days. 
 
Song: “1000 Stories” - Turning Point  Ticket: 80 in a 70mph zone.  
That myth about them letting you go 80 on the interstate is not true late at night. Especially if a cop hanging out at the rest stop sees you throwing an energy drink can in the trash and thinks it's a beer can. One mile out of the rest stop the blue lights flash behind me.  
 
Song: Express - Metro  Ticket: 62 in a 55.  
You can tell by the song title that this ticket was recent. Really recent. Open stretch of road. One cop with a radar gun, another waving us off the highway, and a third one writing us up. There were eight parked in a row when I became # 9. Sigh.  
 
Concert and Festival season in Florida kicks in in early April. I already have about eight road trips planned for early spring. Someone please sabotage my sound system before I end up broke and on foot for the rest of my life.