75 mph

I was going 75mph. Well, maybe I should rephrase that, my CAR was going 75mph and I just so happened to be the one inside it. Even dirty PT Cruisers with car seats and melted crayon spots have dreams. Mine was dreaming it was a 2010 Chevy Camaro-----slate blue with thick racing stripes caressing the hood-----super charged with dual exhaust and splashed with chrome.

It was gliding on a long strip of road smooth in the right spots and slightly hilly in others, primed perfectly to catch air like the General Lee. It's tires thick and meaty, rims expensive and it was lusted after, just like me (ha). It dreamt of a sound system temporarily devoid of Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus. It craved a trip where owner and machine could blast the radio without fear of hurting little eardrums or serve up CD's that the evil was not "parentally advised" out of.

It was my duty to oblige, so I did.

I was driving 75mph when my PT Cruisers dream of freedom took over me.

I went back freely. Open to the memories of a time far gone.

I was 21 again, single and hot with no responsibilities. My dark hair was flying on the wind like gymnastic ribbons. My skirt was a little too short, my shirt, two buttons below proper, but I rocked it and did not care what you thought. My skin was light, my eyes dark and my lips, crimson, rivaling the hue of the deepest red roses. There was no schedule or written plan but I had 50 places I could choose from and my phone was ringing off the hook with prospective dates. With a purple Meucci as my co-pilot, I would stake out two pool halls, one for practice and one to really "play the game" in.

My stereo was old school rocking AC/DC- "The Girl's Got Rhythm" and "Squealer" rounding off with "Night Prowler" with some Metallica and Reaper thrown in for good measure. Beer was in the back, Vodka/juice in the front and I was the picture of youth and ignorance. Tunnel vision, tempting fate.

Anything structured would have looked bizarre in that lost moment.

Then I flew passed a broken down minivan. I saw the frazzled mom standing by the tow truck driver. I knew what I would be feeling if that were me, as it had been on many an occasion. How much would this cost? How will I pick up the kids? Why today? Why now? Why me? Tears of questions without concrete answers.

My head went back to family and reality emerged. As I took my foot off the accelerator the years layered on,,, 20's,,,,, 30's edging on the 40's and I looked in the rear view mirror of my newly transformed PT Cruiser and noticed: I feel even cooler than that 21 year old memory of a girl.

I've seen more. I live for more than "me" and the next "hot spot". I've nurtured and am raising humans that have good hearts and sweet souls. I have made a difference somewhere in this world. Someone has looked at me and been thankful I was there at that very moment. I have cried my weight in tears and laughed out loud too many times to count. I have given my heart freely to someone, and when he gave it back broken, I nursed it back to health -and- I AM NOT AFRAID TO RE-GIFT IT!!!!!

I have more to see-----more souls to touch---- transitions to experience---- and I couldn't face that or even imagine doing that back then----- I didn't know how----- but now I do---- and I am thankful.

So now my car is a PT Cruiser again, cherishing each crayon melted art piece.

And as for me:

I am still that mildly wild rocker chic with an always primed Meucci,,,,,, just with a better agenda and some pretty hot smile lines to show off!!

But,,,,,,, I am STILL not happy about Miley Cyrus being in my CD player.....