Although living on the Eastern Shore has its advantages, it also has some entertainment setbacks, too. Of course, one can fish, hunt, crab, swim, walk beaches, and engage in shell hunting. You could visit some of the sights that include lighthouses, freely wandering ponies, and vineyards. There are miles of bike trails and roads, bird watching sites, and shopping venues to enjoy. But, after years of engaging in these activities, boredom can easily set in.
So it was with interest that I watched a television commercial that offered Scooty-Scoot scooters for the handicapped. It seems as though the federal government would like everyone to be mobile and will subsidize the purchase of a Scooty-Scoot for practically anyone.
The price was never mentioned on this TV ad, so I can only imagine it is far more expensive than my riding mower, more traditionally known on The Shore as a ‘grass cutter.’ One of mine - I have two – has an automatic transmission, hydrostatic throttle control, a trailer hitch, headlights, digital display, adjustable seat, and a cup holder. But, I digress.
Those Scooty-Scoots are shown with a woman driving one in tight circles inside her kitchen, waving while wearing a parade-like smile and appearing to be under the influence of some sort of narcotic.
This inviting display of senior debauchery actually held some appeal for me even though I’m not handicapped or require assistance to be ambulatory. Bringing road racing on The Eastern Shore would erase all the ethical and principled feelings that would need to be discarded to actually acquire one – or two – of these Scooty-Scoots.
I commented on the charm of having one of these – if only to give Smokey the Cat a brief ride around our humble abode. My sainted wife, upon returning to Earth from her rant said, “Over my dead body!”
It took a few minutes for me to ponder her offer and all ramifications associated therewith when I countered with, “Why not?”
Her blood pressure came down low enough for us to cancel the 911 call when she pushed her eyeballs back into their respective sockets and said, “And what are you going to do with it?”
Anticipating such a mundane query, I told her I would use mine to race hers up and down the country roads of Accomack County.
“You want two?!?!?!?!” she retorted.
It’s tough to race with just one, was my explanation. And short of using charts and a PowerPoint presentation, I endured to get my well-balanced point across.
Alas, she did not buy my argument, rather acting like Donald Trump on an episode of Celebrity Apprentice.
Road course Grand Prix’s are common throughout the world but, I’m afraid one will not be coming to The Shore anytime soon. Just don’t blame me.
