Rays Law

Men are much more sentimental than women give us credit for being. We're just sentimental about stupid things. I may not remember the first conversation I had with my wife, but I'll never forget the first time that I saw my red mustang. It was half destroyed from a front end collision, but was absolutely beautiful.

A few bucks and several weeks later, it looked as good as new and I placed my personalized plate- ("Ray's Law") on the red mustang. It was the beginning of an adventure that lasted from law school to my second job as a prosecutor in the Imperial Valley.

The car was really too tiny for it's 6'2" gorilla of a driver, but somehow on weekend nights, it fit me and a zoo crew of friends as well. We'd drive to the worst (and most enjoyable) areas of Tijuana and Ray's Law was always quick to find us a parking spot or, occasionally, a quick exit.

The radio was always blasting good music- from Rock en Espanol to Marvin Gaye to Vicente Fernandez, the stereo knew no international boundaries. I once blasted country music while driving down Compton looking for some good barbeque.

With me as the driver, the car had it's share of accidents and breakdowns. Once it broke down in East LA at midnight as I was on my way to visit a friend. A couple of times, the car left us stranded in Tijuana- looking for a late night mechanical fix to bring it back across the border. There also was the time I rear ended a semi-truck..

Despite its sporty appearance, the mustang was never really the fastest vehicle. I would race with two other friends and would invariably end up in third place.

Yet, I still miss the car. My Tundra is more comfortable, practical, etc- but Ray's Law just doesn't seem to fit it as a personalized plate. It fit better as a motto for a car that followed it's own rules- never the fastest, but always reaching its destination in style.