No ticket to paradise

On the last Sunday in September, I rode my daughter Pam’s motorcycle â€" my old one was still at the shop, disabled, and I hadn’t gotten my new one yet â€" over to the office for a 7 p.m Young Voices meeting. One hour later, I left for home, and about a mile later, just after I’d turned off Highway 20 onto North Albany Road, I found myself pulled over by an Albany police officer. “Do you know why I stopped you?” he asked. “No.” “Do you know the speed limit on the bridge?” “Thirty.” “That’s ri