I’m actually pretty sure I would have made it to my brother’s Memorial Mass on time if the police officer hadn’t stopped me for speeding. So it really wasn’t my fault. “Seven miles above the speed limit,” she said sternly. I waited in my car trying to look nonchalant as if being stopped by the police were an every day occurrence. “Your license is valid,” said the officer, sounding mildly astonished when she returned after what seemed like a very long time. She sent me off with a warning to creep down the street at about 17 mph, risking a citation for obstruction of traffic. Time is not my f...