Ever notice when you’re driving the speed limit everybody else on the road passes you?

I always thought the word “limit,” as in “speed limit,” meant the maximum you should drive. Apparently some people look at that “65” as a minimum requirement. And sometimes they’re not even nice about it, sending a snarky little beep of their horn as they whiz past you as if to say: “Move over, slowpoke, you’re holding up traffic.”

I hesitate to be too self-righteous about this, though, since back in the day I also pushed the speed envelope. But that was a long time ago when I was younger and brasher and did stupid things like drive fast and go on wild carnival rides that whip you up in the air, twirl you around and set you back down on the ground spinning. For some reason my brain and my stomach used to be able to tolerate those things with few ill effects.

Not so these days.

I was visiting the Clearwater County Fair on Thursday just before the Silver State Amusement carnival opened up. I wandered around the carnival grounds, gazing up at those tall whatchamacallits that fling people 40 feet up in the air and whip them around until their tonsils pop out.

How can people even think that’s fun? I wondered to myself. But there was a time when I did think it was fun and could even go on those rides without losing my lunch. Somebody explained to me once that the reason I can’t do those things now is because as we get older our sense of balance begins to deteriorate because of something in our inner ears that goes out of whack. It sounded to me like a polite way of saying I was losing my marbles.

Which might be the truth. All I know is, I was getting dizzy just looking at those carnival rides at the Clearwater County Fair. So I got back in my car and headed home on U.S. Highway 12, driving the speed limit, which is 45 to 50 mph most of the way. And dozens of cars whizzed past me, some beeping their horns as if to say: “Move over, Grandma, young speedster coming through.”

Hedberg may be contacted at khedberg@lmtribune.com.