You Ever Do Something Really Stupid?

Or: how I became the proud owner of a cop car.

So yeah, I own a police car now.

Over the holidays, I got it in my head that I should surprise my wife with a new car. We can’t really afford a new new car. So I went looking for deals on used ones. Flash forward to me sitting up late one night, scrolling through govdeals.com. You know govdeals right? the website where municipalities auction off old equipment. And vehicles.

And before you know it, I’d placed a bid on a 2016 Ford Explorer Police Interceptor.

Somewhere along the way, I deluded myself into thinking that even if I won the auction, they wouldn’t actually make me buy it. Like there’d be some kind of out. Some escape hatch for people who’d made a terrible mistake at 11 PM on a Tuesday.

Who wants to buy this bad boy?

Dear reader, I am here to tell you that if you win a police car at auction, they very much expect you to buy that police car.

And so now I’m the not-so-proud owner of this vehicle. A car that my wife very much does not want as her everyday driver.

The seats need to be replaced. There are holes drilled into the dashboard. The electrical system looks like spaghetti.

My heart was in the right place. My wife had knee surgery, and driving our car with the manual transmission has been hard for her. So I thought yeah, maybe this could work. Maybe I’d stumbled onto one of those shortcuts people don’t consider. The kind of move that looks dumb until it turns out to be brilliant.

But every morning when I come downstairs and stare out at the car in front of my house, I most definitely do not feel brilliant.

Still, I’m spending a little money and a lot of time trying to fix this thing up. I’m not a mechanic, but I can be handy. ChatGPT has been very helpful. I’ve plugged holes, fixed trim, watched helpful YouTube video. I’m pretty sure a future weekend involves a trip to a junkyard to find seats. You know, as you do.

And yes, this was a fantastically dumb decision. But to be fair, I’m arguably one decision away from someone else’s bad decision making this break even. After all, there’s such a fine line between stupid and clever.

So this week, let’s talk about bold risks, why letting go of outcomes matters, and how there’s a lot to be said for just staying in it for the ride.

Letting Yourself Off the Hook

I felt like an idiot.

The kind of idiot who stays up late bidding on government auctions without a lot of disposable income to throw around at these kind of things. The kind of idiot who has to explain to his wife that he bought a car she didn’t ask for and can’t actually drive yet.

I beat myself up pretty good about it too. Is this what a mid-life crisis looks like? Just scrolling govdeals and Facebook Marketplace at midnight, buying weird stuff I don’t need?

But my wife was great about it.

I mean, she was surprised. So in a way, mission accomplished. But beyond that, she sorta shrugged and said, “Welp, this will be an adventure. Let’s see where it takes us.”

She saw that I felt bad. That I was embarrassed. And she let me off the hook.

More importantly, she let me let myself off the hook.

This all reminded me that you can examine how you got somewhere and you can learn from the mistake. But there isn’t much value in beating yourself up.

The decision is made. The money is spent. That damn police car is parked in front of your house. You can spend your energy wishing you’d been smarter, or you can spend it figuring out what to do next.

And once I stopped beating myself up about it, something in me shifted. I could actually look at the situation clearly. What do I need to fix? What can I learn? What’s actually possible here?

Acceptance isn’t the same as approval. It’s just recognizing that this is where you are now. And from here, you get to decide what happens next.

What Happens Next?

It’s been a week or so now and I have to admit, I like working on it.

I can’t sell the car until the title arrives. That takes a couple months. And as long as it’s sitting out there, I might as well try to make it good.

Each little thing I fix makes me feel accomplished. That shame and embarrassment slowly turns into adventure. Like I’m leveling up my skills and experiences.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all roses. I managed to shock myself on the car battery. Turns out it wasn’t totally dead. The car has sharp edges, so I’m a bit scratched up here and there.

But I’m learning all sorts of things. And I’m reminding myself that even though I’m impulsive and my decision making might be suspect at times, I’m capable. I can figure things out.

And it’s funny. The people who know me and find out I did this laugh and make fun. But I don’t think they’re really that surprised.

After all, I’m the guy who left a very stable job during the Great Recession to go build a trivia company with his friends. Of course, those “friends” have since stabbed me in the back and I’m unemployed, but let’s not focus on that right now, shall we?

Instead, let’s focus on taking risks and being okay with the consequences.

The question isn’t whether the risk was smart. The question is: now that you’re here, what are you going to do with it?

Is Being Risk Adverse the Riskier Move?

I know it might not seem like it, but I think of myself as a risk adverse person.

I get that on paper I look like a wild card. But generally I’m conservative. I reason things out. I make lists. I weigh options. But as the rough and tumble of life keeps having its way with me, I’m starting to wonder if avoiding risk is all that it’s cracked up to be.

Perhaps it’s a byproduct of getting older. But I’m beginning to think more and more that I should take more chances. Get a few more scars. Take a few more shocks to the system.

Maybe the blueprint I thought I was supposed to follow isn’t actually leading anywhere safe. Because the thing I keep finding is that a lot of risks seem way scarier before you’re actually dealing with the fallout. And once you’re in it, it’s usually not that bad.

It seemed super scary to leave my stable job in 2009. But I found out that I could build something. It didn’t last, but whatever, I’m surviving.

I was convinced buying this police car was going to ruin me financially and emotionally. And sure, it’s inconvenient and embarrassing. But I’m also learning how to fix cars and having weird adventures with my wife and collecting stories I’ll tell for years.

The catastrophe I imagined never showed up. Sure, there were consequences. But you can work with consequences.

And if that’s true, then what if being too careful is actually the riskier move? Maybe playing it safe guarantees you’ll never know just what you’re capable of.

Because there’s real risk in spending your whole life avoiding mistakes and waking up one day realizing you also avoided everything interesting.

In Conclusion

All of this makes me think about my brother John.

His favorite poem was Robert Frost’s The Road Not Taken. He’d quote the last lines to me all the time:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

He wouldn’t quote it to congratulate me when things went well. He quoted it when I was doing something that didn’t make sense to anyone else. I think he wanted me to remember that there’s a whole world out there full of different paths. And there’s a ton of value in just picking one and seeing where it goes.

I mean, I don’t know how this police car thing is going to turn out.

I might get it all fixed up and love it. I might sell it and make a few bucks. Maybe I’ll lose money and chalk it up to an expensive lesson about late-night internet auctions.

But I’ve already learned that the door panels of a 2013 Ford Explorer do not fit a 2016 Ford Explorer. And I’ve learned that shame can turn into adventure if you let it.

And looking out at this police car every morning, I think my brother would think it’s pretty funny. He’d probably laugh, shake his head, and ask me what I learned.

Not every risk pays off. But if you let go of the outcome and stay curious about the process, you might walk away with something better than you planned for.

Even if it’s just a story about the time you owned a cop car.

Ever forward,
— Derek (aka Chief Rabbit)

P.S. Quick thing: If you've ever been around folks where everyone's nodding about AI and you're just trying to figure out what a prompt is, I built something for you. It's a 90-minute workshop that covers the AI basics and such. Oh yeah, did I mention I teach this stuff at North Seattle College and run a consulting company?
Anyhoo, it's February 25th if you're interested. Info here.

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