Last week, the subject of police car lights came up somehow. I often refer to them as “bubbles.”
“Why do you call them bubbles?” asked Alpha Geek.
“I’ve heard police call them that.”
“I’ve never heard a policeman call them bubbles. They call them ‘light bars.'”
“Okay,” I shrugged. I didn’t care that much about it.
“No, really, when did you hear them called ‘bubbles’?”
“I didn’t note the date and time or anything.” I turned to my son, the Director, listening with interest nearby. “When you go back to school, you can ask Officer G. what he calls the lights on his cruiser.”
“I will give you fifty dollars if he calls them bubbles,” added Alpha Geek.
I had forgotten about it by the next day. The Director hadn’t. Today when I picked him up from school, he exclaimed, “I talked to Officer G. today, and asked him what he calls the lights on his car.”
I laughed. Of course the Director would remember. “And what did he call them?”
“He calls them ‘blue lights.'”
“Well there you go. We were both wrong.”
“But I told him about what you were saying, and he said that actually they did used to call them ‘bubble lights.'”