Back in February, I bought a 1990 Acura Integra. Dirt cheap.

Not so dirt cheap. I immediately dropped a new exhaust system (behind the catalytic converter) and an A/C overhaul into the thing, and it will be needing a new clutch and radiator in the next year.

Ah, but who cares? This car can drive.

In my life, I have driven a 1982 Chevy Citation, a 1976 Pontiac LeMans, a 1986 Chevy Cavalier, a 1988 Ford Thunderbird and now the Integra. The Integra is the first one of the bunch that is nimble and holds the road well at high speed.

The LeMans (my previous favorite car) was a tank. In fact, once a Civic going 20-25 mph broadsided the tank and all I heard (I didn't feel anything) was a slight "clunk." Great car. In fact, if it had been front wheel drive, I would never have bought the Cavalier. Unfortunately, the LeMans did not handle well on ice. Lots of fishtailing and hitting parked cars and street signs don't do the insurance payments good.

But this Integra, man, it feels good on the road. So good, than I find it difficult to drive anywhere near the speed limit.

This is a new problem for me. All of my previous cars (with the exception of the LeMans) tended to break out into nerve-wracking shimmies when they hit 70 or higher. The Thunderbird, in particular, was quite squirrelly. But not the Integra. I've never felt uneasy for a moment.

And so now I join the fast lane on I-40 as I head to work in Raleigh. The speed limit is 65, but even the codgers drive 70 in the far right lane. To get in the fast lane, you have to ante up at 80. The median speed probably falls somewhere around 85, but 90 is not unheard of and, indeed, is often expected.

Generally, I only drive 90 when I trying to get past the Cary water treatment plant. But the thing is, this car feels good at 90. In fact, the one time I tipped 100 (before getting passed by an old lady in a big-ass Caddy), there were no worries.

I don't like my commute to work. Every day, I drive exactly 60 miles. The trip in to Raleigh is 30.1 miles, and the drive back is 29.9 (the difference is caused by a couple one-way streets). About 25 miles each way is on a freeway of one sort or another (my I-40 stretch is 19 miles), and if I hit the lights right and traffic is good I can make the jaunt in 30 minutes. Of course, if I'm heading home and let the pedal drop the time is more like 25 minutes. I once thought I'd timed myself in at 23, but I can't be sure. See, on those nights where I really put the hammer down I never check to see what time it is when I get in my car, so I'm never really sure how quickly I got home.

You might ask: How's the ol' driving record doing? Just dandy. That's the weird thing. I drive 80 to 85, but everyone else is hellbent on going 90. One evening, I passed a cop (I was just cruising along at 75). In my rearview mirror I saw not the cop, but a guy in a Saab who was switching lanes the way Donald Trump switches wives. Saab-boy blew past me, and that's when I saw the cop wheel into action, hitting the lights and blazing a trail right past my right fender. The lesson here: You can drive fast for free, but if you drive like a jerk you will get nailed.

Because I drive the same 30 miles every day, I know where the cops hang out. I also know that if I'm going less than 80, there's not much of a chance that the men in boots will give me a second glance. Particularly since there's almost always someone else flying past me no matter how quickly the Integra is hurtling.

Is driving this fast safe? I never drove this fast in the Thunderbird, and the Cavalier's engine always sounded a bit funny when I pushed it much past 70. In those cars, no way is 80 safe. In the Integra? Sure.

I know, I'm being irresponsible and will probably end up in a pile of smoking wreckage on top of another pile of smoking wreckage in the I-40 median landfill. When that happens, you can tell me "I told you so" all you want.

Dead people, you see, have all the time in the world and suffer every insult gladly.

Jon Worley doesn't want to die any time soon, but he figures that less time on I-40 means a better shot a surviving the commute.