Monthly Archives: September 2015

Driving to Distraction

Driving permit

To the family in the white SUV, on behalf of myself and my teenage driver with a learner’s permit, please accept our sincere apologies. Putting all that classroom knowledge into action is a process, and he’s learning. Certainly honking your horn is one way to punctuate the lesson on turn signals, and I think he understands now that just because you turn on a signal does not necessarily mean that you can just shove your way into the next lane. We appreciate your patience.

To the guy in the blue pickup truck, we would like to extend apologies to you as well. Sometimes making a turn into the proper lane is a challenge. Actually, I’ve coined a phrase for that sweeping multi-lane turn. I call that a CWT or a Crazy Wide Turn. They’re getting better, but I can understand your alarm and frustration to come face-to-face (literally) with one. It did, coincidentally, put us in a position to read your lips fairly clearly. I can only wonder if you kiss your mother with that mouth. Just asking. Regardless, we appreciate your input.

To just about everyone who finds themselves in a parking lot with us right now, let us apologize to you, too. So many lines, so many angles, so many cars. It’s a lot to navigate, and sometimes, parking requires magical abilities that, unfortunately, don’t magically just appear when you get behind the wheel. Quite honestly, I’m amazed at exactly how many angles one driver can put one car in a parking space. Some things even geometry can’t explain.

If at any time you’ve seen a woman in the passenger seat of a black Toyota Rav with her fingernails dug deeply into the dashboard and she seems to be screaming “BRACE FOR IMPACT! BRACE FOR IMPACT!” that might have been me. Not to worry, though. I think he’s improving. To date, we haven’t collided, crumpled, crashed or destroyed life or property. My dentist assures me that the damage from gritting my teeth so hard and so long can be repaired. I’m also optimistic that eventually the night terrors will stop, and, before long, I’ll once again be able to sit in the passenger seat without a copy of my last will, medical directives and a final letter to the remainder of my family.

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