November 1, 2011

• road to nowhere

  I have a love/hate relationship with driving.

  My first experience with driving was when my dad was teaching my older brother how to drive.  We went to the parking lot of our church in our enormous station wagon with the genuine fake wood panel doors.  I was in the back seat- I have no idea why.  Well, my dad must have been bored with teaching the real learning permit person or some such, or maybe I was complaining, or maybe I was just such an awesome kid,  In any case my dad told me to give it a try.  I sat down in the big front seat at the steering wheel, my 14 year old self a little cocky about Dad letting ME drive.  I hit the gas- I must have- because the next thing I know I’m SLAMMING the brakes.  I slammed the brakes so hard the big old bench back seat slammed into the big old front seat.  I broke the car!  Needless to say, it was a long time after my 16th birthday before I finally learned to drive.  I have no idea if that was all my choice or not.

  When I did finally get my license, my parents were way stingy with the keys.  I didn’t get to drive to school like I thought I should be able to.  I didn’t get to go cruising with my friends like I thought I should be able to.  I was allowed to drive to the library.  And sometimes I actually did, I was that kind of geek.  But I always took a little extra time with getting to/from the library.  I had a few places I liked to drive.  There was a string bean boy I had a crush on who lived in a neighborhood on my way.  Yea, I liked to drive by his house.  He lived on a no outlety kind of street, so really no purpose for being on that street… at all.  So, the one time that I drove by his house that he was actually OUTSIDE and SAW ME, I about keeled over.  I think he might have waved.  I hope that my stalking days were over, can’t quite remember.  I do know that he declined, politely but firmly, my invitation to the Sadie Hawkins dance. 

  Right near his house was this totally awesome hill.  When I hit it at just the right speed, the car would fly.  I mean it- tires left the pavement.  I loved that feeling- still do!  Well, one day I’m driving my dad’s little Chevy Citation with a boxed up washing machine in the back (yea, don’t ask), not thinking so much about what that box was going to do when the car went airborn.  I’m pretty sure there was damage.  I’m pretty sure I got in trouble.  There was probably some grounding. (I was always grounded.)

  I have car issues. I get lost.  Sometimes on purpose.  I’ve run out of gas more than a few times, but not recently.  I have a history of hitting parked cars, but again, not recently.  I have trouble parallel parking.  I got a ticket this summer for parking too far away from the curb, because the parking police don’t have quite enough to do in this town.

  I love long car trips, solo.  I made quite a few voyages when I was just me- I thought nothing of a 14 hour drive.  Especially if there’s a friend at the other end.  I’ve been to North Carolina a few times.  (don’t be scared, I don’t have 14 hours of free time anymore) Someday I hope to drive all the way to California.  That just sounds about perfect.  And I’d almost want to start at the beach on this coast.  Just because.

  My most recent driving experience was just a few minutes ago, picking up the spawn from band rehearsal.  I watched her terrify a boy to the point that he fell to the ground (ah, she takes after her mother.)  While I had this song cranked.  As soon as she got in the car, she tried to turn it down.  I won.

   

   

  • 9:26 pm
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