Bits And Pieces

What's Happened To The Spirit Of Adventure

     Men just don't have confidence in my driving.  Now it's been statistically been proven women have less accidents (don't we live longer too?) than men.  But the males in my family seem to gain no confidence from this vital fact.

     As a "taker to school" for nigh on to these many years, my automotive ability was never questioned.  It was a case of walk or let mother drive, and what youngster ever walks these days?

     I've been a cub scout carry all, a take to the dentist, a doctor, music lesson. show, train, zoo, field trip, and a chauffeur with nary an audible complaint from my bubble gum chewing passengers.

     On vacation trips the young clan were more than eager to have Pop transfer to the back seat for a fast game of Old Maid or Ninety-Nine while I took over the driving chore.  Why is this?  Usually he lost as he was so busy checking the speedometer, giving me suggestions about passing the car ahead, puffing his pipe faster and developing a one word explosive vocabulary like "wow!" or "boy".  He never really relaxes and leaves the driving to me.

     "Put the blinker on when you go out like that.  The speed limit here is sixty.  If you're tired I'll drive."  Over the twenty odd years we've been covering road mileage together, his words of advice and wisdom fall on deaf ears.  Especially with a car radio, I can always concentrate on the music. 

     Males just figure that the female couldn't be a good driver.  Just look at all those women driver jokes they made up.  Suddenly, a new male voice started freely distributing driving instructions in my direction.

     Son no. 1 now has a driver's license, has logged up several hours of solo flights with the family car which naturally makes him a specialist on any road problems.  He likes to read the road signs for me or keep tabs on how closely the car behind is snuggling up to our tailgate.  All of which doesn't make for serenity at the wheel.  The only time I'm interested in the guy behind is when I pull out from one lane to another, otherwise he's strictly on his own and he'd just better watch out for me--I have enough problems checking on the cars ahead.

     This new voice keeps me informed about stop lights, turns, route numbers, speed limits, stop signs, or curves which are blocks away before the occurrence.

     On our vacation trip this year, his "Watch it, there's a stop ahead!" or "The route turns left ahead up here," keep things perking in the car.  It really got so Pop had a hard time getting any instructions to me at all, and I found myself tense and nervously alert with a head that practically swiveled trying to keep up with all the dangers surrounding the car.  Two voices delivering warnings and criticism can shake the confidence of even a Barney Oldfield.

     So after a few bitter turnpike drivings, under a barrage of critical but friendly aid, I hit on a scheme.

     When Pop drove I switched to the back seat with Son no. 1 and began my campaign of warnings and backseat driving.

     "Don't you think you're driving too fast?" I'd say sweetly.  "Aren't you following that car a little too close?"  I found I could draw in a quick breath, say "wow!" and push on imaginary brakes just like my two male passengers had been doing.

    Son no. 1 decided I was sure as heck getting mighty nervous and acting funny.  Pop was driving okay, what was I fussing about?

     When he was finally allowed to drive I kept up my critical chatter with Pop automatically adding a few admonitions of his own.  It took a few miles but suddenly Son no. 1 of his own accord drove into a rest area.

     "Driving is not any fun," he said.  "Not if this car is going to have three drivers.  I'll quit."

     "Me too," I said and that did it.

     Oh yes, I still have masculine driving help.  Now they call it "offering suggestions."  I only lost the route four times after that.  Believe me it is kind of hard to drive and watch all the road signs.

Written November 10, 1963