Skip to main content

Driving Miss Moe

I am interested in running for political office for one reason: mandatory annual driver's testing for those 65 and older. I know, I know, for any of you looking off into the horizon of your golden years you are automatically thinking I'm a young twerp who has it coming to her. I've had this idea for quite some time and I'll tell you why.

  • Back at home, an elderly man drove into the front of the same grocery store-TWICE.
  • Every time someone cuts me off while merging on the highway I see a little gray-haired- head peeking over the steering wheel.
  • Those same gray heads drive 20 in a 40 and 30 in a 60.
  • Many a garage door, rock and bumper has been damaged due to an AARP member confusing D with R.

My mom, who is approaching gray-haired -lady status, was down-right angry with me for mentioning my concern with our senior drivers. Fearing her own freedom will one day be taken away from her, she staunchly supports the elderly's ability to drive themselves here, there, everywhere and straight into the coffin. It seems Mom must have early-onset alzheimer's because she has forgotten hiding the keys from my cataract suffering grandmother who would push her walker out into the road, grumbling about getting into the car to go to town as well as the conspiracy about the TV screen always being blue.

She had all but forgotten until last week when Caroline, Mom and I were waiting for our grinder order at the pizza joint near my parent's house. The three of us were sitting on a bench, soaking up the sun and people watching when we noticed one of my silver-haired buds sitting in a brand spanking new Matrix. Like the folks in the cars around him, he looked as though he was waiting for the person with him who went in to pick up the take out. He has his head back as though he, too, was soaking in the afternoon sun.

After about 20 minutes, the man, without a companion having joined him, turned over the ignition and slowly rolled his car backwards and stopped directly in the path of any car coming into the parking lot from the highway. After about 3 or 4 minutes he rolled the car forward, and very close to a parked car, ever so slowly, like he just remembered his companion and hoped the slow roll would allow him or her to run over and hop in. Then he sat at the exit for several more minutes before cautiously pulling out in front of an on-coming car. He then chugged his way westbound and into the setting sun, most likely going 10 in a 30.

So, Mom, will you be the first to sign my petition to run for Office? It'll be locally, up here in New York, so it won't impact you. And if you do end up failing that mandatory driver's test that is so poular is becomes law in all 50 states, I promise to drive you to the grocery store, Wal-Mart and the Y's acquasize classes as many times as you want, just like you drove me to the Mall, to ballet class and to friends' houses every single week until I turned 16 and became the other half of the feared driver population.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Charlotte's Story

What can you do in seventeen minutes? Watch an episode of your favorite sitcom without commercials? Run two miles at a good clip? Eat a meal, or in Andy's case, microwave a meal and then eat it? Have a baby? Because that's what I did. You heard me right. I birthed a baby in seventeen minutes because I am a machine. I am a machine ! I am a baby birthing woman of steel. I am not much of a bragger and you may recall that I was never good and never bad at anything. I have no particular achievements to tout, academically, physically, professionally or otherwise except baby birthing. I'm really good at this and I'm pretty darn proud of it and I'd like to brag about it to you now. This is Charlotte's birth story. For the first four or five months of my pregnancy with Charlotte, most people forgot that I was even pregnant. This does happen to you with multiple pregnancies. I never forgot that I was pregnant. Morning sickness heart burn and frequent bathroom t

Spoiler Alert!

It's no big shock that I opened my mouth and got myself in trouble earlier this week. This time it was my virtual mouth, and we all know that can be the worst. Saying something stupid, online, is like spreading a highly contagious virus. Speaking of which, with all of my recent coughing and sneezing, I've been really good at spreading a germy virus around. I teach students to be social media savvy, and gosh darn it, I did so as recent as yesterday. I provide them with some rules to protect them from looking like a virtual ass, but low and behold, I fall victim to assiness every once in a while. How am I supposed to know every single rule in life, and particularly online? I'm just a simple human being, with a big mouth, who wants to over share! So, here's what went down, if you didn't get pissy pants over my FB faux pas. I watched the mid-season finale of The Walking Dead on Sunday night. Andy was in the can and I just needed to talk about the episode. I needed t

LAX

Some people may think that Andy and I are "lax" parents. Our house isn't a free range farm by any means, although just throwing food on the ground, and letting the kids wander around and pick it up when they are hungry, sounds pretty enticing. It's true that we aren't the strictest parents and that, regularly, there is mutiny on the bounty and we are held hostage by little pirate people. The drill sergeant in our house is 3 feet tall and belts outs commands like, "Get me a drink!", "Turn on Netflix!", or "You will not wash my hair!" while wearing only a pullup, squinting her eyes, and pointing an accusatory finger in our direction. Our kids are often in charge. I'm not going to lie to you. The dog may also be in charge from time to time. That's just the way it goes. As more and more of our peers have a third child, we are, unfortunately, asked if we, too, plan to expand. Are these people insane in the membrane? Have they been