It is amazing how easy driving is, how easy it is to speed, how easy it is to get into a head exploding tizzy fit when other people don't speed... I got my driver's license when I was 22 years old. Too old to be afraid of speed, but I was. I know, some of you who know me will be amazed. Anyone who has been a passenger has, at one time or another, feared for their lives. When I first started driving, however, I was a Sunday driver everyday. My mom taught me to drive and, being that she is almost exactly like me, was the worst teacher ever. When I drive, my goal is to get to the destination the fastest with the fewest lights. It boggles my mind that other drivers don't think like this. For my mom, her goal was to have as smooth a ride as possible (I think) and that was just not possible with a girl who, when the speedometer got a little on the plus of 25, would kinda start to freak. Freaking meant frequent brake stepping and then speeding back up again. Which would bring more comment from the single peanut in the gallery which would just be sheer torture for me. It was not pretty. It was so bad, I had to get someone else to teach me how to parallel park. My mom is an awesome driver. She can backwards drive like nobody's business (she could take Mater). She's good at parallel parking as well, but can you imagine me, Nervous Nelly, trying to place a big ol' Dodge Caravan between two cars when I didn't have my driving eyes yet, and my mom, aka older, impatient me, was my teacher? No. I learned in a little Honda Civic from a friend at church. Armed with my grit my teeth and bear it approach to learning from my mom and the ease of parallel parking from Jen. A. and my superior day before the test memorization of the driving manual, I was handed a license a mere 6 hours after I'd gotten there. I got to drive home... on the interstate!!! I went over 50 miles per hour for the first time behind the wheel. I wasn't quite doing the speed limit and I was in the fast lane. I apologize. But I was driving on the interstate and that was a big deal. Now, while it's no big deal, I still get a kick out of remembering.
Now, I feel like I drive with my eyes closed. Which should be dangerous, but turns out not to be. Most of my drive I could probably do in my sleep. I take different ways just to spice up the drive. I carefully plan my course like some sort of army sergeant. I have plan B driving paths. I am so anal. But it is a pleasing endeavor. That is where I find joy, getting to my destination with minimal stops and praise be to God if I don't find myself behind someone who thinks it's safer to go 30 miles under the speed limit.
I have to admit, though, since I've gotten married, my husband had been pumping gas for me and I find that I will do anything in my power to not be the one that has to pump the gas. It's a quirk. I've learned to love it.
The other day, I realized, as I sped between Ma and Paw Sunday Driver and Memaw and all the others, that I was much more at ease with speed. I found going 25 so mind numbingly slow that I try my best to always be 10 miles over the limit. I don't fear the ticket. Sometimes, it's worth it for the speed. So I drive every day, the same way with the same destinations in mind and I'm glad that, though driving came late, it did finally show it's face and that makes me happy.
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2 comments:
You know I was never afraid of speed. Six months after I got my license I was stopped for going 108 in a 45 zone.
Wow... I, too, come by speed honestly. My uncle built his own car when he was 14 and got a ticket doing 100 something (104, I think) in a 35. He framed the ticket. (I honestly don't know why he didn't get charged for driving at 14, but those were different times.)
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