Noon Monday I was back in the driver’s seat. It was a rough week of abstinence, one I don’t care to repeat. I cherish my independence and will never take my driver’s license for granted again! I must say I was surprised at how many people suggested I take chances and drive when I moaned about having to be chauffeured. Personally, I never knowingly invite trouble to my door, if it arrives it’s an unwanted guest and I deal with it, but I normally think before I act. Ever since the influence of Sesame Street, I deliberate about what happens next, paving a path of less mishaps, but if something goes wrong I learn from it and never make the same mistake twice. I wonder how many people continue to drive while under suspension, playing Russian roulette with the law. Shame, shame.
Generally I’m a rule follower, have always been, my dad was a stickler for it. We were made to toe the line, so we wouldn’t embarrassed him at his civil servant job. He worked at the post office where everyone’s business was bantered back and forth over the wicket by the gossip mongers of the town. We always knew the skinny on other people’s problems, who did what to whom, who was doing who, it was all broadcast at the dinner table each night. I suppose he was updating our mom but little piggy’s have big ears! Dad understood that if his own family screwed up we’d be the headlines and he hated people talking about him. He wanted his family to be squeaky clean and we were, if you threw dirt at us, between the righteous upbringing and the heavy starching on laundry day, it wouldn't stick.
Luckily I never realized that he didn’t practice what he preached during the formative years while my character was building or I might not be so strait-laced today. As an adult looking back, I realize my dad was like the rest of us, perfectly imperfect. He made his own set of rules that trapped him in a cul-de-sac but he didn't seem to know he wasn't getting anywhere. Like his blasé attitude about drinking and driving. By his admission, he could handle a car better, while under the influence, than most of the other so called sober arseholes on the road. We went on some pretty harrowing family vacations; how we made our destination is a question for the universe. It was a different time back then and there was a lot of leaving dances and parties where the drunk moron behind the wheel could barely see over it to find the way home.
My dad also had a sweet tooth and loved helping himself to candy. No, not at home, in the grocery store. He was known to open bags of caramels and peanuts on the shelves, stuff his face while our mother was checking off items on the shopping list. The longer she took the more he snacked. He’d be sucking the remnants of nuts out of his teeth all the way home while complaining about the high cost of things and how the damn shoplifters caused inflated pricing which invariably punished us all. He never considered that walking out with merchandise traveling through his digestive system was no less stealing than stuffing items in a pocket or a handbag. Yup my dad was a funny guy, only seeing the world through his own eyes and they weren't quite 20/20.
So, I’m back on the road and appreciate this second chance. No more tickets for this gal and I’ve been a back seat driver with an eye on hubby’s speedometer as well. He’s not a speed demon but I’m more conscious now of that hand creeping a bit over the line. Through my diligence, I’m making the world just a “Little” bit safer for us all.
Generally I’m a rule follower, have always been, my dad was a stickler for it. We were made to toe the line, so we wouldn’t embarrassed him at his civil servant job. He worked at the post office where everyone’s business was bantered back and forth over the wicket by the gossip mongers of the town. We always knew the skinny on other people’s problems, who did what to whom, who was doing who, it was all broadcast at the dinner table each night. I suppose he was updating our mom but little piggy’s have big ears! Dad understood that if his own family screwed up we’d be the headlines and he hated people talking about him. He wanted his family to be squeaky clean and we were, if you threw dirt at us, between the righteous upbringing and the heavy starching on laundry day, it wouldn't stick.
Luckily I never realized that he didn’t practice what he preached during the formative years while my character was building or I might not be so strait-laced today. As an adult looking back, I realize my dad was like the rest of us, perfectly imperfect. He made his own set of rules that trapped him in a cul-de-sac but he didn't seem to know he wasn't getting anywhere. Like his blasé attitude about drinking and driving. By his admission, he could handle a car better, while under the influence, than most of the other so called sober arseholes on the road. We went on some pretty harrowing family vacations; how we made our destination is a question for the universe. It was a different time back then and there was a lot of leaving dances and parties where the drunk moron behind the wheel could barely see over it to find the way home.
My dad also had a sweet tooth and loved helping himself to candy. No, not at home, in the grocery store. He was known to open bags of caramels and peanuts on the shelves, stuff his face while our mother was checking off items on the shopping list. The longer she took the more he snacked. He’d be sucking the remnants of nuts out of his teeth all the way home while complaining about the high cost of things and how the damn shoplifters caused inflated pricing which invariably punished us all. He never considered that walking out with merchandise traveling through his digestive system was no less stealing than stuffing items in a pocket or a handbag. Yup my dad was a funny guy, only seeing the world through his own eyes and they weren't quite 20/20.
So, I’m back on the road and appreciate this second chance. No more tickets for this gal and I’ve been a back seat driver with an eye on hubby’s speedometer as well. He’s not a speed demon but I’m more conscious now of that hand creeping a bit over the line. Through my diligence, I’m making the world just a “Little” bit safer for us all.
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