Driving Me Crazy
I love to go for a drive.
But I don’t love being the driver. I like being the passenger. (In the front seat of course. I’m not that crazy about throwing up.)
I like when my husband drives and I can:
– File my nails
– Check my email
– Write a blog in my head
– Watch myself in the side-view mirror
– Look in the windows of houses (my favorite night-time activity)
I also don’t like to drive because I don’t want the inherent criticism. Not that I am a bad driver. I’m a good driver. (I’m a bad parker, but that’s different.) It’s just that if you sit in the passenger seat, I think you are compelled by God or History to state your opinion of the driver’s skills. And I would rather be the criticizer than the criticizee.
Case in point: One day last year I was driving to my mother’s with Guess Who in the passenger seat. My mother has lived in that house for forty-six years. I’m a little familiar with it. We come to the intersection about three blocks from the house when my husband (oops…the ‘nameless person’ in the passenger seat) says, “Take a right.”
I rest my case.
Anyhow, I love it when my husband drives.
And he’s a good driver AND a good parker.
Except for a few little things.
It takes him five minutes to leave the garage. Everything needs to be adjusted, even if he’s the one who drove last. Then we back out. Then we sit while the garage door comes down. (Because maybe it could go back up by itself. And that DOES happen. Once in every million times.) And although he may be able to multi-task while the door is coming down, it’s not likely that he will. So THEN, he takes off his glasses, and opens his glass case and puts them away, and THEN he takes out his sunglasses case and takes out his sunglasses. THEN he cleans his sunglasses. THEN he puts them on. THEN he puts both cases away. And THEN (practically instantaneously) OFF we go!
Except…the inability to multi-task also makes going somewhere new a little complicated. Because if we have to put an address in the GPS, then that comes next. THEN…yippee…OFF we go! And along the way, if traffic is heavy and we (that’s the “Royal We” here) are not sure of the exit, we have to turn the radio off, because ‘We’ cannot watch for an exit and listen to a tune at the same time.
And speaking of directions, he certainly doesn’t take any from me.
Like the other night. We are coming home from my mother’s, this time with him behind the wheel, and due to an accident, we have to take a detour. So after we take this detour, he pulls over. Because he needs to turn on the GPS so he can find his way. Let me reiterate that we are in my hometown. Where I grew up.
He also likes to drive a bit centered. Centered as in the middle of the road. He tells me (because of course it is my duty to tactfully point this out, by saying something like, “Jesus Christ, you are in the middle of the road!”) that this is just an optical illusion from the passenger side. And yet, yesterday on a nice September drive, we were on a country road that had reflectors in the center line for nighttime driving. And we went thumpety, thumpety, thumpety, as we hit the reflectors. Reflectors that are in the center line. It seemed like a pretty noisy optical illusion.
And we may just slightly disagree on music. We have Sirius, and he likes “The 50’s on 5” and I like “The 60’s on 6”. (To you younger folks, if you are thinking about marrying someone a bit older than you, you may want to give some consideration to music preferences before you commit. Just saying.) But in our twenty years of marriage, we have worked this out. We take turns. Which is fair. As long as I have more turns than him. (And he was around in the sixties. So he should LIKE it.)
But I have noticed a little something weird about the way he drives when the radio is on. When the music is fast and has a lot of drums… like when “Wipeout” was playing on “The 60’s on 6” (it was my turn), he drove a LOT faster. Doing my duty, I gently pointed this out. He glanced at me like I was crazy. But I saw him grin a few seconds later.
And excuse me, but I need to return to the non-multi-tasking, non-advice taking, GPS-needing traits one more time. Because there is a plus side too. When we took the exit off the highway yesterday to get onto our scenic reflector-imbedded road, the GPS (on its nice easy-to-read screen that pops out of the dash) shows us this big white arrow pointing to the right. And Guess Who gets into the left-turn lane.
And it felt really good to holler “TAKE A RIGHT!”