OBLIVIOUS

It’s hard to imagine a worse driver than my father. If the dictionary had a picture personifying the word oblivious there would be a picture of my dad preferable behind the wheel of a car. What is truly amazing about his driving history is the fact that he never was involved in a serious auto accident. That’s not to say that he didn’t cause many. I’m sure he left many a fender-bender in his wake as he nonchalantly motored through his environment without the slightest consideration for other drivers that might perchance be sharing a given piece of real estate with him.

 

He was a doctor back in the day when doctors would make house calls. On one particular occasion while returning from a late night house call a driver began following my dad and seemed to be very agitated with him. My father’s interpretation of what was transpiring was that some “teenage punk” was harassing him for no apparent reason. More likely he had cut the poor fellow off causing a near collision and the irate driver wanted some form of retribution. Realizing that this “punk” was after him, my father drove to the police station looking for protection and as a result, the infuriated driver gave up the chase.

 

My poor younger sister found herself in the dubious situation of being taught to drive by none other than by clueless father. On one occasion he was demonstrating to my sister the concept of centrifugal force as it applied to motor vehicles. As he careened around a tight corner at high speed he held his pipe tightly between his teeth. While the tires screeched desperately trying to hold onto the road, my dad’s pipe swiveled from one side of his mouth to the other pivoting between his clenched teeth. My poor sister immediately comprehended the concept of centrifugal force, while at the same time wetting herself as a result of being fully terrorized.

 

I regrettably occupied a bedroom that was directly next to the garage. My bed lay right beside the wall that separated my room from were my father’s large yellow Pontiac was parked. What I’m about to relate happened more than once, which to this day I find it hard to believe that anyone could be so unconscious concerning things going on around them. As one drove into the garage there was a strip of steel fastened to the side of the garage to protect the structure in case anyone should accidentally clip the wall as they entered. Most drivers if they happened to touch the metal strip would immediately realize that the scraping sound they heard was the paint and metal being mechanically removed from the body of the car. Not my dad. I realize it might be hard to believe, but the scraping sound had absolutely no effect on my father’s forward progress. He would literally scrape the entire length of the car until the car was completely parked. The reason I know this is because my body was literally a foot away as this automotive mayhem was transpiring. This usually happened in the wee hours of the night when my dad was returning from seeing to a medical emergency. I’m just grateful that he never busted completely through the wall pinning me against the headboard of my bed squeezing all the life-giving fluids out of my body.

 

On one occasion my mother and I were standing side by side looking out the window of our house observing my dad as he was backing out of the garage on the way to his office. At the time, I had a little baby blue sports car that was parked on the far side of the driveway. Completely unaware, my dad backed up and proceeded to bump up against the rear side panel of my car, and then to push the car two feet sideways putting a large dent in the body of my beloved vehicle. After that, he nonchalantly took his car out of reverse, placed it into drive, and slowly motored out of the driveway. As my chin rested on my chest while my eyes moistened, my mom put her arm around me and simply said, “we’ll get it fixed.”

 

On another occasion, my surfing buddies and I were headed to the beach for a round of surfing. I was sitting in the shotgun position (front passenger side seat). In front of us was a white sedan that was poking along at half the posted speed limit. Not only was the car going much too slow, it was also meandering back and forth across the white line into the lane that we occupied. We putted along behind this fellow for a while waiting for the opportunity to pass without getting sideswiped by this obviously inattentive driver. All of us were becoming frustrated and impatient with the driver's lack of skill and overall piss poor driving technique. As we were about to pass I got a hair-brained idea. When we came up parallel to the car I leaned half way out the window and flashed the bird with both my left and right hand. Focusing on the driver, I realized that the jackass behind the wheel was my dad driving my mother’s car! I quickly withdrew from the window and curled up on the floor of the car. Lucky for me he was so oblivious to his surroundings he hadn’t even noticed me.

 

Normally protective of the people I love, one time I slipped up and let my girlfriend, later to be wife, ride with my father. He was in the process of taking his banged and abused automobile to a car wash and invited her to go along. She was gone before I was able to intervene, and as a result, her life was about to change and her fate was out of my hands. This was before cell phones. If I had been able to communicate with her I would have suggested that if the car should perchance slow to an acceptable speed she should immediately open the door and gingerly roll out onto the street. This might seem like an overly drastic action, but if you had a true understanding of how poor of a driver my father was you would not be so quick to judge. It had been at least ten years since my mother allowed him to chauffeur her around, and each year that passed by seemed to increase his lack of driving skill exponentially.

 

When my girlfriend Jeri returned she was a changed person. One thing she learned was that to my father a stop sign was a mere suggestion. If he felt he could blend into traffic without coming to a full stop first that’s exactly what he would do. He had absolutely no consideration how other drivers might perceive his actions. Jeri spent the greater part of the sojourn tapping her right foot on the floor simulating compressing a brake that was not there. I felt bad that she had to experience the terror involved with driving with my father at the wheel, but at least after that when I would tell her various stories about his driving exploits she would believe me.

 

In conclusion, I must report that yes my father was a terrible driver, but he made up for that lack of skill in that area by being a good doctor. I often wonder how many of his patients he ended up sewing together after they had survived a car accident that he had caused earlier that day. An accident he had slipped away from completely oblivious to the mayhem he had set in motion. I know there are many other examples of his driving exploits that have been permanently burned into the brains of many drivers. Fortunately, I’m not privy to all of his driving annals and so I’m not able to write about it. Just know that I have only skimmed the surface describing his driving history.

Reviews

[Gray Witch]

ROTFLMAO.... I have a sister who rival's your Dad ...I wrote a piece called "Driving is child's play"...about her.... I loved this...

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

This is hysterical. I laughed from beginning to end. I no longer get angry at older motorists who are clueless (surprisingly a lot) for the reason you so noted. was a good doctor. Thanks for another entertaining trip through your memory vault.

[emmajoy]

'When my girlfriend Jeri returned she was a changed person. One thing she learned was that to my father a stop sign was a mere suggestion. If he felt he could blend into traffic without coming to a full stop first that’s exactly what he would do. ; MAde me laugh, such wonderfully tight phrasing there!

So glad you suggested i read th is, have truly missed your stories, so good to see you flying again.

As always your words turn smiles on and your descriptions are so good. Wonder how this would turn out if you'd added bit of dialogue, could imagine some of the things you'd have said or how Jeri would have greeted you after riding with your dad! He reads to be a real character.. almost a Jekyll and Hyde!

Will viisit again, and again

[Robbie~xoxo~]

If you think he's a bad driver, in no way would you want to ride with me! lol :P
I can drive like a little old lady, and then BAM! road rage hits me with the slightest agitation. :D
A Great story...thank you for taking me on this crazy ride.

[roarke]

So, why stop there? .... no pun intended.... lol.

Well told story. Give more physical descriptions of your dad as he drove. Did he talk and drive? did he take his hands off the wheel? This is a tale rife with juicy bits just waiting to be expounded upon.

[quinfinn]

i am not a big fan of stories but i occasionally decide to indulge and see what happens. this is what happened with your story. i found it to be immediately engaging and well written and wrought with tongue in cheek humor which i truly enjoy. having said this i will now congratulate you on a very enjoyable write. well done, zeek4!