Driven By Miss Daisy

The dangers of driving on the road.

There simply no way of putting it, my ex-mother-in-law is a road hazard. This is not to say that she can’t drive, for what she does behind the steering wheel of an automobile does have some resembles of that very act, although it would be considerably safer for all parties involved, directly and indirectly, if she weren’t doing it at all.  Even if you were to strap four blinking bright orange barrels on each corner of her mini-van, provide it with very loud sirens, clear a section of the express way for a 2 mile radius, and hire a crack sniper to fly over head in a copter with orders to shoot anything that inadvertently wonders into said area, it still wouldn’t guarantee anybody’s safety.  Ms. Daisy (her name has been changed to protect the innocent, namely me) is not only a bad driver, she would be a great asset for those who are seeking to encourage public transportation. Ah, but you are thinking that maybe I’m being a bit unfair just because she was my mother-in-law, that there are worst drivers. Yes, you are right, there are some drivers who are pretty bad.

Take for example the “Twit”, who believes that multi-tasking is not only a rule of thumb, but of the road as well. You know the type (or if you are reading this you know who you are), they are always swerving down the highway at rush hour, drink in one hand, breakfast sandwich (granola bar, cigarette, eyelash brush, shaver) in the other as they text (don’t ask me how) and steer with their knees. The first time I had the privilege to be almost driven off the road by one of these I was watching an suv moving at a high rate of speed erratically switching lanes. When I pulled up next to the driver, I looked over to see that she was staring down at something on her lap. My thoughts were racing;

 “Could she have spilled something hot and was now suffering from 3rd degree burns?”

 “Was her shoe caught in the floor pedals making it impossible for her to use the brake?”

 “Did someone throw a live grenade into her lap and she was attempting to defuse it before it blew?”

I waved and made a gesture of inquiry, she flipped me off and continued on her speedy way texting on her Black Berry.

Then are the immigrant drivers who believe that traffic laws are universal, meaning that if there weren’t any laws where they came from then there aren’t any here either. The worst offenders around my neck of the woods are the veil covered women from the Middle East and their dreaded mini-vans. Al-Qaeda can take a few notes in terror just watching one of these beauties driving down the road. Maybe it’s just me but I have always been under the impression that when driving the last thing you want to do is wrap your head under several layers of fabric? On the other hand this could be a particular quirk of mine, but I would like to be able to see where I going when I’m moving at 70 miles an hour in a heavy cage steel on wheels.

And speaking of seeing, oh hell of just being aware that you are breathing for that matter of fact, there are the ones I affectionately call “coffin on wheels”. They are usually manned by one of those octogenarians barely able to see above the steering wheel. They drive unerringly to their destination as long, that is, they can remember where that was. Oh, and don’t you just love those wrap around dark glasses?

Yes, there are some bad drivers out there but I still insist that none are worst then Ms. Daisy. You only have to experience a white knuckled ride down a busy four lane road as you search in vain for that invisible brake you wish had on the passenger side floor to know what I mean. To feel the pain of whiplash as you fly down residential blocks and stopping at every corner (whether there’s a stop sign or not)  while praying that the next one will finally snap your neck and ended all.  Then there the shear terror of Ms. Daisy accidentally getting on the freeway, watching her close her eyes while we are hurled straight towards an oncoming semi, seeing her let go of the wheel and scream, “make it go away, make it go away!”

To this day I still pray in praise that I will never have to be driven by her ever again.