I sideswiped a brick wall this week. It wasn’t a very high brick wall, just a 12” planter which I hit when I was making a turn into a hospital parking lot.
I wasn’t approaching fast, either. I was approaching slowly, trying to figure out where in a crowded, unfamiliar lot I could find a spot. But that’s the thing about taking a streak of paint off your car, you can do it just as efficiently if you are going slowly as if you are going fast, and next thing you know there it is, that sickening crunch of metal.
SCRUUNCHHHH!!!
It made a small dent in my car door, but a large dent in my confidence. Was the brick wall swipe – a brush, practically an air kiss -- a sign of the dread Older Driver Incompetence?
That wall, as I cannot stress too strongly, was so low you’d have to have been driving a clown car to see it. But your peripheral vision deteriorates as you get older and I have to wonder: Was the problem me?
I pride myself on being a careful, proactive driver. I have taken two online driver refresher courses in the last four years, one designed by AARP, the other the New York Safety Program, approved by New York State. Taking the courses brings down my insurance rates, it also gives me information about car technology that has changed in the nearly sixty years since I learned to drive. For instance, Stuff About Air Bags
I was taught, in high school Driver Ed, circa ‘64, to keep my hands at 2 and 10 on the steering wheel. But according to the New York Safety course, because of airbags, you are now supposed to keep your hands at 3 and 9 so if you collide with, say, a reckless, fast-moving brick wall and the airbag explodes, your hands won’t be violently pushed into your face, knuckling out an eyeball.
I had never thought about the violence of airbags; I thought they were my fat pillowy friends, extra solicitous as the portly tend to be, who would shield me when the motorcyclist doing wheelies in front of me lost his balance and skidded into my car. Now, I find out, they are sacks of simmering aggression.
I also learned, in the New York Safety course, that the driver’s chest should be at least ten inches from the steering wheel column so it doesn’t jam into your body on impact and skewer you like a shish kebob. Maybe it’s twenty inches. I can’t remember and once you complete this course, they don’t let you back in to check. You cannot refresh the refresher course, although there are certain bits of information I have retained. For instance, the quiz in which they ask, “Is driving 1) a right or 2) a privilege?” The answer: It is 2) a privilege. It is carrying an automatic weapon in the front seat which is a right.
The AARP course was more about compensation: Yes, now that you are older your reflexes have slowed down and your eyesight is not what it once was, but you can still make do well enough to drive to your doctor appointments. Allow for your diminished reaction time by giving your full attention to complicated lane changes or unfamiliar routes. Tell your passengers you can’t talk because you need to concentrate, turn off the music – oops, that was the GPS, no don’t try to find it when you’re making a left across three lanes --
SCRUUUNCH!!! SCPLOTT!!! AIRBAG ASSAULT ON I-95!!
That crash could have been avoided had you remembered the ten-second rule. Stay at least 10 car lengths — 10 seconds -- behind the car in front of you; in the case of rain, increase that to 20 car lengths – 20 seconds; in the case of black ice, the emergency room, where you will get excellent coverage thanks to your AARP Supplemental insurance.
The problem with driving refresher classes is, of course, that once you take them, it makes you hyper-aware not only of your driving but of everybody else’s.
A few years ago, I noticed that I occasionally drove over curbs while making a turn. At first, I blamed the conditions of the roads; there was obviously shabby workmanship, resulting in a high proportion of lumps. After taking the AARP course, however, I learned about age-related vision problems. I went to my eye doctor, had cataract surgery, got new glasses and things were much improved. Or, judging from that brick planter, maybe not.
I am now acutely aware of curb jumping and there is no diplomatic way to bring it up.
I couldn’t help but notice, because of the screams and sirens, that you just drove over a stroller on the side of the curb. That used to happen to me and it turned out I had a problem with my peripheral vision. It’s one of those things that happens with aging. Love your hat, by the way. So, it just occurred to me, have you had your eyes checked lately?
Here’s what you’ll get in response:
There’s nothing wrong with my vision, I just had it checked and it’s perfect.
That woman pushed her stroller into my path. It was probably post-partum depression, but do they have a breathalyzer for that?
I drive every day. You’re the weekend driver who lives in Manhattan. Get out of the car and walk home if my driving scares you that much. By the way, you have terrible taste in boyfriends.
And what do you tell a friend who slows down on the highway when spotting a car on the entrance ramp, giving the oncoming driver mixed signals about intent? This is a common problem of the over-cautious driver, which is how I sometimes introduce myself at parties. I broke this habit with the help of a boyfriend who had me chant, “My car, my lane; my car, my lane.” This is somewhat ironic because, in the metaphoric sense, he never stayed in his lane. He died a few years ago, but would you give me a minute, while I roll down the car window and holler a message to him in the sweet bye and bye?
Vic, you sonofabitch, you couldn’t keep it zipped for one weekend?
Where was I? Oh, right, suggesting your friends take a driver refresher course. Terrible idea. Even if you pretend it’s strictly financial.
You know, I just took this AARP driving course. It was only $24.99, I could do it online, and, over three years, it’s going to save me $300! That’s like, two lunches in New York.
They will see right through you.
Why, do you think there’s something wrong with my driving? Don’t deny it. I see the way your foot hits the floor when I come to an intersection. You’re the lousy driver who sideswiped a brick wall. Get out of the car and walk back to New York.
Drivers will also be annoyed if you casually mention how much larger trucks have become or draw their attention to bikers, deer at the side of the road, drivers checking their texts, them checking their texts, and road work signs.
The one highway hazard you are free to point out is a Lamborghini stranded on the side of the New York State Thruway – that gives everyone a nice, warm feeling. Also, 12” brick planters. That would have saved me real money.
Now, I must go make an appointment with the eye doctor.
Am guessing many of us have had similar experiences. Oy! You're at least able to write a funny essay about your dust-up with a stationary object. A few years ago, I backed into a small pole next to a gas pump (attempting to get close enough to use the #*%$ pump) and did $1700 worth of damage to the passenger side doors of my little car. In CA, car insurance is already headache-inducingly expensive and pity us poor fools who have to call in a claim...
My brandy new Hybrid (i was being sooo environmentally sound) was 46 hours old, when a coyote ran out of the woods on NYS Thruway and pushed the front of the car into the engine. 3 and 1/2 months later the new radiator was installed. So even fekking wildlife is intoxicated, not only brick walls.