Me and Automobiles

Daily writing prompt
What’s something most people don’t know about you?

One thing that people don’t know about me is my relationship to cars and driving. I learned how to drive rather late in my life (age 32). This is not usual for the US where a driver’s license at sixteen is a rite of passage.

I was different. Behind the wheel of a car, I was a hazard. Among the things I managed in driver’s ed: stopping in the middle of the railroad tracks to check for trains, butting the car into a snow drift in an otherwise empty parking lot, and making a 180-degree turn into a parking lot when all I intended was to turn the corner. Needless to say, I did not get my driver’s license in high school.

I took drivers’ ed again, and that time got through it. I didn’t, however, get my driver’s license because my parents were too scared to take me to the testing facility to get tested. I didn’t blame them. Eventually, when I had taken a break from college, I got the license but never drove on it, and my skills extincted. It didn’t help that I got hit by a car in my late 20’s, breaking my leg and resulting in a bar in my left tibia to hold it together.

When I was in college and grad school, I lived in a city with excellent public transit, so I didn’t miss having a car. It wasn’t until I lived in Oneonta, New York, my first teaching job, that I felt the pinch of not being able to drive. Oneonta was a rural town in the foothills of the Catskill Mountains, and there was an arts scene in the area — all spread out from Oneonta to West Kortright to Delhi to Franklin. Only accessible with a car.

I took driver’s ed with the best person I could have found, a laid-back man named Lee Fisher. He taught adults how to drive, and thus he knew how to deal with people who struggled to drive. It turned out that, when I drove, all the little pieces of driving wanted to happen in my head all at once. Think of all the actions needed for a right-hand turn: slowing down, activating the turn signal, braking at the stop sign, looking both way, accelerating slowly while turning the wheel, straightening the wheel … my mind couldn’t sort them in order. I learned to drive by reciting all the moves in order just before doing them. When I no longer needed to say them out loud, I went to get my driver’s license, and succeeded.

I didn’t let those skills extinct, instead getting myself a car to drive. I made a lot of mistakes, had a couple accidents, and spent a couple years in the assigned risk pool with expensive insurance coverage. But I got used to driving.

I have never become an excellent driver. I balk at interstate driving, although I can and will do it if necessary. But driving is a part of my life now.

Excerpt from Kringle Through the Snow

This is an excerpt from the latest Kringle romance, which will be published October 1, 2024:

Surprised by the visitor, Sierra DuBois stood up from her desk at the Venue Barn, where she worked as general manager and event planner. Sierra looked neat, from her shiny brown bob to her crisp white blouse and slacks, against the room strewn with fabric samples, receipts, and white tulle. The red-headed woman at her door wore an emerald-green suit and carried a clipboard.

“Sierra DuBois?” she asked. “I’m Sally Perkins, head of the Chamber of Commerce and vice-president of the Rolling Hills Improvement Committee.”

“Yes, please, come in.” Sierra noted Sally had already started walking into the office.

The two sat, and before Sierra could speak, Sally introduced her topic. “You know the city wants to start a fun little initiative with the community for the Christmas season. A Grinch initiative?”

“As in, green guy who doesn’t want the neighbors to celebrate?” Sierra had watched the animated TV special about the Grinch since she was Cindy Lou Who-sized.

“Yes. He’s a favorite among kids and adults alike. Quite the thing.” Sally looked down at her clipboard. “We would like to incorporate him into holiday events. He’ll already be riding the fire truck in the Christmas parade, and -”

“What happened to Santa Claus?”

“They’re on the truck together.”

Sierra couldn’t imagine they could both fit in the truck’s basket, given that Santa’s belly was quite jolly. “What can I help you with?”

Sally took a deep breath, and Sierra felt a bit of apprehension. “We would like it if you could incorporate The Grinch into your gala.”

“Oh.” Sierra said. “The charity gala. You know the gala is an elegant event that raises hundreds of dollars for community philanthropies.”

“Yes, I know. The Chamber donates to the setup every year. As I recall, Ray’s Liquors donates 75 bottles of bubbly every year.”

Seventy-five bottles of Cordon Negro wasn’t Dom Perignon, but it was still a hefty donation. And when someone receives that big a donation, one gives back. “Sally, let’s work together on this. How can we incorporate the Grinch into this gala without losing the panache?”

“That’s your job.” Sally stood. “I would hate to get in your way.” And with that, just as abruptly, she left.