Driving Lesson

April 20, 2008

It being a nice day, and Eldest Son being 14.5 years old, I decided it was time to take him and my vehicle up to the local high school parking lot and get him behind the wheel. I figure I've got about a year to get him acclimated to controlling a 2000-pound lethal weapon before he gets official training and I get to start paying higher insurance rates.

He did fine except... well, there was that one point where we were stopped about 10 feet in front of the curb and I told him to pull right, and he slammed on the gas and we went blasting up onto the curb.

It's not like I wasn't expecting him, at some point, to forget the difference between gas and brake. In fact, that's what I was looking for, and why I kept my hand on the emergency brake. (And told him to stay completely away from the numerous light posts).

I decided, however, that for The Dad this whole thing just isn't a lot of fun. I'm sure I'll do it again, many times, because I remember when I first got behind the wheel how foreign it felt and what a steep learning curve there was to just get used to handling turns and stepping on the gas, let alone looking out for other cars, head-checks and all the various traffic laws.

I also remember my father's teaching me how to drive a stick-shift in the high school parking lot. Now, my father, though he had a fairly pleasant disposition, was a shouter. And he shouted a lot. I'm not a shouter (although, as the VUE crashed up onto the curb and the grass divider I was saying rather excitedly, "Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!"), but there is some stress involved in this endeavor.

Wish me well.

Cheers,

Mark Terry