Brian Curry
Brian Curry
I’ve pretty much abdicated, surrendered, and given up the side of my vehicle that has the steering wheel, the gas pedal, and the brake.
No need to worry, I have not lost my marbles, my eyesight, or even my sense of direction. All of them are still within acceptable boundaries, according to the various doctors that I have driven myself to lately.
And, yes, it is even a rather misogynistic thought to presume that the driver’s side of the auto is the domain of only the male members of the species. It’s not, and I don’t feel it is, but in the interest of peace … and quiet, I just threw in the figurative towel.
My wife Debra, who will read this column long before it stares back at you from your copy of the Splash, would be the first one to agree that she is not a good passenger. When not in control of those aforementioned wheels, pedals, and brakes, she feels very anxious.
Mind you, my driving record is okay. Our auto insurance premiums have no significant dings on them, and I’m not on a first-name basis with the local body shop. Having said that, I do have some scrapes and dents to own up to, but not of the moving violations sort.
Debra is a Class A type of behavior woman. She has been in charge or in control of her health-related job, her own business, and even our household finances. Me? If I have a roof over my head, a pillow underneath it, and three squares, I’m good to go.
So, even though I stay in my lane, use my directionals, and follow the rules of the road, why am I willingly sliding over to the passenger side?
Her reactions to imagined or even real hazards leave me even more nervous than her. If she senses that a car is too close or a hazard is not being seen, she will let out a “Watch!” while pushing down on the imaginary brake pedal and grabbing her seat.
Now, I’m all for a heads-up or a warning ahead of a problem, but offer me more than a “Watch.” Watch what? A car? A pedestrian? An immovable object? Or is a jet going to land on Riggs Road in front of me?
I, of course, respond to this command (usually said in a higher voice than normal) by my head jerking in 34 different directions, a clutching of the steering wheel, and about 20 evasive driving movements in every which way. For what, I have no idea!
That’s pretty much why, for the most part, I will now gladly have nothing more important than the glove box on my side of the car. I have not sent back my driver’s license and still get behind the wheel for any solo jaunts I may find myself motoring to.
What I hadn’t counted on was the many benefits to not driving. I am now actually seeing the scenery, the roadside attractions, the signage, and nature. Of course, when I spot something newsworthy, I may try to point out something only to get a “I’m trying to watch the road here,” something I’ve said to her many a time.
But, overall, things are quieter and more peaceful as I watch the world pass by. That is, until I utter that word, “Watch!”
Brian Curry is a longtime Long Island Advance columnist and is a three-time winner of the New York State Press Association’s “Column of the Year.” You can contact him at [email protected].