There is a short list of things that bug me in this world, and a good portion of the items on that list have to do with driving. It's funny because as children and teenagers we are all so enamored with the idea of learning to drive and getting our licenses. I remember being 16 and feeling like driving was an adventure. Any excuse would do. Want me to go to the grocery store, Mom? Can I take that letter to the post office for you? Even driving my little brother to school was so much fun!
For me, though, driving has lost its novelty. First of all, I hate traffic. I am the calmest person I know, but if there's one sure way to send my blood pressure to glorious new heights, it's sitting in a traffic jam. This makes me pretty picky about where I live: within 10 minutes of my job is ideal.
I also can not stand speed bumps. For some reason, they just seem to rattle me in the most unpleasant way. I am one of those people you see veering way left or right just to avoid a bump in a parking lot. Even if I can get one tire to stay on flat ground, I feel a little better about the whole experience. Maybe speed bumps remind me of all of the figurative bumps in the road of life that I've encountered in my 33 years.
Maintaining the car - what a pain! It's not enough that I have to keep myself clean, fueled up, waxed, and polished, but I am expected to do this all for my car too? No wonder that stuff is considered a man's job. My apartment always seems to need straightening up, my dog needs grooming, my plants want to be watered, and my job takes a little teeny bit of time, too. Where am I supposed to find the leftover seconds to get gas, wash the car, check the oil, get a tune-up, have the tires rotated . . . .?
Certainly cars seem to bring out the worst in people. How much tailgating, cursing, gesturing road rage is committed by folks who are perfectly pleasant, polite individuals in all other aspects of their lives? It seems that being enclosed in that big hunk of metal and gears emboldens us all to turn into jackasses.
Don't get me wrong - I don't mind getting out on the open road and cruising along on a road trip. If I can get a good talk-radio podcast going and keep a bag of salty munchies by my side, I'm content to drive for hours. Long, easy drives can actually be quite meditative and soothing, I've found. Plus, my car computer tells me my average mpg, and I just love watching it climb to 29, 30, 31 or beyond! But how often do those kind of drives really happen? Once, maybe twice a year for me.
Now, I have tried to make driving more pleasant in the best way I know how - by getting a car I absolutely love. My little wagon is definitely a prized possession, and I am a little more motivated to take care of it than I would be if I had a not-so-fun or aesthetically pleasing ride. But still, if I won the lottery tomorrow, the first thing I'd do is hire a chauffeur.
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