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2002 Buick Century |
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"Stop! There's a stoplight!" "Mom, I see it." "I thought you weren't going to
stop." "Mom, I know a red light means stop." "But you weren't slowing
down." "Mom, I don't ride the brake. I step on the brake when we get
closer to the light." "You scared me. I thought you weren't going to
stop." "The state of Missouri thinks I can drive, Mom." "But you don't
know this place or where the stoplights are!" "Mom, I have eyes, I can
see the stoplights. I am not stupid." "I'm not saying you're stupid, I'm
saying you don't know how to drive here." "I've been driving for 40
years, Mom." "Now the light is going to turn green." "Yes, I know."
"And when it turns green, you go." "Yes, Mom, I know that." "I'm just
trying to help, I don't want a smash-up." "There won't be any smash-up."
"I worry. I don't want to wreck the car" [2002 Buick Century,
44,000 miles]. "I won't wreck the car." "Now turn here; look both ways. No, no, not here; I didn't want
to turn here, I meant the next one." [Stony silence from driver.] "Now here comes a
car; watch out, there's a car!" (Gasps, clutches car seat.) "Mom, I see the car." "It was coming right at us!" "No, it was in its lane." "I don't want us to get hit!" "Mom, I think (laughing)
you might be a control freak." "Oh, you talk so nasty to me. You make me cry. You cut me to the
heart" (weeping). "That doesn't work on me anymore, Mom." "You called me a
freak (weeping) and you called me something else before."[Thirty seconds of stony silence.] "Now we're at 56th. In two more blocks we'll be at 58th."
After I've run a half marathon, it's hard for me to ride as a passenger in a car. I often shout to my wife to stop or slow down or watch out. I think I'd grown so accustomed to moving forward at a slow pace, and a car is going much too fast for my mind to deal with at that moment.
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