Just Drive

Just drive.

If you're behind the wheel of a car, on the road, moving at any speed: just drive.

There is no need or  rationale for you to be doing anything but keeping your mind on the fact that you are in control of an incredibly good-sized block of steel that can be accelerated to speeds in which this large good-sized block of steel becomes one incredibly good-sized weapon. So, what say you put down the cell phone, and the iPod and, for God's sake, take the animal out of your lap. Now.

There is a stretch of Beverwyck Road in Lake Hiawatha that I refer to as "Demolition Alley. It runs between the fire house at the corner of Lakeshore and Beverwyck down to where Beverwyck crosses Vail Road. I call it "Demolition Alley" because I have lost track of how many bad accidents I have seen along this small distance in the short time I have lived here. It's barely a quarter mile of road, with about 30 driveways to businesss and strip malls running along both sides. When you pull out onto Beverwyck anywhere within this area, you need about five sets of eyes to keep track of where someone else is possibly pulling out or coming at you. In front of FoodTown, you could start a car parts salvage business with all the broken pieces I have seen in the road.

So, yesterday pulling out of the post office, I saw a woman driving up the road with her dog in her lap. Between her and the wheel. I am a dog person. I am a big dog person. In fact, I probably own the biggest dog in Lake Hiawatha. But I am saying this to you people who think it's "cute" to let your dog ride in your lap while you're driving. You are quite possibly the stupidest human beings to have ever been given driver's licenses. How dare you risk your life, your animal's life, and most importantly, the lives of every other person you cross paths with on the road. Your lap, while you are behind the wheel of a car, is the last place on Earth where there should be a moving, living animal. Seriously. You don't see me driving up 46 with my 200-pound Neopolitan Mastiff on my lap, so guess what? I don't want to see you zipping along with your five-pound Pomeranian behind the wheel, either.

But then again, I see many of you feel the no cell phone use without a hands-free attachment while driving law doesn't apply to you. Oh, yes. A day doesn't go by where I still don't see people texting or holding their cell phones in one hand while they steer with the other. Once again, people: It's the law. And that means everyone. I don't give a shaved baboon's behind how important your call is. I don't care if you're only on your phone for a minute. My life and my kid's lives are worth more than just a minute of your time and are a lot more important than that call. You need to make a call? Pull over.

And, speaking of driving with my kids. I must have been single and childless when all these new laws regarding children in cars were passd. The youngest "Pod" turned 11 last month, so I said to her, "You gonna ride in the front seat?" She replied immediately, "No. I don't weigh enough yet to ride up front." Really? If we get pulled over, will the police break out a scale and weigh you here along the side of the road?

I should have known things were different the day I let the "Pod" ride in the back of the SUV. Wow. Did that cause a situation at home. Here's exactly what happened. I pick up the youngest from school and as we get in the car she says, "Can I ride in the back across the parking lot?". Ride in the back across the parking lot? Sure. I guess if you think that is the peak of excitement. So, she climbs in the back and I drive across the parking lot. I stop. She gets in the back seat and straps herself in. I would think that was the end of that.

Boy, was I wrong. As we walk in the kid starts screaming, "I got to ride in the back of the car! I got to ride in the back of the car!" My wife freaked. Now, you would think from her reaction that I had bungee-corded the kid to the hood and took off on 287 at 60 mph. It was across 50 feet of parking lot at 10 mph. 11 mph tops!

Now, you have to realize that I grew up in the 1960s with a father who was in the Marine Corps. That meant I spent 70 percent of my life in cars driving long distances, either between bases or just going on vacation. It was a normal vacation for me to spend 10 hours riding in the seats in the "way back" of a 1968 Ford station wagon with the flatulent English bulldogs. And these "seats," by the way, were two 2-1/2-foot steel bench seats that normally covered the spare tire wheel well. Oh, yes. No air conditioning in those days. If you were lucky, someone 30 feet away in the front of the car might have a window open. Because the back of those station wagons were surrounded on three sides with windows made out of the same stuff they used to make magnifying glasses. For seven years I was a bug under the burning California desert sun every June through August. To this day my mother wonders why I hate to drive or ride in cars for any length of time.

So, just drive, ok? Put your phone away. Leave your dog at home, or at least seat belt it into the backseat. Quit trying to find a different song on your iPod. Just drive.