My First Drive

Plinky asked me, “Describe the first time you drove a vehicle.”

1957 Cadillac tailfins

When I was sixteen, I couldn’t wait to get my driver’s license. But, I had to go through my mom first. The wicked woman took me every evening to the state police barracks to practice my raw driving skill.

They had a figure eight configuration and a place where you could practice parallel parking. The problem was that she made me do this in her beast of a Cadillac. How cruel.

She made me back around the figure eight. She made me drive it over and over and over again. I hated her. I hated that stupid boat with wheels. This was just so unfair to make me practice in such a large vehicle. I decided right then I would NEVER own a Cadillac.

On the day of my driver’s test, my mom made me drive my dad’s car. What the hell? I was confused. We took his brand new 1972 Mercedes and I whipped it into the parallel parking spot. I drove the figure 8 like a pro. I even asked him if he wanted me to drive it backwards. I was “Teen-age Driver of the Year” for sure. I passed with flying colors.

My mom didn’t say a word on the way home. She sat there like Cock robin, though. Smug lady.

When we got home, my dad asked if it worked? My mom smiled and said, “Yes, I’m such a smart woman.”

She was. And I finally told her that when my own daughter was learning to drive. Unfortunately, we didn’t have a Cadillac for her to learn to drive in.

We had a van, though. Worked this time too.

My Holiday Travel Plans by Proxy

Plinky asked me, “Taking any trips this holiday season?”

Manchester Airport snow removal

I feel like I’ve taken a trip. My daughter tried to fly home from France on Dec. 19, and was stuck at Charles deGaulle airport in Paris for 2 nights. That is after she took a 6 hour train to Geneva airport and was delayed there for 8 hours before flying to Paris. She slept on the airport floor the first night. Did I mention they also lost her luggage? Well, it is in a pile of 30,000 bags taken off canceled planes and thrown in a pile. We still haven’t seen it.

This past Sunday, both of my kids left for France. But, did they book the same flights? Of course not. My daughter left Pittsburgh for Charles deGaulle and then on to Geneva, Switzerland. My son left Pittsburgh for Philadelphia. Yeah, he got stuck there. I don’t know why, but his flight was not canceled. Even after 3 hours and the pilot realized something was “leaking”. They had to put that plane away and get a new one. His flight did manage to leave, but 5 hours late. So, of course he missed his connecting flight to Geneva.

My daughter called from Geneva to let me know that Adam wasn’t at the airport. I told her to take out the book she bought on the way to the airport and read for awhile. I had no idea if he would be able to get a flight from Frankfurt, Germany, to Geneva, to meet up with her.

I finally got a facebook message that they met up and were now in Lyon, France.

This armchair traveler, air traffic controller mom doesn’t want to travel again for awhile.

Time in a Bottle

Plinky asked me, “If you could live forever, would you? Why or why not?”

Old People Sign

Juan Ponce de Leon once sailed across the Atlantic Ocean in search of Bimini and the fountain of youth. He never found it and died. We all die.

Vampires don’t die and they don’t look happy. They are pale and bored. Always hunting for their next meal. They never stop and take time to smell the roses. So, after careful thought, I’m here to tell you that I would not want to live forever.

The main reason I would not want to live forever is the fact that I would always have people living in my home. Think about it. My children would age. I guess I would always be the age I am now, so that would suck. 54. So, ok, my children age, so I would either be their care-giver or I would have to go visit them in a nursing home. I don’t think so.

And then my grand-children and so on and so on. Hell, I would be a walking genealogist. I am history. I guess it would be a huge advantage if I was the only one in the world who didn’t age, I would be on Oprah. Do the whole book circuit thing. “How to Age Gracefully…NOT” could be my book title. No, that would still suck.

I don’t want to watch my children die. How lonely a life.