Driving


My sons are now driving. They now have their driver’s license at age seventeen because they took driver’s ed. At first, they were enthusiastic about driving, but now that they have been driving awhile, the excitement has worn off. Especially since the car wouldn’t start up twice and I had to help them get it running again. I told them that part of driving also involves having car problems and getting stranded far away from home. They told me that driving wasn’t much fun anymore.

I remember when I first learned to drive. I took driver’s ed in high school Indiana, but I couldn’t get my license mailed to me because I had moved back home to Chicago, Illinois. So, I didn’t drive until I was eighteen and I had bought my own car. Not that I’m complaining. I always enjoyed walking and taking public transportation when I was in high school.

After high school, my friends and I all had our own cars. Whenever we went anywhere, we all drove to our destination separately, in our own cars. If we had to car pool, Each one of us wanted to be the driver. The driver would drive his own car. There was an unwritten rule that no one was allowed to drive someone else’s car. Unless, they were in no condition to drive.

Now that we’re older, my friends and I don’t see much of each other. When we do, we still argue over who will drive. However, the dialogue goes like this: “You drive.” “No, you drive. I drove the last time!” “If you drive, I’ll let you drive my car!”

Sticking it to the man


Can't stop sticking it to the man!

I love sticking it to the man. I mean, who doesn’t? It’s an American pastime. We all stick it the man whenever possible. 

So who is the man? Well, if you want me to tell who the man is, I will be honest and say I don’t know who the man is. You asked the wrong person. But I have my theories. I can’t describe the man to you because he has never formally introduced himself to me. However, I have a sneaking suspicion that the man is behind all those rules and regulations that we must obey everyday. And to top it all off, the man may be either male or female. Yes, the man is a cross dresser. If you look around, you will observe that the man is all around us. In fact, sometime I feel as if the man has gotten inside of me. To counter the man, I have formulated my own rules and regulations for sticking it to the man. How do I stick it to The Man? Let me count the ways! 

First of all, always call the man, the man. In lowercase letters. You have to diss him in every way possible and that begins by not dignifying the man by using uppercase letters to write the man! Don’t even put the man in quotes! My only lament is that our only options for writing are only uppercase and lowercase fonts. I’ve been working on new font to write the man. I call it undercase. Or, perhaps I should call it negativecase. But I’m afraid such a font would be invisible to my readers and no one would know to whom I was sticking it. Another interesting possibility would be the man, with the strike-through font. Nah, that just not good enough for sticking it to the man! I think I’ll just stick to sticking it to the man.

The second thing, never tell the man that you are sticking it the man. Sometimes, the man doesn’t even know that he’s the man! If he denies that he’s the man, well, then that certainly means he’s the man. You just can’t take any chances. Just assume anyone who wants to order you around is the man.

So I stick it to the man whenever possible. When I cross the street, I don’t walk completely within the cross walk lines, obviously put their by the man. I always get at least three footsteps outside the cross walk zone, even it’s only measurable in millimeters. You know how they taught you in driver’s ed that all forward motion must cease. Well, I never come to a complete stop at stop signs. I only appear to stop, but my car keeps creeping forward. I get free smells at all restaurants–not just Jimmy John’s. I bite the hand that feeds me, especially if it belongs to the man. I would like to tell you more ways that I stick it to the man, but I don’t want the man to know all of my strategies and ploys. That’s my way of sticking it to the man!

How do you stick it to the man? 

2009 Chicago Auto Show


2009 Chicago Auto Show

Last year, I wrote about going to the Chicago Auto Show. This year I actually went to it. I wrote about how my father used to take my brothers and I to the Chicago Auto Show. This year, my oldest son dragged me along against my will. I find this amazing because my son doesn’t even have a driver’s license. He’s nineteen and he’s never taken driver’s ed. I gave him the Illinois Rules of the Road book to study twice with the promise that if he studied I would take to take the written test to get his driver’s permit. But he never studied and he still doesn’t have his permit. He’s just not that interested in driving or he would have gotten his driver’s license by now. Which reminds me of my friend Vito who has never–to my knowledge–ever had a driver’s license. My life would have been so different if I would have never gotten my driver’s license. I can’t even imagine how could exist without one.

Anyway, the Chicago Auto Show was fun even though I didn’t really want to go. I enjoyed it vicariously through my son who seemed to enjoy looking at the expensive cars that I cannot afford and probably wouldn’t drive even if I could afford them. I took some pictures of the cars. And then I took some more pictures of some more cars, but this time my son was in the pictures because he insisted on being in pictures with him in some of the cars. Of course, he offered to take a couple of pictures of me, for which I posed begrudgingly because I don’t really enjoy being photographed. One thing I did miss was the celebrities that used to come and sign autographs. And they no longer had beautiful models in evening gowns posing for amateur photographers near the new cars. There were plenty of workers continually wiping fingerprints off cars and keeping them shiny. But overall, I did have fun and was glad I went.