While Dad and I were out for our evening stroll recently (It may have been while in our car. Time and our activities are just so muddled lately), we were passed by a slow-moving car, and I was immediately transported back in time. I saw what appeared to be an adult seated in the passenger seat with a young person at the wheel. The man appeared to be looking down, presumably reading something very important on his cell phone rather than watching possibly the last moments of his life unfold before his eyes.
I told Dad that it appeared that she was a new driver, and I was surprised that he was not paying any attention to her. When I was teaching all of you to drive, I was always conscious that I was taking my life in my hands, so I was never as relaxed as the passenger in that car.
I especially recalled driving to a mall in Atlanta with Casey, and she did not want to drive on a highway (nor did I). But I knew she had to learn, so I figured I would throw caution to the wind and force her to drive north on 400 for our little shopping excursion.
There was no way that I was relaxed enough to be surfing the Internet or checking my email. No siree! I had a responsibility as a driving instructor and to the preservation of our lives to keep my eyes on Casey and the cars whizzing by us.
She was a nervous wreck and made me do the driving on the return trip home. What was wrong with that man in the other car?