Driver's Ed at 24
For me, driving a car is not like riding a bike.
I learned to drive at the normal age, slightly delayed because I couldn't take Driver's Ed after school (being an overacheiving 3-sport athlete in high school, I always had practice). But I took a course in the summer and got my license when I was 17. I even passed the test on the first try. However, living in NYC and going to college in DC, I never needed a car and I hardly ever drove my parents beloved vehicle (formerly an Audi, now a Volvo). Occasionally I would get behind the wheel, but I didn't log nearly enough time to become comfortable. It also didn't help my confidence when I saw that an entire installment of 20/20 was dedicated to the shady practices of driving schools and mine - even my nice driving instructor Mario - was prominently featured.
When I tell people that I don't really drive, the reaction is usually split. Some people (often New Yorkers) are like, "well of course, you're from the City, why would you ever need to drive?" Other people laugh at me and look at me like I'm some sort of pathetic freak lacking a fundamental life skill. I realized that as I got older, I was at a crossroads. I could either accept that I was one of those people who really doesn't ever drive, and hope to become wealthy enough to be able to afford car services and/or a chauffeur throughout my entire eccentric adult life. Or, I could suck it up, and practice driving, so at the very least I could become good enough that I didn't feel like I was risking many people's lives every time I got into the driver's seat.
Actually, it's kind of a fib that I came to this decision all on my own. I'd always felt like I should be a better, more experienced driver, but I was willing to put this task off indefinitely. That is, until I got to go to LA for work and had to admit to my boss and co-workers that I didn't feel comfortable renting a car once I got there. Stupid Enterprise Rent-A-Car made it impossible for me to hide behind the I'm-not-old-enough-to-rent-a-car excuse because they'll rent cars to like, infants. So my inability to drive, the fact that I could count the number of times I'd driven anywhere - once viewed as adorable or at least understandable - was now fodder for office teasing and embarrassment. Once in LA, it wasn't that big a deal. I stayed at a hotel right near my boss so he could pick me up and drop me off to wherever we both needed to be. But as everyone knows, LA is all about cars, so when my boss wasn't around, I was pretty much screwed. I took a walk from my hotel to the nearest Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf one day and the streets were eerily empty, like I was in a Western right before the crowd spilled out of the saloon to watch the gunfight. People in cars stared at me like I was a sad little tourist. And I sort of was. So I thought, enough already, and vowed to practice so that I could no longer be mocked or laughed at, at least not for my non-driving.
I thought about taking driving lessons somewhere official, at some fancy driving school, like the one I'd been to before and was later the subject of an expose by John Stossel using a hidden camera. Then it hit me, why not take the normal route, and have one of my parents take me driving! Somehow this job fell to my father. Well actually, I don't think this was by accident, since the main memory I have of driving with my Mom back in the day is of her gripping the side of the car while yelling my name.
Driver's Ed with Michael Goldberg commenced about 3 weeks ago. So far I've driven through much of the city, on the West Side Highway, on the FDR, and most recently, up to Fieldston. We're working up to parking, which I fear like the Bubonic Plague. My Dad is a good teacher, very patient and encouraging, and sometimes he's probably even too gentle when he points out things like, "um, you know Sue, that was a red light." But the best thing about Driver's Ed with my Dad is the hilarious reverse-psychology tactic he's taken in building up my confidence in my driving. The basic theme is this: don't get too stressed, ignore them if they honk at you, don't worry if you stop short or have to accelerate through a yellow light, don't mind at all if people are continually passing you on the highway, because...you're a woman, and that's what they expect. I admit that I was alarmed at first, wondering why instead of instilling positive thinking, my Dad was repeating a mantra of sexism. But I decided to give my Dad the benefit of the doubt and this was the right decision, because his backwards and retarded way of reassuring me, it fucking worked. Every time I'd get anxious or upset at something I did or didn't do while driving, he'd remind me that it's okay because I'm just a girl, nobody's really expecting excellence. There won't be any road rage towards me, all will be forgiven once the drivers see that it's a woman behind the wheel. I can't really explain why this "logic" worked on me. I think my Dad just knew that lowering expectations would help to relieve the pressure I felt. And he knew that I'd see the humor behind his methodology, because everyone in my family knows that my Mom is a much better driver than my Dad.
Driver's Ed at 24 years old has been interesting. I think with me it's all about practice, driving on a regular basis so that I can achieve a level of consistency and comfort. And I'm going to continue with the lessons so that when I get to go to LA again for work, I can rent a car and feel good about it (i.e. every time I check over my shoulder before a lane-change, the car doesn't swerve). Driving with my Dad has been fun and I owe him a lot, for he has instilled in me a unique confidence: every time I do something really great or smart while driving, well, it's both surprising and commendable, because frankly, I'm just a chick.
I learned to drive at the normal age, slightly delayed because I couldn't take Driver's Ed after school (being an overacheiving 3-sport athlete in high school, I always had practice). But I took a course in the summer and got my license when I was 17. I even passed the test on the first try. However, living in NYC and going to college in DC, I never needed a car and I hardly ever drove my parents beloved vehicle (formerly an Audi, now a Volvo). Occasionally I would get behind the wheel, but I didn't log nearly enough time to become comfortable. It also didn't help my confidence when I saw that an entire installment of 20/20 was dedicated to the shady practices of driving schools and mine - even my nice driving instructor Mario - was prominently featured.
When I tell people that I don't really drive, the reaction is usually split. Some people (often New Yorkers) are like, "well of course, you're from the City, why would you ever need to drive?" Other people laugh at me and look at me like I'm some sort of pathetic freak lacking a fundamental life skill. I realized that as I got older, I was at a crossroads. I could either accept that I was one of those people who really doesn't ever drive, and hope to become wealthy enough to be able to afford car services and/or a chauffeur throughout my entire eccentric adult life. Or, I could suck it up, and practice driving, so at the very least I could become good enough that I didn't feel like I was risking many people's lives every time I got into the driver's seat.
Actually, it's kind of a fib that I came to this decision all on my own. I'd always felt like I should be a better, more experienced driver, but I was willing to put this task off indefinitely. That is, until I got to go to LA for work and had to admit to my boss and co-workers that I didn't feel comfortable renting a car once I got there. Stupid Enterprise Rent-A-Car made it impossible for me to hide behind the I'm-not-old-enough-to-rent-a-car excuse because they'll rent cars to like, infants. So my inability to drive, the fact that I could count the number of times I'd driven anywhere - once viewed as adorable or at least understandable - was now fodder for office teasing and embarrassment. Once in LA, it wasn't that big a deal. I stayed at a hotel right near my boss so he could pick me up and drop me off to wherever we both needed to be. But as everyone knows, LA is all about cars, so when my boss wasn't around, I was pretty much screwed. I took a walk from my hotel to the nearest Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf one day and the streets were eerily empty, like I was in a Western right before the crowd spilled out of the saloon to watch the gunfight. People in cars stared at me like I was a sad little tourist. And I sort of was. So I thought, enough already, and vowed to practice so that I could no longer be mocked or laughed at, at least not for my non-driving.
I thought about taking driving lessons somewhere official, at some fancy driving school, like the one I'd been to before and was later the subject of an expose by John Stossel using a hidden camera. Then it hit me, why not take the normal route, and have one of my parents take me driving! Somehow this job fell to my father. Well actually, I don't think this was by accident, since the main memory I have of driving with my Mom back in the day is of her gripping the side of the car while yelling my name.
Driver's Ed with Michael Goldberg commenced about 3 weeks ago. So far I've driven through much of the city, on the West Side Highway, on the FDR, and most recently, up to Fieldston. We're working up to parking, which I fear like the Bubonic Plague. My Dad is a good teacher, very patient and encouraging, and sometimes he's probably even too gentle when he points out things like, "um, you know Sue, that was a red light." But the best thing about Driver's Ed with my Dad is the hilarious reverse-psychology tactic he's taken in building up my confidence in my driving. The basic theme is this: don't get too stressed, ignore them if they honk at you, don't worry if you stop short or have to accelerate through a yellow light, don't mind at all if people are continually passing you on the highway, because...you're a woman, and that's what they expect. I admit that I was alarmed at first, wondering why instead of instilling positive thinking, my Dad was repeating a mantra of sexism. But I decided to give my Dad the benefit of the doubt and this was the right decision, because his backwards and retarded way of reassuring me, it fucking worked. Every time I'd get anxious or upset at something I did or didn't do while driving, he'd remind me that it's okay because I'm just a girl, nobody's really expecting excellence. There won't be any road rage towards me, all will be forgiven once the drivers see that it's a woman behind the wheel. I can't really explain why this "logic" worked on me. I think my Dad just knew that lowering expectations would help to relieve the pressure I felt. And he knew that I'd see the humor behind his methodology, because everyone in my family knows that my Mom is a much better driver than my Dad.
Driver's Ed at 24 years old has been interesting. I think with me it's all about practice, driving on a regular basis so that I can achieve a level of consistency and comfort. And I'm going to continue with the lessons so that when I get to go to LA again for work, I can rent a car and feel good about it (i.e. every time I check over my shoulder before a lane-change, the car doesn't swerve). Driving with my Dad has been fun and I owe him a lot, for he has instilled in me a unique confidence: every time I do something really great or smart while driving, well, it's both surprising and commendable, because frankly, I'm just a chick.
posted by Susan Goldberg at 11:30 AM
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