By ROD WALTON Staff Writer on Jul 5, 2012, at 1:42 PM Updated on 7/05 at 1:42 PM
BECAUSE I SAID SO
April is the cruelest month, especially if you're planning a summer vacation. The days, weeks and months are just starting ...
I’ve heard that agitated voice way too times. My eldest daughter was stressed out by the specter of a major life event happening ...
Not sure if my kids are historically aware enough to have a favorite president yet, but I’m making a big plug for Abraham ...
CONTACT THE BLOGGER
918-581-8457
Email
My first car accident happened so fast it was before I even had my license.
My dad kept an old Chevy Impala, circa 1965, around for mom to drive on occasion. Once I celebrated my 15th birthday and was almost ready for driving school, I talked him into letting me regularly pilot the ship-like Impala all of 20 feet to park it in the garage at night.
It was easy work and I was glad to get it. One evening, though, the brain slipped a little as I approached the back wall, causing me to press right foot on gas instead of brake and causing the Impala to smack into that back wall something fierce.
Fortunately, the wall survived, despite some fallen tools and paint cans, and, even more importantly, I survived. My dad is a graceful man.
My parents were forewarned, but they still let me get a permit, then a license and eventually even a car. I went through myriad fender benders and more than a handful of speeding tickets before I finally learned my lesson. And, above all else, I always lived to tell the tale.
These lessons and the relevance of luck come back loud and clear now that mine have their own cars and even their own minor mishaps to recount for their children someday. And strangely, I find myself a little glad for little bitty dents or bent rims if only it serves as a wakeup call for the young driver facing a world of careless, sometimes hostile motorists.
First I digress. See, I have a love-hate relationship with buying new tires. Seems like something destructive happens every time I invest my few and far in-between Ben Franklins on some 195 75 R 14s or whatever fits the wheel.
So it should have been no surprise last Saturday when I sprung for a new pair of Firestones on my 18 year old’s Sunfire. I remember that creepy feeling coming over me, only an hour before she took off on a shopping trip and returned only five minutes later, a frightened quiver to her voice and the dew-like brushing of tears in her eyes.
She had set off with a happy ignorance of just how fast those new tires can turn unexpected directions. My daughter turned her attention to the radio’s digital dial and took it off the road. The Sunfire veered across a lane, into a yard and almost took out a road sign.
Thank God - and I mean this in all devout seriousness - it was only a cracked, plastic bumper and one slightly bent rim. The sign survived, there was no oncoming traffic and my girl still has her Sunfire and sweet smile.
Every parent I know both anticipates and dreads that day when their child pulls into the DMV parking lot with a big grin on their face and an important piece of plastic in their hand. You like the independence - both yours and theirs - but you fear the independence, too.
I was hell on wheels those first few years of driving but I’ve been a slow-footed saint in recent decades. I don’t care much for paying speeding tickets and higher insurance rates, so the metal to the pedal has been downsized to lightweight fibers.
I expect more from my children. You know the routine - do as I say, not as I did. And I have a theory about teen drivers - boys are dangerous because they are reckless, while girls are vulnerable because they drive carelessly.
How should a parent react in that situation? I’m still trying to figure it out. My first instinct was to pray that everyone was OK, then yell when she returned home to tell us about the mini-accident, then rush out to see what damage was sustained. My fourth instinct was to calm down quickly and be glad that it was just that minor.
None of us wants our children to suffer a fender bender, but somewhere deep don’t we wish there is that one eye-opening, scary but unscathed encounter. Doesn’t that hopefully wake them up to the very real dangers of the road, maybe avoid something worse down the line?
Only active print or digital subscribers of the Tulsa World are allowed to post comments on stories posted to Tulsaworld.com. After you fill out the form below and click submit, your comment will be published instantly online along with your screen name.
By clicking "Submit" you are agreeing to our terms and conditions.
