Mailbox 1, Teenage Driver 0

In my continuing quest to be a good human, I agreed to take Mary and Lee's 15 year old out driving.  I'm trying to be a positive role model in her life and God Knows, I need all the help doing so that I can get.

When it became apparent that she'd get her drivers' permit, I agreed to take her out driving.  I told her that we could go sometime after school and that we'd tool around until she got the hang of it. She was, of course, totally excited.

As was I.  After all, I have very fond memories of my cousin T teaching me how to drive in the Federal Penitentiary Cemetery in Terre Haute.  (yes, you read all that completely right -- not likely I was gonna kill anyone there)

I pick her up at 5.  She is ready to go, quite excited for her big day of driving.  We get in the car, she gets herself and the car adjusted properly and Lee's last words to us are: "are you sure you don't want a helmet?"

Nice jinx, Lee.

We start out back behind their house, in a neighborhood close by.  It is going relatively well with the normal first time driver stuff of too wide of turns, etc.  We are having a good drive, I'm trying to instruct her without driving her completely crazy.  Then we turn on the last street before we head out of the neighborhood.  We meet her personal Waterloo: A School Bus.

Mind you, the street is like 1.75 lanes wide, like many residential streets.  Yes, an engineer would probably tell you it is two lanes wide, but two lanes for say a Smart Car rather than a School Bus or two.  She sees the school bus coming and panics. 

Scoots all the way to the edge of the road and WHAM!  My side mirror and the mailbox it hit are obliterated.

I shout: "Stop The Car!!!" and she does, pulling over and I get out of the car to retrieve my mirror and inspect the damage.  She is nervous now, scared I'll yell at her, while I'm just freaking stunned.  I explain to her that we need to apologize to the guy with the mailbox.

We do, we offer to buy a new mailbox and then we get back in the car, her driving. 

Why?  Because I don't want her to be scared out of her mind driving.  We go to Lowe's, she buys a mailbox and we return to the scene of the crime.  She gives him his new mailbox and apologizes again.  We then head down the road to practice parking. 

After getting whiplash for twenty minutes, I call off the exercise and we head to her house.  She tells Lee and he is incredulous.  Thinks we are kidding.  When he walks outside, it is clear we are not kidding.  The crying commences and we head back inside. 

Lee asks me if I want a beer.  I tell him I want a case ...

And later that night, back at home, I make the Tallest, Stiffest Gin and Tonic known to mankind.  And fall into a restless slumber.

The Rules of the Road (according to Athena)

Hello gang ... it was a God Awful ride back from Chicago yesterday afternoon/evening and one I cannot possibly relive again without a stroke. I saw so many instances of bad driving that my road rage went from just 'come on' to 'fuck you motherfucker' inside of twenty miles. Nearly 5 (!) hours later I was back in Indy.

Road Rules.

1) The far left hand lane is for passing. If you are not actively passing anyone, get over.

2) There are no designated pace cars in highway driving. If people driving over the speed limit bother you, I recommend becoming Amish and buying a horse or two. That pace of life better serves your needs (and mine).

3) Truck drivers, this one is especially for you. I know that you *want* to pass each other on the highway. Don't. You have precious little in the way of acceleration, take forever to do it and generally make a whole bunch of people wait. I've heard that trucks passing each other on the highway is comparable to old people having sex: too slow, takes a while to get to speed and no one wants to watch it. All True.

4) If you choose to ignore rule 1, be prepared to hear me shout something obscene at your car and greet you with my universally-applied one finger salute. I may also shout other obscenities if you look at me completely dumbstruck and/or irritated. Get a clue, get in the right lane. Thanks.

5) Brake tapping in heavy traffic is both unnecessary and uncalled for. Penalty: one severed foot.

Thank you.

Interesting signs on the way to/from Chicago though.

One the way into Chicago, on I-65 "Jesus is Real"
Opposite side of sign, going into Indiana: "Hell is Real"

Guess those folks are gonna get you to believe in *something*.

On I-94, around Hammond, there was a sign for Exotic Meats. It had an address, phone number and directions ... and a picture of a large bear on it. I understood all that. The part I did not understand about the sign was the picture of the elderly Chinaman on the other side of the sign. I am concerned that they are selling both bear meat and old Chinaman flesh in the same place and that creeps me out. Soylent Green, I say. *ew*