By Charles P. Eberson
Senior Moments
My wife and I have been driving together for more than 45 years; that includes two cross-country trips and numerous other drives ranging from Maine to Key West.
The polite way to describe our driving styles is that they differ. I would say that my style is more of a technical, while hers is more emotional in nature.
I admit to driving a little too fast on local trips around our Atlantic County area because I suffer from what my wife calls, “get thereitis.” I also feel that on roads where the speed limit is 70 mph, 75-78 is optimum, even though drivers are passing me like I am coasting along, many of them texting on their mobile phones.
My wife accuses me of being a bad passenger. Guilty as charged.
All things considered, she is a good driver and on long trips, gives me the rest I need before getting back behind the wheel.
Many of you are familiar with I-95 around Philly and know that it demands your full attention. But I-95 in southern Florida is rated as one of the most dangerous roads in the country, and we have had the occasion to drive on it a few times a year.
Recently, while I was resting my eyes in the passenger seat, I felt a little more buffeting of our vehicle than usual. I glanced over at the speedometer and saw that it read 90 mph.
I registered my dismay and my wife let loose with a tirade of how a big pickup truck was right on her bumper trying to pass her.
I told her that he was not trying to pass, he was drafting like a NASCAR racer; let him go. She firmly answered, “You don’t see what’s happening behind me. I have to speed up to get over!”
A brief discussion ensued on our individual driving histories. My wife reminded me, “Who dented the tailgate while backing into the stone wall in Rockport, Massachusetts? Who ran over the spigot in the North Dakota campground? Who backed over a boulder in Grand Teton National Park?” In my defense, the backup camera did not pick up the boulder.
My weak reply was, “At least it wouldn’t require a Medevac helicopter to pick us up on I-95.” To her point though, I have pulled some sketchy maneuvers, to which she would say, “How
would you feel if I did that?”
Even she admits to plunging into a highway exit too fast while exclaiming, “Comin’ in hot!” while I braced against the floorboards doing my Kegel exercises and she emitted a nervous laugh.
On one trip up our favorite I-95 section in Virgina, a compact car speeding by us in the left lane, drove over a full size semi truck tire, sending the tire careening right in front of our vehicle. My wife was driving while I just about pushed my feet through the floorboard.
She could have jerked the car to the right or left, which may have been disastrous, but she coolly, and I might add apologetically, maneuvered our vehicle right over the tire. We felt the tire run the complete length of the car with no serious consequences except for my leg cramps. I really can’t be sure if I would have done as well. Again, nervous laughter ensued.
Since hopefully there will be many more highway miles for us to navigate together, each with our own driving quirks and criticisms, in the end, as long as we continue to arrive safe and are still speaking with each other, the road awaits us.
As a footnote, our auto service technician inquired as to why our front alignment was so off and where the little pieces of tire came from.
Charles Eberson has been in the newspaper business for over 25 years. He has worked as a writer, advertising executive, circulation manager and photographer. His photography can be viewed at charles-eberson.fineartamerica.com
