On Not Driving

Inspired by Longrider’s entry about his time as a driving instructor, I thought I’d make a driving related entry of my own.

Or, rather, an entry about NOT driving.

My father had two siblings, a brother and a sister, who have never driven. Neither have ever lived in an urban area, where public transportation is plentiful, where not driving would not be terribly unusual or maladaptive. Both have lived their entire lives in a rural area, where driving is an absolute must unless you want to spend a lot of time waiting for others to come pick you up or be stranded at home.

My father never could understand how his siblings could be content being so dependent on others to get around. He always wondered if he was the adopted child, as his outlook and his life was totally different from theirs. My Dad loved to drive and always had the nicest car he could afford. When I was a child, we’d take road trips all over the country during the summer, and he’d never let anyone else take the wheel. So, it was totally foreign to him to have two siblings completely uninterested in driving.

My sister didn’t drive for many years. Though she is ten years my senior, I actually got my driver’s license before she did. She’d taken driver’s ed in high school, but had gotten off on the wrong foot and had developed a complex about driving. She just gave up trying to learn. Finally, when she was thirty, she got herself together and got her license. When I asked her what had prompted her to do so, she told me that she’d gotten sick and tired of waiting around for people to come pick her up and having to come and go at other people’s convenience.

As for me, I couldn’t wait to be old enough to drive and I got my license at the earliest opportunity. Like my father, I’ve always driven the nicest car I could afford, and I prefer being the driver to being a passenger. Unlike him, I hate long road trips; more than two hours in a car and I begin to get antsy.

Thoughts?