I have dreaded this day ever since she got her driver’s permit. It’s one thing to let your daughter drive slowly around the neighborhood with her dad in the passenger seat repeating, “Slow. Slow. SLOW!!!” It’s another to see her proudly displaying her license and imploring me to let her drive somewhere, anywhere, by herself.
I know she’s heard the warnings about texting while driving, and she’s seen the graphic movies and YouTube clips about the potential for disaster should she ever succumb to temptation in the car. But did her instructors cover EVERYTHING? I’m sure they did not. So, firstborn daughter, here is some advice from your dear old dad. Please read it over carefully before you shift into reverse and pull into our nation’s terrifying roadways:
Even though you are allowed to take my car out for short trips, driving it to our curb to get the mail does not constitute a “trip.”
If you ever see smoke wafting from beneath the hood, pull over and call me immediately. I will be right there, and together we will stare at the smoldering engine and agree that neither of us has any idea what to do.
All jokes aside, I doubt you’ve learned much about maintaining a vehicle. Occasionally, you should pop the hood and check fluid levels.
The previous sentence was completely foreign to you, wasn’t it? Particularly the phrase, “pop the hood.”
Despite what the label affixed to the gas cap says, never fill the car with premium gas. If the car stalls, a tow truck will still cost less than a tankful of unleaded premium.
Speaking of fuel costs, please take at least one high school class that will help you design an efficient, fuel-free automobile. I’m not sure what class that would be, but it’s definitely not U.S. Geography, which just introduces you to exotic locations that will cost a fortune to drive to.
When driving my car, please remove all your trash once you exit the vehicle. I do not want your trash to get mixed up with my trash.
The radio will be tuned to one of two stations while you drive: National Public Radio or any frequency broadcasting religious sermons. I am not interested in starting the vehicle and having my eardrums blasted to smithereens by a band named Scum Maggots.
Incidentally, if Scum Maggots is performing a concert nearby, and you have a ticket, you will take public transportation. Any concert you drive to will include your dad as a passenger. Michael Buble is coming to our hometown in a few months. Interested?
Please program the following locations into the GPS: The grocery store, the drugstore and wherever your little sister needs to go.
Occasionally, I will let you drive my car to school. However, you are required to drive directly behind a school bus, which will serve as a constant reminder of transportation alternatives should you ever choose to return the car in anything other than its original state.
If you have a chance this summer, open the freezer and spend a few minutes chiseling ice off the interior walls with a screwdriver. You will be better prepared come January when you will be doing the same thing to the car’s windshield.
If a teenage boy is ever in the vehicle, you may only take him to the following locations: church. If there are ever two teenage boys inside, the car better be parked in the driveway while all three of you listen to National Public Radio.
Finally, if these rules sound extreme, please remember that self-driving automobiles will be the norm in about 10 years. Enjoy this small window of opportunity.
Now, buckle up and be safe. Your little sister is waiting.
COPYRIGHT © 2013 GREG SCHWEM DISTRIBUTED BY TRIBUNE MEDIA SERVICES, INC.
