A Driving Daze Rant

Written Tuesday and posted Wednesday--remember, I'm on dial-up!

Every time we visit Mobile I’m reminded of the things I have forgotten. One of the main things is driving. Cynthia is constantly patting me on the knee, reminding me, “Remember where we are.” It isn’t that folks here can’t drive; they obviously can and do. It is just that the rules are different. The same is true in the Chicago area, where you must observe one set of rule of “in city” driving and quite another for driving in the burbs. But that’ll have to wait.

One of the first things you notice is that only one in, say five, use turn signals. I sense that I stick out like a sore thumb every time I make a lane change! Our rental car (it was cheaper to fly down and rent a car than to drive!) has Wisconsin plates, so I figure folks are saying, “Look at dem nuts from up nauth!” That hurts, since Cynthia is still an Alabama girl through and through—I’m a little less so, but it still hurts!

Then there are those myriads of drivers talking on cell phones (with one hand), smoking a cigarette (with one hand) and handling the stirring wheel with two fingers (of the other hand). I know that’s too many hands. But I sat in the Wal Mart parking lot this morning watching it happen over and over! But that’s another rule of thumb in many communities: how far you live from Wal Mart is a sign of how close you live to civilization.

I’m also adjusting to the fact that the Yield sign at the entrance ramp of a highway is considered to be a Stop sign. It really makes things interesting when you’re in a Merge Lane—especially getting on either of the two Interstate Highways (I-65 & I-10) that crisscross Mobile.

At night, I had forgotten how interesting it is to drive in the dark. Almost everywhere we go, the only light that lightens the road ahead is from your car’s headlights. Admittedly, we are staying in a remote area. But it seems true even when we are in town. The upside is that the sky is filled with stars—I know it always is, but in a large metro area they are blanked out by the reflected city light. By the way, this is an additional reason for slower driving speeds.

Another thing to remember is that no one is really in that big of a hurry, anyway. Oh, occasionally someone whizzes by, but generally it is more laid back. It is not a cause of any alarm when someone stops in the road to talk to someone on the roadside or in another vehicle. It doesn’t happen much on the “main roads” (translate that highways) but its already happened to me three times today on the “side roads” (translate that everything else). By tomorrow I’ll have settled in enough for this not to annoy me; for the moment I’m still in “lets get going” mode. I don’t pray for patience, since “tribulation works patience” (Rom. 5) and I don’t need anymore “tribalation” at the moment. So, I simply remind myself that “patience works experience” and enjoy the opportunity to bring grace to life!

One of our nephews will be graduating from the Mobile Police Academy on Friday. Talking to him last evening, I inquired as to where he would be assigned. Seems he’ll start out in traffic in the downtown area. I started to ask him about some of this but was interrupted by a call to supper. That’s one of the other things I’m reminded about: they really know how to put on the feedbag down here. I’ll be on a diet for three weeks trying to get back into my already-too-large clothes. It really isn’t so much about food, although it is abundant and good; its really about family. As I watch Cynthia and her sisters rebond back together its almost like they never left home. Ann has her first grandson now and is the typical ecstatic grandma. Everyone dotes over the little guy—Cynthia had already been shopping for him before we met him the first time! Grandchildren are God’s gift to you for not killing your own kids—and everyone celebrates them.

And all this reminds me of the value of family—extended family. Great grand parents, grand parents, moms and dads, sisters and brothers, nephews and nieces, cousins and in-laws all in one house again. Why? Another wedding! Life goes on--shared together. And that’s not a regional value.

Oh, by the way: I got a hair cut today in a real barbershop. I took Cynthia’s dad and we got our “wedding cut.” I haven’t been in a barber chair in almost three decades—Cynthia cuts my hair. But that’s another story for another time. Got to go—its supper time again!

Maranatha!