random brain droppings

“Situational Awareness” is today’s lesson.

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It’s the first thing they teach in women’s self-protection classes: Situational Awareness. Be aware of where you are, what is around you, at all times.

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There is a corner near me, that I love. It is a 270º fixed-radius loop from the southbound boulevard to the eastbound freeway.

I love to hit this on-ramp at about 45 mph (that’s the speed limit on the boulevard so I am definitely, surely, never, above 45), then downshift twice from 5th to 3rd, lean into the turn, and push the limits of the tires and the suspension on my old-lady sports car.

My car is a classic late 50’s, early 60’s sports car, before everything had a 500hp V-8, back when sports cars were intended for timed rallies on the back roads of Europe and England. They were built to go zoom-zoom through corners on a country road, not for zero to sixty rubber burning testosterone fueled drag races. Of course, Ford ruined all that when they dropped a Shelby V-8 into the AC Cobra; but that’s a long, sad, story for another day.

That’s how I learned to drive, in the corners, not the straightaways. Downshift into the turn, find the line, push through.

When Lili’Koi passed, my broken heart could no longer bear climbing into the big 4 WD Off-Road SUV that gave us so many days of joy chasing rabbits and dancing with coyotes on the Mesa in Northern New Mexico. I traded the very practical, off-road gas-hog for a two-door, four cylinder, gas-sipping, corner hugging throwback to decades long gone.

Alas, it’s not 1965 any more. My spouse, Bonnie, manages the household finances – she does an excellent job. In order to protect our monthly safe-driver auto insurance discount, I am required to drive with the little snitch phone app constantly monitoring my driving habits.

Too much acceleration? Snitch.

Extreme braking? Snitch.

High speeds? Snitch.

And, oh my god, “high speed” is anything over 80! That’s ridiculous; when I learned to drive, “high speed” was pinning the speedometer on my mother’s Buick which stopped counting at 120 mph. Discount says “80” so that’s my new limit.

All of this, all these limits imposed imposed by modern technology, will help you understand my joy with this particular corner. If I do it right, there’s no ‘rapid acceleration’ into the corner because I am already be-bopping along on the boulevard at 45. There is no ‘extreme braking’ because the turn is part of the freeway on-ramp and I can come out of the turn accelerating to the freeway speed of 65.

As I downshift into 3rd, the G-forces ramp up and suddenly I’m 18 again and Life is an E-Ticket Ride!

Today was a normal day. Coffee. Morning news. Fresh fruit and yogurt. Brush my teeth, comb all three or four of my remaining hairs, then take the car to Costco for new tires.

I hit both green lights, turning onto the boulevard, past the westbound off-ramp, turn signal on, speed at 45, and zoom-zoom into the corner!

Reaching for the downshift paddle, I immediately realized my error. As noted, Situational Awareness is critical for survival, especially at my age. It wasn’t there! There was NO downshift paddle waiting below the flailing fingers on my left hand.

I had failed the Situational Awareness test for this day!

That’s because it is Bonnie’s Ford SUV that needs new tires today. Not the sports car. The Ford.

I was driving the Ford to Costco.

Not a Shelby Cobra with a V-8 and Mustang racing suspension. A 2014 Ford Escape.

I was driving the Ford to Costco.

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Maybe tomorrow I’ll do better.