driving lessons.

I'll always remember the first time I drove a car. It was 1978. It was an early-seventies version of the Cadillac Sedan DeVille. It was in Sheldon, Iowa, and I was on my Dad's Lap. We lived on the family farm outside of town, and after a visit to town, Dad had me pile onto his lap (no airbags, limited seatbelts. those were the days. the only thing between us and certain destruction was common sense and nearly eight thousand pounds of pure, raw, Detroit Iron). I steered and signalled, Dad gassed and braked. And we drove home together. An indelible happy memory, burned onto my psyche for as long as i'm coherent.

nearly thirty years later, I'm so very happy and proud to extend the potentiality of future memory. Hayden and I have been flaunting the law, flaunting modern common sense, laughing at the faces of those who drive by, and sharing a series of very special, indeed singular events between the two of us. We're driving together. Our favorite haunt is the open lot at Reser Stadium, which provides a quiet place for us to practice, sufficient obstacles, and many opportunities to use our blinkers, and look left and right.

Clutch in. shift into first gear. 1500 RPM on the tachometer. slowly let out the clutch out. pay close attention to where we're going. adjust the mirrors. clutch in. slowly brake. look left. look right. turn on the blinker. 1500 RPM. feather the clutch so it doesn't kill. move from one section of the lot to another. stay on the right side of the road. repeat.

speaking quietly, matter-of-fact; not getting excited *outwardly*, yet jumping for joy inside. he's doing it. he's doing it well. he's a nine-year-old boy, piloting a newer korean-issue five-speed manual.

park. shift into reverse, with the clutch in. same concepts, only we're going to move backwards. what's behind us? take a look in your mirrors. three-point turns. awareness of our surroundings. which section are we going to move to next? careful, aim away from the curbed islands. repeat.

the next step is working towards an open area where we can move out of first gear.

the boy is nine. and i'm so incredibly happy and proud to share space and soul with him.

good work, buddy. if you're interested, we'd love to send you off to a real driving school in France for a month or two in seven or eight years. and then you can coach us.



an entirely unrelated Buddhist ass-kick arrived for me today: i've been feeling a bit sorry for myself lately (a reverse exaggeration, i've been a real whiney bitch), and this is the cherry-on-top of the beautiful reconciliation i've just enjoyed.

"Hey you, expecting results without effort! So sensitive! So long-suffering! You, in the clutches of death, acting like an immortal! Hey sufferer, you are destroying yourself!"
-Santideva, Bodhicaryavatara