In a Pickle

All this talk of driving has brought back some memories.......that and the fact that quite a few of my friends have children about to get their drivers licenses. I know, I know.......I hardly look old enough to have friends with driving children.......it's all in the picklin'. I am remarkably well preserved due to a rigorous and well researched pickling process. It requires a great deal of commitment but you'll look great and have a damn good time in the process!!!! Perhaps I should package this system and peddle it to the masses in an infomercial featuring me and all of my equally well preserved friends at cocktail  hour. Sounds like an episode of "Cougar Talk". Hmmm. Yet another thing to consider. This thing is turning into a multi-headed beast what with the blog, the religion, the children's book series (I'll get to that.....still doing research and will fill you in when it's complete) and now the "Mollie Christie Pickling Process......Drink, Drink, Drink Your Way to a Younger You". Hmmm. So many ways to achieve world domination but so little time. But I once again digress. The driving. I wasn't always an excellent driver able to multi-task yet safely pilot a vehicle to its intended destination. I know. Hard to believe but 'tis true. Ask my dad. I got in not one but TWO accidents the very day I got my drivers license, which was on my birthday in 1983, I believe. I will freely admit that there is NO WAY I should have been driving a lawn mower at that point let alone a car. A freakin' BIKE was questionable. I'm not the world's most mature 42-year old, so you can imagine what I was like at 16. Nevertheless, I was behind the wheel and RARING to go. My best friend and I set out in my 1984 Subaru 4WD wagon. The official car of the US Ski Team! And we were on the high school ski team! Suh-weet!!!!! I don't think I got very far before I took out a mailbox and caused some very minor damage to the car in the process. I take my friend home and walk into my house, terrified to tell my dad, who was going to kill me, what I had done. He was actually somewhat calm, did not even bother to inspect the damage but did whip out the classifieds as he announced, "We are going to buy a piece of crap car for you to destroy until you can learn how to drive". I think there was also a well placed expletive in there somewhere. My dad and I are masters of the well placed expletive. It's a gift. He locates some 1974 Maverick for $150 and we head out of the house to go look at this beauty. Get to the driveway. The car is not where I left it. Uhhhh......I forgot to put the parking brake on and the shiny new Subaru had rolled down the hill and smashed into a tree, causing all kinds of damage. Needless to say, I did end up driving not just the Maverick (there was not enough Bondo in the world to make that thing whole) but what was dubbed the "Shitmobile" by my friends, who found the very idea of me driving a brown Chevette with rusted out floorboards amongst the funniest things they'd ever seen. Real funny. Hardy har, har. Before I eventually really DID learn to drive, I did some damage to my dad's Volvo as I was not just driving but leaning out of the window and yelling at some boys. Probably something along the lines of "Hey! Look at ME!" Didn't notice the stop sign until I ran it over. Oh and then I completely totaled my  mom's brand new Caprice Classic station wagon. I was driving down Milford Road (shout out to my homies!) and encountered a dust storm. I couldn't see! My instinct was not to stop but to speed up and get the hell out of it. What I did not account for was the old man who DID slow down. Oops. Strangely, I eventually did become a good driver. I'm pretty confident, surprisingly, given my early track record. Even my brother, who is notoriously stingy with the compliments declared me to be so. The moral of the story is that some kids are mature enough to drive at 16. I was not. Obviously. Alrighty then.......I'm out. Going to work on perfecting the Pickling Process. 

(c) 2010
Copyright (c) by Mollie Christie, 2010 all rights reserved.