I was running some errands the other day, driving from place to place to take care of whatever I needed done, when something occurred that made me think. (Not that I wasn’t already thinking, but you know what I mean.)
It actually started when I tried to park near a store that had a zillion empty handicapped parking spots, but the nearest regular one was a long hike. I sometimes have a hitch in my walk — remember Walter Brennan? — but I won’t park in a handicapped spot, and my gimpy gait certainly doesn’t rise to the level of qualifying me for a special parking tag, so I hoofed it and grumbled.
But the whole thing got me to pondering geezers and driving. We all know examples of elderly drivers hanging on to their steering wheel way past all good sense — often with tragic results — and yet, it’s not a simple situation. After all, those of us who live in remote suburban or rural areas can’t fall back on taxis or buses, so it’s understandable that we’d be stubborn about giving up our wheels.
In my case, I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it — and I’ll probably be on a bicycle.
“Wheel Hoss” — The Lilly Brothers
Geezer Music Club 