I live in a small town. We are not well known for much. We DO have the Fiddler's Convention which draws a few thousand people to our friendly community once a year to listen to the bluegrass, the country, the folk and the atmosphere of music on the campus of Athens State University.
Because the town is small, we are shocked when odd things occur. This isn't New York City where the odd is actually commonplace, nor is it L.A. where the odd is considered normal. This is Athens, where we set our watches back about 20 years, where the pace is deliberately slower by choice and inclination and where we believe ourselves to be safe.
But yesterday, I realized that danger is where you find it.
I had found a parking slot near the buggy return at Hometown Grocery. The intent was to get in, get out and get gone. Little did I know that my life was in danger from the second my foot hit the pavement.
As I was walking toward the store, I noticed the Knights of Columbus group hawking Tootsie Rolls for their fundraiser to help the disabled. I continued forward with the intent of telling them to keep the Tootsie Roll but take the donation. That's when fate intervened.
The dude in the car was between 90 and 9,000 and should NOT have been driving. NOT AT ALL. He didn't even look back or into his mirrors while he attempted to back out right over me as I was trying to walk into the store. For the record, I was paying attention. When I proceeded forward, NO CARS WERE MOVING... until HE decided to jack his Caddy into gear and leave his slot without so much as a backwards glance. He didn't even look back one single time when he hit me in my right leg with his bumper as I was walking behind him nor did he look back when I hit his trunk with my clipboard and coupons.
I was then that the lady from the Knights of Columbus shouted out "HEY!!! He's about to hit you!!" Yeah, what was your first clue?
He of the clueless driving aged population already DID hit me and he never even looked backwards, side to side or checked his mirrors. His gold trimmed Cadillac just cruised majestically on as if nothing had happened. Which to his mind, of course, didn't. Not a single thing. I hope I scratched his trunk's paint job with the clipboard and that it rusts clean through in the next rainstorm.
I scooped my beating heart up off the ground and kept walking into the store completely forgetting my donation to the disabled and absentmindedly wondering what it was that I was supposed to do in this store. Oh yeah. I was here to buy groceries. How silly of me! Almost murdered, but the groceries needed to be bought.
Why did that seem so strange now?
As I got my buggy and started the trek through the store, I pondered over the singular event. What would have happened had he actually driven over me? Would he have noticed the not inconsequential "bump" that would have been created when his Caddy ground me into the pavement? What if I had been killed while trying to go into Hometown to buy a rump roast for Sunday dinner? Would it be horrific or hilarious? What kind of News Courier coverage would there be? Would anyone attend the funeral or would the giggles of " it could only happen to HER!" prevent their attendance?
It's hard to gauge just how that would have all panned out since I didn't get killed by the old dude and no one was required to come up with an obituary that tenderly pronounced me better than sliced bread, which all of my true friends would know was a lie anyway.
SOME OLD PEOPLE SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED TO DRIVE!! At the very least, they should have to have a test for their dexterity performed on a regular basis to see just how they are functioning mentally and physically before they are licensed to drive a two ton machine that can kill people in the parking lot of the grocery store.
I realize that taking the keys from someone who is becoming unsafe behind the wheel is hard. I know firsthand. It's worse than hearing you have to have an enema and a quart of 'go lightly'. But for the life of me (and thank God I'm still alive!), I cannot understand why fear of the anger of an elderly person who is learning they are no longer able to drive themselves around trumps the safety of the OTHER people who are dodging, weaving and jumping curbs to avoid being hit by an elderly driver who should not be driving at all!
We complain a lot about teen drivers. They are young, inexperienced and inattentive.
But we need to concentrate a bit of our efforts of complaint towards the elderly drivers. They are old, slow reflexes, inattentive and cocksure of their abilities long after those abilities have jumped the fence never to return again.
Having been left on the sidelines for a good portion of my life through various injuries, surgeries and recoveries, I understand full well why I shouldn't have been behind the wheel during any of those times. I wasn't safe. Yet the elderly don't give a single thought to the fact that they can't see across the living room, are unable to read the newspaper without the highest magnification lens money can buy and are slower than molasses in January in their reflexes. They can drive because by God, they have a license.
Uh. No.
While I'm sure we are all (or mostly all) thankful I wasn't killed in Hometown's parking lot, I can't help but be in fear for the next time I am in a parking area. People of all ages are inattentive. When can I expect that inattention to catch up to me and bring me to the long, dirt nap?
For the record, my favorite color is blue, my favorite hymn is "Dear to the Heart of the Shepherd" and I hate sappy sermons that make people out to be better in death than life ever knew. So when you are planning my funeral from "grocery-cide" please consider those things.
God bless and happy shopping. Be sure and take your crash helmet, football protective gear and a big ol' whacking hockey stick. You never know when you might need to save yourself from some idiot behind the wheel.
