What's to Miss? By Grandpa Jim

Off and on, people will ask if I miss driving? Maybe it is because I’ve done without for eight months, or maybe there is something about starting a new year, I don’t know. I just know that I can answer, “Mostly no, but sometimes yes.”

I don’t miss the traffic, that’s for sure. Nor those millions of “antiques” on the road…you know…those cars manufactured before the invention called turn signals? Nor the road “ragers” who keep sending us the same old message, “I didn’t have my breakfast this morning and I’m taking it out on everybody who’s out here.”

Nor do I miss the stress that goes with the speeding, the recklessness, and the danger that accompanies them.

I traded in my license for an ID card on the 66th anniversary of getting it. I figure that we’ve driven over a million miles due to a stretch of about 15 years when we drove to California two, and sometimes three times a year, and to Philadelphia, also two or three times those same years. It was in the early 1970’s to mid-1980’s, when we averaged over 30,000 miles per year.

I do miss some of the freedom, of course. I can’t really complain, because son-in-law Gary and/or daughter Nancy are always willing to meet our needs. It’s just that being dependent takes some getting used-to.

I once loved to drive. (We had a Packard in the 1950’s that was a dream to drive and to ride in. Then there was a 1970’ish Chrysler Cordoba that was just as smooth.) My first car was a 1930 Marmon-Roosevelt, “straight eight,” with rumble seat. Brother Bud traded it to Dad and me for a bus ticket home when he couldn’t find a tire that would fit. I was a junior in high school and one of only a few with a car, because of rationing. (I had a brief spell of popularity because of that rumble seat.)

Finally, I sort of miss our sweet little 2006 Chevy HHR whenever I see one on the road (especially if it is silver---and has a luggage rack on it.)

Or should I start answering, “Mostly yes, but sometimes no?”