I needed to go to Walmart yesterday and I headed out to the truck. In the driveway I noticed a stranger in shorts, sneakers and a T-Shirt with the word, BREATHE, across the front. He was trim and fit.
“I am Buddha,” he said, smiling.
I needed to go to Walmart yesterday and I headed out to the truck. In the driveway I noticed a stranger in shorts, sneakers and a T-Shirt with the word, BREATHE, across the front. He was trim and fit.
“I am Buddha,” he said, smiling.
In my mid sixties I let a friend talk me into motorcycling, which I had not done since my twenties. I bought a used Honda Nighthawk and got a driving permit from the Georgia Department of Driver Services. We rode around the area for a couple of months, and it seemed as if the old handling skills and road savvy were coming back. So I scheduled and took the necessary driving test, and I thoroughly flunked it.
Under the watchful eye of a test administrator, applicants must ride a set of maneuvers on a closed, tightly laid out course. Limping home with a wounded ego, I had to relate the failure to my family and friends, and more importantly, I had to devise a strategy to overcome the defeat.
A guest post by E. Donnelly
An article from 2012 came to mind recently: a 100-year-old driver hit 11 people in Los Angeles. As I read through the details again it made me cringe as I have an elderly father and his driving is worrisome. These days, my dad lives with my wife and me (Mom died some time ago), and is well into his senior years. His eyesight is not what it used to be. His reflexes are slower.
It fills me with dread to think of what might happen if he ever got into a car crash. But being the old block of which I am a chip, he is adamant. He calls it “payback” for all the times I snuck the car out in my teenage years (and did some damage, too). All of this got me thinking. Should there be an upper age limit on driving? More importantly, can there come a time when old people just know that they have to let go? Continue reading