On the road again

Last Saturday, I got behind the wheel of a car for the first time in over two years. Part covid, part I just don't have all that much need to drive anywhere. I walk. Take the T. Use other public transpo. Uber. I hitch a ride with a car-person who's going my way. 

I've only owned three cars in my entire life. (I'm un-American thatway.) And it's been 14 years since I bid farewell to what will likely be my last car ever: a bright blue New Beetle that I very much enjoyed, right down to the fake daisy in its vase. 

Anyway, on Saturday, I used a Zipcar to get out to Central Mass for lunch with some grammar school friends. Although we skipped a year for covid, three of us have gotten together regularly for the past decade. On Saturday, our little group was augmented by my friend Rosemary's younger sister (by one year) and my friend Susan's older sister (by one year). 

We laughed a lot abut buying pagan babies, about crazy nuns, about the time Gunga N carved his initials in his arm and filled it in with ink, about the time John R hayfever sneezed while the class was saying the Rosary and his long strands of runny snot draped over everyone and everything within a six foot radius. (This may have been, we decided, Ground Zero for the concept of social distancing.)

We also talked about sadder matters. When we were all quite little - the core three were seven - a little girl visiting her grandparents was climbing a tree in their backyard, slipped and impaled herself and died. The grandparents' home was next door to Rosemary's, so she and her sister had a grim front row seat. Those of us who lived a couple of blocks away - me, Susan, Sue's sister Mary Ann, my sister Kath, our friend Elaine - walked over on a Sunday afternoon, pushing our doll buggies, to gape at the tree. And shudder at the thought of a little girl our age who'd died such a gruesome death.

Mostly, though, the talk was given over to more pleasant shared memories and updates. 

It was worth the drive. 

And it was while I was heading out the Mass Pike that I realized how much I actually enjoy driving. It's cars that present the problem.

Saturday's Zipcar was pretty straightforward. Just two teeny tiny issues. 

One, I couldn't figure out how to adjust the side mirrors. Nothing obvious in that automotive user interface, that's for sure. Fortunately, the passenger side mirror was fine as is, and I just needed to tilt my head a little to make use of the driver-side mirror.

I couldn't find the gas tank release, either. This turned out not to be a big deal. You need to fill 'er up if the gas gets below 1/4 of a tank, but when I returned it it was still above half. I do prefer to be a good Zipcar zipper and generally stop to fill the car whenever I take one out. I had plenty of time and would have been happy to top the tank off. Alas, the release was nowhere in sight. Sure, I could have gone to the google to figure it out, but that's a drag.

I don't see why car interfaces aren't more universal in design.

Which led me to my second mini-epiphany. With a nod to Linus Van Pelt, I realized that I love to drive; it's cars I can't stand. 

Every time I get behind the wheel, there's always a certain frisson. Not quite up to the level of existential dread. More like casual anxiety. Still...

Why aren't all headlight controls in the same place? Windshield wipers? Defrosters? Mirror adjusters? Gas tank releases? 

Different does not necessarily equate to better. Harrumph. 

And why don't the shifts all work the same? 

The last time I had tried to use Zipcar, they upgraded me to some fancy-arse Mercedes. This was a couple of years ago. I can't remember the peculiarities, but figuring out how to put the car in reverse wasn't all the intuitive. I gave up.

The year before, in renting a car to get myself to a wedding in the Catskills, the first car Avis gave me had some goofy gear shift on a disk that you had to rotate. Shades of the push-button automatics of the early 60's - an "improvement" that never quite took hold. For the obvious reason that people were perfectly happy with four on the floor or three on the tree. Anyway, no thanks. I made them get me something more normal.

And years ago, after I resigned from membership in the car owners club, but when everyone I knew was still driving a manual, I borrowed my brother's car. He parked in front of my house, handed me the keys, and took off. I knew how to drive a manual. All three of my cars were stick sfhits. But I couldn't figure out for the life of me how to get the car into reverse, an essential gear for getting yourself out of a tight parallel-parked parking space.

Anyway, I tried to hail some passersby for help. Americans were useless: most didn't know how to operate a manual. Then I managed to ask a couple of Irish tourists. Turns out, they had the wrong-side version of the same car. The mister hopped right in and showed me how. Ah, to get into reverse you have to move the gear shift forward. Makes sense. Sure.

I know that once you get used to how your very own car operates, once you figure where everything is, it's just fine. It's being an occasional car borrower/renter/zipper that sucks. No two alike!

Mostly, before I take off, I make sure I know how to work the most important features: lights, wipers. But each new borrow/rent/zip is unique. It's own experience. I love to drive; it's cars that I can't stand.

From the fleet they have parked in the Common Garage, which is where I pick up my Zipcars, it's pretty apparent that Zipcar is moving towards EVs. Which I think is great. I just haven't summoned up the will to step up to this next challenge to my episodic car driving. 

I know I'll have to at some point.

Then, blessedly, this too will pass and we'll all be buzzing around in autonomous vehicles. 

Sure, I'll miss the fun of driving. But I also love just plain riding. And there'll be fewer worries about how it operates. At most, I'll have to voice activate things: Lights! Wipers! Defroster! Open sesame, driver's side window! Radio now!

Until then, I'll just have to learn to live with learning to live with the intricacies of all sorts of different cars. Not something I look forward to, but the price I'll have to pay to get on the road again.