When I told people I was taking driving lessons the typical response was that I didn’t need them. Several people volunteered to teach me. I always replied that I felt like I could benefit from some professional instruction. There were two major reasons I felt this way.

First, the last time I tried to learn to drive, I decided I would rather adopt a lifestyle I knew was against the grain of prevailing American (even Portlander) standards to the point of freakishness. That would be incredibly inconvenient and socially awkward, if not crippling. I don’t travel, I don’t camp, my life is limited really to the city center of Portland. It wasn’t until I decided to get my license that I fully considered the effects of not having one. Do I really not camp because there’s no A/C? Or is it because not sharing in long trip driving duties would be an imposition? I know I’ve made long walks and longer bus rides because I didn’t want to put someone out. All of this was because my last time practicing driving FUCKING. SUCKED. ASS.

This isn’t as Freudian as it sounds, it’s my mother’s fault. She was the one I did most of my practice with and the woman is a stress case. Really, her hobbies are reading and freaking the fuck out. I’ve seen her break down sobbing at being startled. The woman’s high strung. That was my driving instructor. No, I didn’t take driver’s ed. Yes, that was an error. It’s on the “If I knew then…” list.

Second: teaching is a skill. To really teach someone a thing, you have to know the thing AND how to teach. If you want to learn something complex you need a teacher (or a long apprenticeship, but even that comes with intruction).

So, the lesson. It went pretty smoothly. We practiced in a church parking lot. The car had a sensitive throttle and a high idle, and the lot was sloped. Once I got used to that, smooth sailing. Then we went into the neighborhood.

I’d like to thank all the people I’ve rode shotgun with repeatedly, this is mainly Mom and Gloom. You got some good driving habits that I picked up on. The thousands of miles rolling side streets in Lents and Montavilla particularly helped. I already knew about how to deal with oncoming traffic and parked cars, kids crossing, stuff like that. Even the Domino’s driver that hit Mom’s car made me learn a LOT about uncontrolled intersections (although that was a bit fresh in the memory last time I tried this).

Also, my bike helped a ton. Particularly for alertness in traffic and practical knowledge of traffic laws. I had been worried I’d rely too much on my peripheral vision, but I found myself leaning in my seat to see around obstacles. That’s from the bike (although I can’t stand up in a car. You drivers don’t realize how much you miss stuck in that coffin). Honestly, if I hadn’t pedalled so much in the last few years, I don’t think I’d be ready for this.

Anyway, the instructor said I should practice three times before I take my next lesson. So if anyone has an automatic and a quiet neighborhood, I’ll buy lunch.

And just for the record: I am NOT designated driver material. Gloom might be an exception to that. Too bad he’s got a stick.