The Little Old Lady from Pasadena

Every Friday night after we wrap up our Improv shows, many of the members of the Improvables go out to eat together at the local Dee's restaurant in Bountiful. It is has become our unofficial local hangout. We're now on a first-name basis with most of the waiters/waitresses there, and many of us can order "the usual" and they'll know what we mean by it.

Well anyway, as we drove over to Dee's last week, one of my friends in the troupe followed behind me in his car along Main Street. As we arrived at our destination, he proceeded to inform me of his observation that I "drive like a grandma."

I didn't know whether to laugh or to kick him in the face. I ended up doing neither, and fortunately the subject of my driving did not come up again the rest of the evening.

Over the past week, I have reflected on my friend's comment and wondered exactly what he meant by it. What does my driving have in common with a grandma's? I have wondered. I can see over the steering wheel with ease. I don't just pull out in front of other cars whenever I feel like it but check my mirrors and blinds spots first. And I don't drive a Cadillac.

The answer was clear: Apparently, I "drive like a grandma" because I don't drive as fast as other people think that I should.

The truth is, I usually drive about 5 MPH over the speed limit wherever I go. In today's can't-get-there-fast-enough society, however, this is the equivalent of grandmother.

I don't understand why people are always in such a hurry to go places, no matter how much time they give themselves to get to their intended destinations. People who are otherwise law-abiding, honest, friendly, temple recommend-carrying people will intentionally speed and make all sorts of zig-zag patterns all over the road - except for, of course, when police cars are in the area.

Some time ago, I was in the passenger seat of a car driven by a different friend of mine. I squirmed and winced uncomfortably in my seat as he proceeded to drive right up the tailpipe of nearly every car that crossed his path in the fast lane, sometimes exceeding speeds of 85 and 90 MPH on the freeway. To try to take my mind off of the several near-death experiences I feared I was facing, I engaged my friend in a conversation about, well, driving. He mentioned to me that he had received 16 tickets for speeding and that he had come close to losing his driver's license on more than one occasion due to all of the points he had racked up.

I don't pretend to know everything about driving, but one thing I know for sure: I always try to obey all traffic laws, use my turn signal when I should, be a courteous driver, and never exceed the speed limit by 5 MPH, whether or not I think the cops are watching me. As a result, I have never once been pulled over by a policeman, let alone have I been issued a ticket.

If that's what "driving like a grandma" leads to, then it's good enough for me.