"The Key Issue"

In a few days, my current California Driver’s License will expire, and I am not trying to renew it.

I had a little help making that decision.  Two failed eye tests at the Department of Motor Vehicles – although I passed twice at my ophthalmologist’s office, whose eye chart I mastered with less anxiety-filled eyes – one failed driving test – though I absolutely “killed” on the written test – and a professional “assessment”, indicating measurable difficulty with “divided attention” and “selective attention”, meaning I had trouble reacting to two things at the same time – for which there is no hyphenated rejoinder.  The computerized “print-out” read, “And he’s still driving?”

On top of these telltale hints that driving’s no longer for me, during the past four weeks, my ’92 Lexus has gone totally “dead” in the middle of traffic on three different occasions, separated by visits to the dealership’s Service Department, where I was assured they had fixed things, though they demonstrably had not.

Even my car was saying, “That’s it.”

I have previously mentioned that, after failing twice earlier, I had passed my original driving test on Canadian network television – a documentary crew chronicled my triumphant event – and I was never sure if the “Examiner” was simply being a good sport.

Since then, I have driven, responsibly and without serious incident, for 47 years.  I had a Mazda for six years (until it blew up on Hollywood Boulevard), a Peugeot “Diesel” for six years (during the “gas shortage” when the lines for “diesel” were shorter), a “fire-engine red” Saab for eight years, and, of course, my Lexus SC-400 (which I bought after receiving a career-high contract from Universal) for twenty-seven years.

Now I have Lyft.

There are two ways of looking at this transportational transition.

One:  No more struggling through traffic, searching for parking spaces, regular “tune-ups” and expensive “body work” repairs, due to a series of scrapes I do not recall causing, and attribute exclusively to “Valet Parking.”

Most importantly, I think of unwitting pedestrians, returning happily to their loved ones, when, if I was still driving, who knows?

On the other hand, there goes independence.  The convenience of dropping things off and picking things up.  The personal control over always being on time.  The opportunity to slip behind the wheel, and take the car out for a spin.

Wait.  I have never done that.

How do I respond to not driving?

I think the first way, and I feel the second.

Oh well.

I am no longer a motorist.

But those Lyft drivers have some pretty good stories.

Remember the one where the guy told me his Dad dressed him up as an Indian, and tried to sell him to strangers?

Where there’s that, I am thinking there’s more.