Ramblings of a legal alien

In the first Ramblings installment, I was whining about how strange life in the United States is; actually, that's pretty much all I've been doing since I got here. Anyway, you might recall that in that particular ramble I happened to mention something about driving. It doesn't matter if you don't remember, not really. But if "driving" doesn't even ring a slight bell, don't expect to do too well on the quiz at the end of the quarter.

That's right, there'll be a test at the end, seriously, and there will be fabulous prizes for the winners (I hope). So be sure to get up early on Tuesdays to get your copy of The Daily, read attentively, get your friends to test your "Ramblings knowledge," do whatever you have to do. Remember, fabulous prizes await some of you.

OK, back to the driving. Before I got carried away over the quiz, (I'm still serious about that, by the way), I was going to talk about driving. And now I will. Driving is one of those things that those of us who do it take very much for granted. We get up in the morning, jump in our vehicle of choice and just start driving. Simple, right? Wrong.

Remember those first tentative pushes on the gas pedal, those nerve-racking first ventures onto actual roads, with actual traffic? Remember how sweaty your palms were, how tightly you gripped the wheel; the permanently fixed, slightly-worried-and-on-edge look in the eyes of your instructor (whichever relative or friend you suckered into teaching you)? Remember all of that? Maybe you don't, perhaps you've been driving for a few years now and the fear and stress have been long forgotten, but I'm pretty sure most of you felt it at some point, even if you don't want to admit it.

Driving is the most dangerous activity most of us will ever do. The chances of being in an auto wreck are (insert very official and high statistic which I didn't bother to research here; but it's lots, trust me) higher than the chances of being involved in a plane crash, or pretty much any other catastrophe you can imagine. We know this (at least you do now), and yet we drive, or let other people drive us, every day. We'll accept a lift from someone we wouldn't share a cigarette or drink with for fear of catching hepatitis C. And yet the chances of getting hepatitis C are, I'm sure, vastly lower than crashing your car (unless of course the person driving has hepatitis C and you borrow their toothbrush to polish up before you get where you're going, in which case you'll probably get hepatitis C and crash the car, but not necessarily in that order).

The point is that driving is a weird and dangerous thing to do, but most of us get used to it; we enjoy it even. Now, as an exercise in frivolity, imagine taking everything you know about driving and turning it upside down. Everything.

Put yourself on the other side of the road, the other side of the car, turn right anytime becomes turn left anytime, the stick is near your left hand, the indicators are the other way around. Everything is backward. The world is upside down and you have to concentrate as hard as you can just to stay on the side of the road you should be on. You no longer take driving for granted. You have constant flashbacks to those early lessons and your dad screaming at you to watch where you're going while simultaneously stamping his foot on the floor of the passenger side where the break would be. The sweaty palms and intensely tight grip on the wheel come back with a vengeance, and your fondest wish is for the person in the passenger seat to notice your obvious distress and offer to take over, but, of course, she doesn't.

After awhile, things become more normal. You stop stepping in front of traffic, looking the wrong way. You learn to go to the opposite side of the road when you turn out of a car park. And then you start wondering if you'll have to do all of this again when you go home. It's at this point that you start investigating alternative transportation methods with a newfound dedication.

Happy driving.

Send comments, suggestions and abuse to apauling@ekit.com.