May We All Never Get Old

I try very hard to be kind and charitable. Okay, not that hard, but I'd really like to be that way and not very judgmental. Be kind to kids, dogs, old people... that kind of thing.

However, the subject of old people is a sore spot for me. As many of you know, TheCondoThatRummyBoughtWithTheKitchenThatSaddamBuilt lives in a building that can often double as a geriatric center. Now this is a good thing when I'm blasting music at midnight or engaging in other noise-making activities at other times, but when it comes to the parking lot, it's unbearable.

This afternoon, as I was returning home from getting new shoes for the car (and I'm very jealous, as the car's new shoes cost more than any I own, although I guess when the car gets four and I only get two it's fair enough), I get ready to pull into the entrance way to my building. In order to get into the indoor, underground resident parking you have to pull up to a card reader device. Now, I will be the first to admit it's a little tight, but it's very doable. So I notice there's a car somewhat near the reader, but about three feet too far back. Incrementally, over about five minutes, this car -- a very large shiny new Coupe deVille with handicapped plates -- inches its way up to the reader. A little hand comes out of the window, and takes about a minute to insert the card into the reader. The garage door goes up, and this car now takes about five more minutes to inch up the ten feet to get through the garage door. Finally the door comes down again so I can move up and insert my card. The door opens, and CdV is contemplating the first turn down the row towards the parking spaces (our garage isn't really wide enough for two way traffic, so it becomes a snake-line when several cars are trying to enter or exit).

So I spend about ten minutes following this CdV around the single circuit around the garage until I can get to my space. Now, I have to say that this little figure (I can't quite figure out if it's male or female at this point, as the top of the head barely doesn't quite make it over the top of the steering wheel) is VERY polite, as at every turn around the one way loop, it signals that it's turning the next bend (and it's cool, as the CdV has turn signals not only on the rear of the car, but also on the sideview mirrors). Finally, the car goes past my space, so I can turn in.

After I park, I start walking towards the elevator. I see the CdV, driven by a little old man, trying to back into its space, which we had ALREADY passed. This guy decided to drive around the whole garage instead of pulling directly into his space, which is at the bottom of the first turn. Because the guy was tring to back into this space at three inches per hour, the line of cars waiting to get past him was getting longer and longer. I think the guy is still down there parking. Now, I've seen this couple get out of a car there before, and if you think it's long for them to drive in, you should see them try to walk the 15 feet to the door into the building.

Now, I have every respect for this couple -- who are probably quite sweet and nice, and look like they're in their late 80s at a minimum -- and their ability to live on their own. However, I do have a pet peeve about people who assert their right to drive when it's very, very clear that they shouldn't anymore. I can only imagine how difficult it would be to have to give up the car keys, but it's NOT JUST ABOUT YOU. I'm somewhat of a libertarian in that I don't really get all bent out of shape about people doing their own thing, but if your own thing has the potential to get some innocent person killed because you are not competent to do it, I get really, really angry. It's the height of arrogance and really nothing but contempt for your fellow travellers here on Planet Earth. Why are you more important than the rest of us?

And before you think that I'm off on old people, the worst offender of this driving problem is a woman I used to work with. She's got macular degeneration, which is an awful thing. She's legally blind. However, her family has a doctor friend who signs off that she can see well enough to drive. And drive she does. And because she can barely see, her solution is to do it as fast as possible. One of these days she's going to get into a horrible accident, and I no longer care if she dies. But if she survives, I'll be the first to testify against her at the trial for the person she killed.

We all have to admit to our limitations. It's not pretty, it's not pleasant, but for Pete's sake, if you can't see or react well enough to drive, please don't get behind the wheel of several tons of metal and hurtle yourself down the street, okay?