Changing Times

My stepsister and I were talking about our vehicles the other night, and we discovered that we both drive standard transmissions. That, of course, is a vanishing breed.

I'm not sure when my stepsister bought her vehicle, but I bought mine about a year ago. It was used — a couple of years old — and it was a five–speed standard transmission. I saw it advertised on the internet and went to investigate on a Saturday.

The salesman was a friendly fellow — they always are, aren't they? — and he was glad someone was interested in the vehicle, but he hesitantly got around to mentioning (apologetically) that it was a standard transmission. Was I aware of that? he asked.

"Oh, yes," I replied. "That is what I want," and he seemed relieved to hear that. I explained that I have been driving standard transmissions nearly all of my driving life. I probably wouldn't know what to do with my left foot if I didn't drive a standard.

I guess the first car I drove regularly was an automatic. My mother and grandmother taught me how to drive. We went out in the country — there was a lot of it around where I grew up — and I practiced basic maneuvers. My parents had two cars, one an automatic and the other a standard. Mom felt I should learn to drive both.

She told me that there might come a time when an emergency would come up and the only vehicle that could be used was a standard. In such a situation, it would be good if I knew how to drive a standard. The other people around me might not know how.

That made sense to me — except that later, as I reflected on Mom's reasoning, I thought that, if I had not been the one who drove the standard to wherever this situation occurred, the owner of that standard must be there, too. Wouldn't that person be able to drive the vehicle? It seemed Mom had overlooked that detail. Perhaps not, though. Perhaps the owner broke a leg or was rendered unconscious. Then, by process of elimination, it might be up to me to save us all — or, at least, get us the hell out of Dodge.

So I could accept Mom's reasoning on that. Maybe she did touch all the bases in her reasoning based on what she knew to be true at the time — but she and I both failed to anticipate a time (in my lifetime) when standard transmissions would virtually cease to exist. That seems to be where we are headed. Standards, as I observed earlier, are dwindling. Someday in the future — perhaps the near future — a vehicle with standard transmission may be a special order kind of thing — if it still exists at all.

This vehicle I am driving now may well turn out to be the last of its kind for me. In the future, I may not have a choice about what kind of transmission to have in my vehicle. It might be regarded as a luxury option — luxury in the sense of additional cost.

That will mean yet another adjustment in my life, but that really doesn't bother me too much, I suppose. I've been through that kind of thing before.

What really bothers me is future generations, who are being deprived of more of the simple pleasures of life and not really getting something better — or even just equal — in return.

I saw a meme on Facebook the other day that pointed out that modern cell phone users will never know the satisfaction of slamming a telephone receiver to end a frustrating call. I'm sure it never sounded as dramatic on the other end, but it sure did feel good, didn't it? Pressing a button to end a call just never has been the same.

And future drivers operating an automatic transmission will never feel as liberated as shifting into fifth gear on an open highway and watching the countryside race by can make you feel.

Of course, these days, there is talk of driverless cars. I'm not sure how I feel about that. It is said that driverless cars will permit their owners to relax, perhaps read the morning paper, while being taken to work by someone who shares the same family tree with Manti Te'o's girlfriend.

I don't think I could relax or read with a ghost behind the wheel.

Cell Phones Don't Kill People

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I was listening to the radio yesterday morning, and, for awhile, the topic of the discussion was banning cell phone use while driving. Should we or shouldn't we?

I missed the beginning of the conversation, but I assume it was in response to the National Transportation Safety Board's proposal this week for a ban on cell phone use and text messaging devices while driving.

Now, before I go any farther with this, I guess I should say that there are times when I feel like a refugee from another time.

Not to say that I am old — not yet (although there are times when I feel that I need to be wearing a shirt like the one my mother had — it said, "Hill? What hill? I didn't see any hill!") — but there are definitely times when I feel that technology has gone galloping past me.

Time, I have discovered, doesn't merely fly. It sprints. You younger folks will understand that one day.

Anyway, that's how I feel about cell phones.

As I have written here before, I taught journalism on the college level in the mid–1990s. I left the classroom for several years, but I gravitated back to it last year, taking a job as an adjunct journalism professor in the local community college system.

When I did, I quickly discovered how many things had changed in the intervening years. In the '90s, for example, none of my students had cell phones. Today, they all do. It was essential to implement rules about their use in class to maintain order — and get anything done.

It's a battle I'm still fighting.

On a personal level, I resisted cell phones for many years, and I had pretty good reasons. I'm not married, and I have no children. It was an additional expense, and, in the event of an emergency on the road, I figured (at first) that I could always use a pay phone.

Well, I'm still not married, and I still have no children. Cell phones are still an additional expense, but pay phones have just about disappeared. I finally decided it might be worth the expense to be sure I would have one if something happened — but I only use it when it is absolutely necessary.

See, I've learned that anything can happen — and it can happen all by itself. It doesn't need anyone's assistance.

And I have been wary of cell phones because I have long believed that they were likely to contribute to the accident rate — which certainly doesn't need any help.

When my parents taught me to drive, the thing they emphasized, more than any other, was to keep my eyes on the road. If your attention is distracted, they told me, even for a second, it can have tragic consequences, and one must be ever vigilant — because anything can be a distraction.

A distraction can be a very modest, very momentary thing, like the sound of a dog barking or a sudden movement one catches from the corner of one's eye. But cell phone conversations can go on indefinitely, and the distraction from the task at hand can be far from modest.

The introduction of texting into the mix just raised the risk level, as far as I was concerned. It certainly raised my awareness of the risks.

Perhaps it was due, in part, to the fact that I went without a cell phone for so long, but there were certain things about them that I just never considered — and, to be fair, there were other things that just weren't factors until recently.

Like texting.

And, perhaps because my cell phone is so basic, so ordinary, I'm not entirely acclimated to a world in which the internet is at your fingertips, wherever you are. When I was in graduate school, there was no internet (well, no real commercial internet). A few years later, that was a reality. It was a new frontier, but you could only explore it from your desk at home or at work.

Then, along came laptops, and you weren't tied to a physical location anymore. But laptops are still too big and bulky for some people so access to all of it has been condensed to the "smart phone," a gadget that fits in the palm of your hand.

(Oh, what we could have done with those when I was a general assignment reporter fresh out of college!)

The speed of technological advancements has made so many things possible that my poor mind never imagined most of them — and still needs time to absorb it all.

That point was made clear to me when I heard the listeners' calls.

One observed that he frequently uses the GPS app on his cell phone when he is driving in an unfamiliar area. The cell phone is equipped to "speak" to him so it isn't necessary for him to look at the cell phone, as he would if texting. And his car is equipped for hands–free operation of the cell phone so it really is no different than speaking to a human occupant of the vehicle.

He travels a lot, he said, but he rarely has a traditional conversation on his cell phone — and almost never does so when he is behind the wheel. But, when he is using this GPS feature, which he often does because his work requires him to spend a lot of time in unfamiliar territory, "I'm still talking on my phone," he pointed out, "so, technically, I would be in violation of the law."

True — but not necessarily its spirit.

The law is intended to discourage people from talking on the phone while they're driving — which is certainly a noble objective — although, in a culture in which people can be seen trying to eat cereal, apply makeup, even get dressed behind the wheel during the daily morning rush hour, one can be forgiven for wondering if such legislation goes far enough.

Before the discussion ended, a veteran police officer came on the line. Now, most policemen with whom I have spoken about this agree that cell phone use should be curtailed while driving; they just disagree on how the law should address it.

But this particular officer wasn't too concerned about the use of cell phones behind the wheel. It's just another distraction, he said, no worse than having a conversation with someone else in the vehicle — and he went on to point out that he had many electronic distractions in his police car.

It's all a matter of being mature enough to handle it, he said.

Cell phones don't kill people.

A Close Shave

I have been thinking about when I was a teenager and my parents taught me to drive.

Sometimes my father instructed me. If my father wasn't available, my mother did. They had different styles. But they both emphasized the same thing over and over.

They told me to keep my eyes on the road.

There were a lot of distractions in those days. There are even more these days. I'm sure you've heard the reports of both adults and teenagers texting while behind the wheel — and slamming into the back of the vehicle ahead of them.

That's bad enough, but even before texting, I saw a lot of things that demonstrated to me that there were many people — licensed drivers — who never would have met my parents' standards.

I've seen people eating bowls of cereal while driving in rush–hour traffic. I've seen drivers who were looking in the rear–view mirror and combing/brushing their hair or applying makeup. I've seen drivers tying their ties and dabbing themselves with cologne.

I've even seen a few people who were actually changing their clothes while driving along.

In all honesty, I kind of thought I had seen it all.

But then Bob Gordon proved me wrong in Digital Journal.

Gordon reports that "[a] 37–year–old woman in Florida has been charged with reckless driving after causing an accident because she was distracted as she shaved her pubic hair."

Apparently, the woman was in an accident while she was "shaving her bikini area." Her ex–husband was handling the wheel from the passenger side. Here's the kicker — she was on her way to see her boyfriend and wanted to be ready.

Her vehicle, which was traveling at 45 mph, rear–ended a vehicle that had slowed down to make a turn.

Read Gordon's account. He quotes a state trooper who called it "surreal."

Must have been a real eyeful.

Should Cell Phones Be Banned on the Road?

Unless you're a stunt driver — like the ones in the 1996 film "Crash" — no one intends to be in an automobile accident.

But, more and more frequently, people who insist on talking on their cell phones while trying to operate their vehicles find themselves in accidents with other drivers, often resulting in serious injuries and sometimes causing the deaths of motorists.

That's why the National Safety Council is urging a nationwide ban on using cell phones behind the wheel.

Understandably, the cell phone industry opposes the move, and politicians are reluctant to embrace it, believing that supporting it will cost them votes.

Courage is required.

Cell phones make many things possible today. For example, parents can keep in touch with their children, even when those children are nowhere near a traditional landline phone.

That can be valuable in many ways and many situations. When young people were being slaughtered at Columbine a decade ago, there's no telling how many parents' minds were put at ease with the knowledge cell phones provided that their children were safe.

But cell phones can also be a distraction, one that can have deadly consequences in other situations.

It will be a hard law to enforce.

If someone is pulled over by a police officer and ticketed for talking on a cell phone while operating a vehicle, that person can claim to have been answering an emergency call — even if the truth is that the person overslept and is running late for work or is merely chatting with a friend.

Certain provisions need to be included in such a ban. People with more knowledge of the technology than I need to be involved in the writing of such laws.

Common sense says that there are situations in which speaking on a cell phone is necessary, even behind the wheel.

But studies have shown that drivers can be distracted from the task of driving simply by conversing with a passenger. That risk is compounded by trying to simultaneously operate a cell phone and a vehicle.

A driver has two hands and two eyes. Both should be focused on the primary job, which is to operate the vehicle.

There must be an answer that will address everyone's concerns — even if it is completely satisfactory to no one.