The Driving Lesson

This is a speech I prepared for an ATM project. You may use it as is, but I believe it will prove more useful as an idea generator.

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The Driving Lesson

Introduction

There must be a special place in heaven for people like my Dad – he taught me how to drive! Madam Toastmaster, fellow Toastmasters, and most welcome guests. . .

Learn the Rules

March 1970 was a wonderful month in mid-Missouri. The spring came early that year, our town dedicated a new statue down on the square, and I turned 16. I was ready to drive!

On March 4th of that year, my Dad handed me my birthday present. Of course, I wanted a new car – instead I got a book; a cheap book – The Missouri Driver’s Manual (free of charge at the City Hall). He told me that he would teach me how to drive when I was ready, but first I had to learn the rules. My test wasn’t to get my learner’s permit – I had to know the rules well enough to pass Dad’s test!

Over the next few weeks he quizzed me often. We’d be driving down the street and he’d ask "What does that sign mean?" or "What did that driver just do wrong?"

Finally, one Saturday morning in May, my Father pushed himself back from the breakfast table and announced "You know the rules, now it’s time for you to start driving. Let’s go for a ride."

There must be a special place in heaven for people like my Dad, for he taught me that before you start you have to learn the rules. You have to learn the rules.

Allow Yourself Plenty of Room For Errors

My Dad took me out to our old, 1964 Rambler station wagon – you know the kind: A Tank! He got in to drive and I hopped into the passenger seat, giddy with anticipation. We drove to a church parking lot near our home and Dad parked the car near the center of the lot, turned off the ignition, and said, "It’s your turn."

I quickly looked around. This parking lot was big, with no concrete barriers, cars, or any other obstructions anywhere in sight. It was a wonderful place to learn to drive. And, it was behind a church – you couldn’t get much more protected than that!

My Dad was smart, for he knew I’d need plenty of room for mistakes. He taught me more than driving – He taught me to give myself plenty of room for errors.

To Make a Car Move, You Gotta Put It In Gear

After I slipped in behind the wheel, I adjusted the seat back a notch or two, adjusted the inside mirror, adjusted the outside mirror, re-checked the distance between me and the wheel, re-adjusted the seat and mirrors, re-re-checked the wheel, and kept doing that for a long time. Finally, Dad quietly said, "You can start the car if you want."

I mashed down on the clutch and turned the key. The old Rambler started and hummed in my hands. I was in heaven. I revved up the engine and adjusted the mirrors again. I continued to rev the engine, when Dad said, "Son, if you’re going to go somewhere, you gotta put the car in gear."

There must be a special place in heaven for people like my Dad, for he taught me if you’re going to go somewhere, you gotta put it in gear.

Focus on What’s Important

I put the car in gear and let the clutch out. The car jumped forwards about three feet – and died. I started it again, let out on the clutch, and it jumped to its death again. Dad told me to ease the clutch out slowly. I started the car and eased out the clutch. It bucked a few times forwards, backwards, and, I swear, even sideways. But I held on and rode it out until she finally settled down and began to slowly move around the parking lot. I was driving! I was in first gear and only going about five miles per hour, but I was driving.

After a few minutes of driving around in that parking lot, Dad had me put the car in second. She bucked a few times, then began to glide around the lot smooth as a boat in a calm sea.

Finally, Dad told me to take her out of the lot and get into the street. As we rolled around our neighborhood, I was very proud of my work. I remember once, though, when I passed a car parked on the side of the road. Dad complemented me on my ability to drive so close to the car without hitting it. Then he said, "I’m really surprised you could get so close to the man who was lying under the car working on it and had his feet sticking out into the road." To this day I don’t believe there was actually a man there, but I’ve also learned to give parked cars a wide berth.

There must be a special place in heaven for people like my Dad, for he taught me so much more than driving – Learn to focus on what’s in the road.

Conclusion

Fellow Toastmasters, there must be a special place in heaven for people like my Dad – for he taught me how to live: Learn the rules, give yourself room for errors, there comes a time to put it in gear, and keep focused on the road ahead.

Madam Toastmaster.

George R. Self
E-mail me at: grself@c2i2.com

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