heathervescent

The Future of Cars and the Open Road

I’m not ready to give up the feeling of being behind a wheel, wind blowing my hair, driving at speed on the open road.

I contacted Alex Roy to talk with me about the future of cars. I learned about Alex years ago when he broke the Gumball 3000 record – driving from NY to LA in about 31 hours. I have to admit I was a little jealous of that road trip. I wanted to know Alex’s opinion about augmented driving technology. Was he willing to give up the wheel to a robot? Because I wasn’t.

Here's our podcast talking about the Future of Cars. We had so much fun discussing the future, this podcast inspired a SxSW panel submission which we provocatively titled: The Automotive Singularity is Not Near. If you want to hear more - vote for it! 

Our panel will discuss what we lose – and gain – when we switch to autonomous driving cars. What the transition might be like, and new problems and unintended consequences this technology might bring. 

Self-Driving Cars

Me and my dream car on Mt Wilson

I've watched the autonomous vehicles space for some time. I love my cars. I love driving. I love going fast over the speed limit, while considering the other drivers on the road. There is an emotional connection I feel when driving. I don't see this emotional aspect addressed in autonomous driving.

Cars were the first piece of technology that was an extension of my self. My hand on the stickshift, I feel the subtle vibrations of the road, the rpms, the engine. My fingers become the tires on the road. Sticky to the pavement. Don't even get me started on the diversity of road - concrete, blacktop, asphalt, gravel, sand and variety or gratings - metal or grooved, if you're lucky a railroad tie covered bridge in Iowa.

I drive a manual. I like having the control to place the car in a specific gear. Downshift for more power. Upshift to give the engine a break or for long roadtrips. My manual turbo has been good to me. I could take better care of her.

Recently, I focused my interest. As happened with money, relationships, intimacy and wearable technology, I am consuming everything on autonomous cars. Crystalizing my thoughts by talking with people. A few weeks ago, I interviewed Alex Roy for an upcoming podcast. I first heard about Alex from his notoriety blasting the Coast to Coast record. NY to LA in 31 hours.

(Sidenote: I deeply longed for those late nights on the unofficial Malibu track - Piuma, Stunt, Mulholland. Although I have not (and would not) attempt a cross-country record, I have a few speed stories of my own. Sidenote to the sidenote: speed with safety.)

If you're an early reader of this blog - you know I've written many words on my love of driving and roadtrips.

It will be no surprise, that I am skeptical about autonomous vehicles. Where is the passion? Why so much the focus on safety? The use case is, people want to get from A to B as safely as possible. I get that. But this whole paradigm forgets the passion, the identity, the experience of driving. It's part of America.

Will a self driving car give the same feeling I have when driving out the 62, 10pm, Milky Way overhead, a cool 78 degree wind whipping my hair? My hand on the stick, I feel the power engage as I downshift, and express itself as my foot presses the accelerator. Not to mention the sweet pause of disengagement when I engage the clutch and placing the gear softly in place, like falling into my temperpedic bed after a long day.

I concede that autonomous vehicles will be safer; but I'm afraid they'll kill the passion - the emotional experience I so deeply love.

How can we balance the benefits of technology to extend these emotional experiences?

 

Mist in the Night

It's a Northwest day. We don't have many of these in Los Angeles. They are nice. Misting all night, maybe a light pitter patter. The sidewalks show their many shades of grey. The sky reflects these like a mirror. 

Moisture makes the pavement absorb what light filters through the mist. I zip through Hollywood traffic to the Valley, returning back via Laurel Canyon. As I'm driving home through these iconic hills, I watch my speed. It's new asphalt, black and gleaming and just aches for dancing up the gears. But I know the cops watch this, so I keep it purring softly. I glide through the turns, pairs of white lights snaking down the other side. 

I crest the top and we coast into the valley, mist rising out of the darkness. 

I can't help but think, this is the city I love. These dark, misty nights, streets black with moisture, my hand on the stick, safe in the grid.

Reflections on the Concrete Jungle

New York got to me. 

 

In past trips, she coaxed me with beckoning caresses, this trip she dug in her nails. Biting cold, wind whipping through the urban canyons. I opened my coat and let that cold wind pierce my heart, remembering cold January's in the early 90s. I found no solace in people. None in work. I felt I had lost my path with heart. And in heathervescent land, there's only one thing to do when that happens...

Returning to Los Angeles, brisk wind blowing through her, I was thankful for my new found NY clothing. At first moment, I took Lady Vescent on a long embrace. I was interested if I had grown rusty with almost two weeks of subway traveling. But I was sharp as a knife. Threading the needle at 90 through city streets and favorite freeways. The speed, she heals my soul. 

I needed to push my boundaries. I wanted to kiss the edge, go beyond it, etch a remembrance of my tires in the pavement. I went to the wildest place close to Los Angeles: not Latigo, Piuma or the Malibu hills "racetrack", but the raw mountains of San Gabriel, Big Tujunga and Mt Wilson. 

Lost, and found.

Lady V and I weave out of Hollywood, through the San Fernando Valley and I finally hit the triple digits on the 2 north of Glendale. Racing up a mountain, top down, wind blowing, white knuckle riding, conversing with my city. I decelerate quickly, pause at the stop sign and head north into the mountains. The stop is as critical as the acceleration. There can be no speeding without being stuck behind the slow car, no acceleration without the stop. 

I feast my eyes on the scenery as I pass the 2000, 3000, 4000, 5000 elevation markers. It's getting colder, I'm glad for my heated seats. The road is moist, rockfall peppers the pavement. We're above the clouds, a road twisting between the mountains. 

I reach the top, view shrouded in fog. There is no Los Angeles overlook today. But that's ok, because I know what my city looks like. I didn't come for the views today, I came for the roads. And off we are again. Painting the double yellow through a burned forest. 

Sharing the road with a few sightseers, motorcyclists and locals. I came to the roadhouse, a row of motorcycles parked outside. Lunch stop perfection. Body refued before pressing forward. With the intention of getting lost in the mountains. Easier with no cell reception. I sped again on roads, tracked and backtracked, turned off and turned off again. The mountains eventually changing, until I realized I was entering the desert. 

Such was my delight! Lost in the mountains only to find the desert. Look at those wide open spaces! 

The afternoon waned and I felt responsibilities calling. My heart rejuvenated, I returned to the mountain roads, pushing faster spurred on with favorite songs, winding my way onto the freeway system: 210, 118, 5, 170 into there's no place like Hollywood Home. 

Home again, home again. 

My Favorite Roadtrip Moment

There is one single series of moments that is always my favorite in every roadtrip.

Most of time I'm a solo individual on the highway. I admit, I tend to drive towards the faster end of the spectrum. My recent roadtrip to Texas cajoled me into a high speed comfort zone. Here's the vision: me in my swedish "born from jets" black turbo convertible winking at the pickups. If one passed me, I'd peer up to see what was on the dash. I had to give up the Valentine One when the boyf got the speedier vehicle, but I can recognize the device. When I'd see one in a truck speeding by, I'd increase my speed and fall into their groove. There's a sense of camaraderie driving with a pack at [redacted] speed. The creation of an ad hoc community formed by the shared value of speed. Individuals identified only by make, model and color. A vehicular tango.

I am always filled with sadness and spent adrenaline when our paths inevitably part.

I had a particularly wonderful engagement with a pickup in Colorado several years ago. We zipped through the rockies, threading the needle with the slower cars. I was hours ahead of schedule. Just after we crossed into Utah, he headed south while I continued west. As our engagement ended, we rolled down our windows and waved as we drove further apart. Although I never knew his name and we never spoke a word, hell - I never saw what he looked like; we connected on another level. Our tires tread the same hot pavement. The memory of those moments are as fresh as yesterday.

Goodbye stranger, it's been nice. Thanks for joining me, for miles in paradise.

Thanks to Jordan for this lovely picture.

Making Lemonade with Four Wheels

Whack jobs
Who is crazy enough to put a six point roll cage into a Geo Metro, Bitchin Camaro, Saab 900 or VW Rabbit with a pancake on it’s head? “Serious racers who've had enough of the seriousness and just want to go out and have a good time for a change. Or whack jobs who've always wanted to get on a racetrack but couldn't figure out how to get started,” says Lamm.

My team was definitely of the whack job variety. Let me introduce them: Dominik our fearless leader had the genius idea to take the piece of junk supra to the races. The car was actually his girlfriend Kelly's, and she used to drive it around south pasadena with her two pit bull mixes in the back. It had broken down on her more than once. Dave was our master welder and patiently bended and often rebended the roll cage pieces. Sam was the least crazy of us all and proved to be the best and fastest driver getting only one penalty when he did a 180. You already know me -- I'm hell on four wheels.

Read the rest of my article over on the Suicide Girls site.

Winners!

Big thank you to Dominik, Sam, Kelly and our weekend welder Dave - the Junkyard Dogs Racing Team - who put hours of long effort to make the "Mad Max" car the Judges Choice at our first 24 Hours of Lemons.

I felt like of the runt of the pack - trying to help and stay out of the way. Sitting back and letting others make decisions. It wasn't my car. I hadn't put in the long hours welding the cage (although I did work on the car - it was mostly the guys). I was just excited to have my own racing suit and (third) helmet. (Apparently my motorcycle helmets can not be used for car racing.) I was nervous and anxious before the race. It would be a few hours before my turn behind the wheel. So I decided to sit down and chill out. My time to cram into the 5 point harness, neck brack and helmet would come.

And then it did. I was strapped in. Driving through the paddock to the hot pits. One final check and I was on the track. One thought barely flitted in my mind - that maybe I was scared - but like the bulldozer on the minivan Sunday afternoon - that thought was gone as I braked for my first turn and put the wheels to squealing.

I felt the tactile nubs on the steering wheel. My right foot went from accelerator to brake. My eyes analyzed the track, my brain calculating the curves, bank and how and where to enter them. I didn't notice the pressure from centrifugal force moving me to this side and that. I heard the rev and popping of engines. I smelled burned oil, brakes and fuel. I was calm, relaxed and one with the car.

I pushed it through the turns gaining what little speed I could. I swung the back end with a not always small fishtail (that more than once turned into a 180). I watched how the more expert racers (who were driving almost twice my speed) set themselves up for the curves and hills - and I tried to stay out of the way when the pack descended upon me passing on all sides through the straightways or the curves. I wasn't phased by them. I just wish I had someone to race with. I didn't pass one car the entire time. It seems we forgot to bring a racecar to the race. :)

Nevertheless, I've lost my racing virginity and gotten bitten by the bug. I foresee many cars and tracks in my future.

Mom on the Blog

It's happened this week - my mom started her blog. We had been talking about it for a year or so, and I had kind of promised I would help her start - but instead I thought it would be good for her to learn to do it herself. Afterall she was the one who said "go look in the dictionary" when I didn't know how to spell something. (My response was - how can I look it up if I don't know how to spell it?!?!)

Anyway, her blog is going strong. So far, she's blow me away writing about me dying my hair with Kool-Aid when I was a teenager, night-time chariot races in our Kansas City backyard and slalom racing her Jaguar. From her blog:

My third run driving intensity was somewhere between the first two even though it was my best time.   I just wanted to drive clean and fast.  BUT…. those stupid people were still there at the final 360 degree cone turn.   What are they doing there???  They actually look like they are having a picnic!!  Get out of the way!!  I leaned on the horn and came smoking in with the horn singing!!!  That got the attention of the folks having the picnic as well as in the grandstand! And they loved it! 

Some of my friends had been in the grandstand watching, but not knowing for sure who was driving which car until I took my helmet off and put on my sun hat.  After the event, they were talking as I walked up.   Any way, it turns out that my intense driving was the crowd pleaser!   Particularly as I came out of the last 360 degree+ turn into the gravel right in front of them on my second run.  They said that the crowd collectively sucked-in their breath in one huge gasp.  Evidently it looked as though I was going straight into the wall.  “What wall,” I asked my friends?  “I never even saw the wall;  I was focused on those silly little orange cones that I had to drive through!”  My driving caused some thrilling moments for the watching crowd!!   If they only know how thrilling it was for me!!!!  Baby Jag deserves a nice rest and I have yet to completely wash the number 9 off of her windshield because, everytime I look at it, it reminds me of a fun event and we both smile!

Mom, where'd you learn to drive like that? (Guess who taught me how to drive?!) Maybe we'll have to have a mother/daughter blog/racing team. Yeah, that would be fun!

Dog, Convertible

Top is down, a warm wind is blowing and I'm driving 70 on the 101 through the valley. Next to me is the dog sitting perfectly in the passenger seat. Nose forward, sniffing the air and looking into the sky. I've got the radio blasting and an airplane is taking off from Burbank overhead. It's just me and the dog, in our enclosed yet open to the sky bubble jetting along the flow.

Another day living the dream - a new dream.

Thrown Back in my Seat

The saab's in the shop to fix the damage that happened on the AZ trip. She was really looking beat up and I'm very happy to get her back in tip top shape. I was hoping she'd be done by the time I returned from my east coast travels, but she's got a few more days in the car spa. I could have limped by on foot here in Hollywood - but I can do that any day, so I went out and got a rental car. In the past, I have gotten the most basic rental car - nothing special, and definitely missing my quirky saab luxury. But this time, I did something different.

I'm of two extreme minds. The first is the rough and rugged beat up old pick-up that you can take anywhere, put anything in the back and generally slide around and get dirty. My second mind loves luxury. All comforts already thought of, anything you could want, there before you form the thought of desire. A perfect example is that Vegas trip, where I went from historic quirky hotel in Tucson, where I had to wait for the hot water to heat up, to uber luxury over the top pad on the Vegas strip, to rough camping in death valley without even a tent!

I decided to use this car rental opportunity to indulge a dream. I first asked for a Lotus, but there were none in stock (apparently they are crashed more than not) so I ended up with an Infinity G35 sedan. It's a bit more parental styling for my tastes (Coupe is more my style) but the horsepower impressed me.

I picked her up and ran some errands to get the feel of her. Whew, I forgot all about automatics and their automatic desire to go forward unless foot is on the brake. Then the boyf and I decided to joyride to Malibu.

We zipped along sunset in the dark carving the curves. As we were stopped at the 405 interchange I had finally gotten an open bit of pavement in front of me, so I floored it from the stop. We were both immediately thrown back in our seats as I accelerated the 40 feet. Wow. We spent the rest of the evening playing with our new found power and enjoying it immensely.

1300 mile highlights

Eight hundred miles in the past three days. (A total of 1300 in the past week.) Three states. Many states of mind. Much stimulation of the brain. Meeting new people. Getting to know acquaintances better. There are not enough words in my exhausted brain to even begin describing all that transpired the past seven days. I returned to Los Angeles a few hours ago - a car full of packages and a bit more worn for the wear. Both my fog lights were blown out Friday night after hitting a raccoon just outside of Sedona and a rabbit about 30 minutes south of the Hoover Dam.

I will try to pull out some snippets from my memory.

Most recently I returned from Death Valley this afternoon after a sleepless night filled with stars and conversations. A friend brought up two concepts I realized during our conversing I don't really know or use: Mercy and Happiness. I am not motivated to live my life with Happiness in mind. I have other emotions that motivate me. And about Mercy, well, it never even occurred to me. I don't think I even know what Mercy is. I generally wield the ax of justice and it definitely severs relationships. So this concept of pondering mercy and how to be more merciful, is intriguing and something I will meditate on - and perhaps practice.

Hiking at dusk in Sedona. I wanted to go to a magical place and instead the trail I chose went along an Indian resort. I was irritated and frustrated. It was getting dark, and it was not my idea at all to drive 5 hours to Sedona only to be surrounded by the sounds of cars and air conditioning and civilization when I was supposed to be in a magical place. I guess the Indians need to make a living too.

When I stopped to catch my breath on the trail at the twisted juniper right where the sign was posted "You are on camera, so don't jump the fence you stinky hikers" complete with industrial lights destroying the natural darkness. I spied a ledge - right in the middle of the light. I had a flash of inspiration and went straight to the spot - straight in the middle of the spotlight under the surveillance cameras and proceeded to meditate upon being in the spotlight. And so, instead of fighting my self about NOT being in the spotlight because that's not where I thought I wanted to be, I understood why I need to be in the spotlight because that is really where I must be. Inner conflict resolved.

I can't even begin to express how much the conference I attended in Tucson effected me. Over the next few days I'll try to write up some notes. I attended the conference to learn more about what science is doing around the study of understanding and explaining consciousness and the human brain. I left with the beginnings of a new language and awe for ourselves and awe for science. I plan to explore my interest in this subject more and more in the coming years.

I love driving in the desert at night. I put the top down and looked at the stars, felt the wind in my face as I drove back from the official conference dinner Thursday night at the Desert Museum. I put on Orbital Blue Album and took in the wind, driving fast and taking the curves. I am happiest at the wheel of my car, alone on a dark two lane twisty highway. My car is an extension of my body - I feel the vibrations of my tires on the road through my stick and wheel. I listen to the motor as I increase RPMs and slow down, shifting accordingly for speed or coast.

I wondered, why does this make me so happy? To be alone, a bullet speeding along. But then I stop thinking and enjoy the ride. This is truly something I love.

I felt the same way when I came upon the Hoover dam past midnight. I had spent hours driving through Arizona. Napoleon Hill was speaking to me in those midnight hours (and when the rabbit met her death under my wheel). I passed through the check point and then was upon the dam. A huge bright lit construction was being built above me. I was in awe at modern engineering. I slowed and looked at the new bridge. It was beautiful and massive.

A moment later I crested a hill and a city of twinkling lights unfolded below me. It was beautiful. And for once in my life I saw the beauty of Las Vegas. I found my way to the Strip and a posh hotel filled with friends. A strong difference of my last days in the desert.

There are many more stories to write. Many more things I want to share with you - my anonymous readers. But tonight I sleep. For tomorrow another adventure begins and I must tend to my dreams.

Stunt Car Enlightenment

You think whipping a car around was all I learned this weekend? Oh no. I'm enlightened by clouds of burning rubber. First off, Bobby Orr is the bomb! If you have any desire to learn some serious driving skills (and I'm not talking speed racing - I'm talking moving your car around skills - then go to him.)

I actually got to work with the guy, his name was Bobby Orr, and he was a Nascar driver, he teaches a lot of stunt guys, he has like five world records for stunts," Scott said. "He also teaches the Department of Defense. He works for the Department of Defense teaching soldiers how to maneuver their cars before they go to Iraq. (Source)

We pulled into the Camarillo Airport at 7:30 Saturday morning. I'm bleary because I haven't had any coffee yet and hoping there is coffee there. We arrive to a classroom in a trailer. There is no coffee. I salvage some sparkling water from my car.

After about an hour discussion about tire pressure we're given directions to get out on the tarmac and start the hands on section. I'm the only woman in the class, other than an instructor's assistant. First things first, we each get in a car and proceed to drive the slalom course - to observe our bad habits to break! Bad habits like arms flying, palming the wheel and looking at the cones.

Over the next two days, Bobby took us 4 street drives and turned us into possible professional stunters. I say possible because you can't possible become a profession stunt driver after 2 days of learning, you must practice a lot more to be able to put a car in the box. But I learned more than the core skills of flipping a 180 or sliding into a parking space at 90 degrees or doing a reverse 180 (totally cool, squealing tires and all!). He taught/reminded me

• Look at where I want to go // lock on tractor beam eyes - don't look at the obstacles ("Don't look at the cones! Look at the horizon!" .. "Look at this cone right here. You can't put your shoulder right here at this cone if you are looking across the hood.") Something magical happened when I turned my head in the 180 - the weight transfered and the car switched directions in a cloud of burned rubber smoke and wheels screaming! Magic or Science - it worked when I turned my head!
• It's the Feeling. Relax, get the feeling. Breath. I love being behind the wheel. I am calm and relaxed, especially when pulling a 180. ;)
• Timing is everything. It's the difference between putting it in the box and not. It's the difference between pass and fail. It's the difference between a high five and a car crash. It's the difference between life and death.
• Pause before you pull the trigger (or pull the eBrake). I've written about this pause before. It's so true.
• Make the car do the work. It's got more leverage and weight than my puny arm. Don't think I can bully it around. But understand how what I put into the car, comes out and don't over manage/over steer it!
• I can take pain, I have determination. Sometimes, in my more insecure moments, I worry that when it comes to the wire, I pussy out. I was never one for finishing my homework. It's very hard for me to do things I have no desire to do (like 20 math problems). But for my dreams and passions, there is no end to the heathervescent energy and determination. This weekend reminded me of that.

Hardcore Enlightenment. I left the weekend exhausted, covered in sweat, dirt and rubber. I left knowing awesome skills. I left remembering lessons applicable to every facet of my life. I left with pain and burst blisters and a little more enlightened and the ability to kick ass in novel and exciting ways.

Thank you guru stunt driver Bobby Orr!

ps. Sorry about blowing the three tires. xo

Delerious

This is a quick update from Frank Zappa's Camarillo (Brillo). Am I getting old or did I just spend all day driving, getting nowhere except covered in rubber. Really, black streams of rubber just washed down my body into the shower drain.

I.am.exhausted.

Like never before. Class was a.w.e.s.o.m.e. A true dream come true.

It feels so good to have dreams come true. They are not so far out of reach. And when you start tasting them - what they taste like - there is no going back. There is no more soul selling and putting off for tomorrow. There is only the present. Living.

Black pavement. Airplanes overhead. Sun blinding your eyes (because doh - you left your sunglasses back at the hotel). Blowing tires, burning rubber. I was the first to knock down a cone (I gave myself permission to knock down cones because I wanted to do the course faster and tighter. And I did. And then I didn't knock any cones down.) I blew a tire practicing ebraking (pre-180 slides or were they sliding 90s?). My eyes hurt like never before. I have blisters on my hands, thumbs from practicing the shuffle and pulling up on the ebrake.

It took me 20 tried to do my first slide. I practiced Zen Mind - even when berated and taunted. As I increased speed, my calmness stood, although my hands were flying. I kept hearing the voice of my yoga teacher who says "palmy hands up" saying "no palmy hands" as I kept them below the center line.

I am learning (remembering) more than skills, the importance of tires. I am remembering to look to the horizon, to pause before pulling the trigger. Timing. The feel of the cars, the road, the manuevars. I am remembering to live with a wide smile across my face.

Declare Independence

For the past two days I have had Bjork in my head. C put it there and it won't get out. But that's ok, because it's the theme song for today: Declare Independence.

And in a few moments I will pack up MsVescent, put the top down and we will drive away from this land of red rocks. It's my Independence Day Drive through the desert!

I'm excited because I'm taking a northern route and swinging through Nevada. I may hit up Death Valley and most definitely the Mojave National Preserve. It's too bad I'm not in an offroad vehicle, because the backcountry roads I know and love best are gonna be right off the pavement. Another time.

Ingemar

I started out early saturday morning meeting Charlotte in Playa del Rey. She introduced me to Ingemar - an olive/black saab convertible. I don't think I mentioned on the blog, but I sold my black saab convertible earlier this summer. Even though we had so many good adventures together, it just felt like it was time for it to go. My heart was breaking as I sold it. I knew I was onto bigger and better things, but still, I loved her so.

In the meantime, I've been driving the surprise Jeep. I think I wanted one at some point, maybe when I was a teenager, but I'm not into the jeep at all. I feel like I am in college and I don't like that feeling. The jeep has all the bad characteristics of a convertible (loud wind noise) and none of the good (fast, sticky tires, nimble) - not to mention almost everyone has a jeep in LA. It's about as unique as fake tits on a trophy wife. Blech.

I digress. Before I met Ingemar, I was pretty sure I was going to fall in love. I had secretly been stalking the ad for a couple weeks. I wasn't sure if I really wanted another saab. (I was really in denial.) And it was really expensive - more than I wanted to pay - although a good price for the vehicle. So I just sat and waited. And hoped I would forget. But I didn't.

Then I remembered the feeling I had when I saw the ad. It was love at first sight - just like my last saab. In that case, I saw the posting and I knew that was the one I wanted. Again, it was selling for a lot more than I wanted to spend. And I waited that time, but eventually ended up buying it. (See the blog postings from June of 2004.)

I was pretty sure the same thing was happening here. I would stalk the listings and eventually come back and look at Ingemar. I thought, this is the perfect car, it's exactly what I want and at the same time... noooo, it's way more than you wanted to spend. Finally I broke down and wrote an email to the owner. We agreed to meet Saturday morning for a test drive. Stepping into Ingemar was like coming home. It was so much like my previous saab. When I curled my fingers around the stick and felt the smooth as butter clutch, that was it. I had to have it.

I can't express how happy I am to be back in a convertible - a saab convertible. And I can't wait to get back to California. Ingemar is waiting.

Automatic Driving

I've been driving about 4 different cars recently. With Gloria in Italy taking care of her sister, her car is left parked on the street. I would occasionally start it and take it down to the corner store - just to keep the oil moving. But then I finally cleaned my car and decided that it was easier to take Moki (the dog) certain places in Gloria's car, so I started using her car a bit more. Here's an important distinction:Gloria's car is automatic, all of my vehicles are manual transmission.

I always pay attention when I drive an automatic. Usually I flail my right hand and stomp my left leg, because they don't realize they are not needed. Driving a stick, I have mastered the art of driving, shifting, talking on the phone and eating M&Ms.

But back to the automatic driving. It's a completely different world. It's so easy to drive an automatic. I can't believe how relaxed I was. Too relaxed in fact. I kept thinking, if almost everyone drives an automatic, why is there so much road rage? It's no challenge. And maybe that is the key. Because you don't really need to focus your attention on driving your car, your attention needs more stimulus and you are distracted by the radio, CD player, cell phone, billboard, hot chick at the corner, the dog, whatever is on your mind...

So in a way, it's almost more dangerous to drive an automatic, because you can be distracted more, whereas if you drive a stick and are completely distracted by the world, you won't actually get anywhere - you'll stall. There's a correlation to living your life in there, but I'm too distracted to write about it. ;)

Ha Ha LA Traffic

Who needs to worry about LA traffic when you've got this. Oh yeah, I love it. I want it. I've been talking about getting a big beefy truck. I mean, this is what the war is all about baby?! Midwest Pinzgauer