Drivers Wanted?

Friday, February 09, 2007

On my way to work today, I found myself thinking about metaphors and adages:

"Drivers Wanted"
"If you're not the lead dog, the view never changes"
"Don't take a backseat to life"


Et cetera, et cetera.

Then I started trying to think about the best times in my life. I'll give a moment for you to also do so. Ok. Good. Now, how many of those stories begin with "I was driving...?"

Then I started thinking about some of the worst times in my life, and quite a few of those begin with "I was driving..." "I had to drive..." They're always stories about how you didn't get to drink, or how you got stuck in traffic, or how you went all the way to Chula Vista and you forgot the tickets to the Carrot Top show, and you had to drive all the way back West Covina to get them.

No story is ever made better by being the driver. Fender benders, speeding tickets, road rage - all fun if you're the passenger, and it's awesome if you're in the backseat.

So on my way into work this morning, I was thinking of those phrases about "being in the driver's seat," and I realized what a lonely and solitary existence that is most of the time. Sure, you get to where you want to go at your own pace, with no one to blame but yourself. Things from the backseat are a lot more fun. A speeding ticket in the front seat is a week-long stomach ache, a speeding ticket from the backseat is actually almost kinda funny. A flat tire in the front seat is a huge pain in the ass. A flat tire from the backseat is a bit of an adventure. Conversations to pass the time, throwing and yelling shit out the window, slap fights, maybe even a secret handjob - all things far more likely to happen in the backseat.

And then I got sad.

Think of what being in the backseat means! The backseat usually means that this particular vehicle is so crammed full of your friends, that you've got to use the auxiliary seating compartment in the back! (On certain occasions it can mean you're in a limousine. And, seriously, how many of your greatest memories are from times when limos are involved?)

I got sad because I realized it's been months, maybe even years, since I've spent time around enough of my friends to warrant us all being crammed into one car. Don't get me wrong, we've all been around each other, but we all take seperate cars, show up at seperate times, and it's usually for seperate singular activities.

These days we all meet at the predetermined location five to zero minutes before we're supposed to get there. Nearly as many cars as there are bodies. We all exchange pleasantries, handshakes, high-fives, and hugs - but it quickly ends as the movie/show/Superbowl/concert is about to begin. At event's end, there is some discussion of letting the good times roll, but the good times quickly check the real times on their cell phone, and one by one - the good times roll out the door - and back into their drivers' seats. Drivers, after all, are wanted.

Long gone are the days when we go out together, get drunk together, eat together, and pass out together. Long gone are the days of the Vegas road trip. Long gone are the days of hanging out early, staying all day long, without a predetermined exit time.

Long gone are the days of riding in the backseat.

The good news is this: We're all the drivers, we're all the lead dog, the scenery constantly changes, and no one's taking us anywhere we don't want to go.

Drivers wanted?

I just want a ride in the backseat. I'll even take bitch.

3 Comments:

Blogger Joe said...

I know. I can't even believe I HAD tickets to a Carrot Top show, let alone go BACK for them.

1:31 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thanks for making my drive home from work even more depressing than normal, I didn't even know that was possible.

3:16 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I know a certain bolt thrower who actually had a WORSE time sitting in the backseat than the two people sitting in front. And, as a result of this backseat passenger's untimely decision to simply remove his jacket, was jailed by the "loose lips" of the two frontseat passengers who, according to your blog, were having a terrible time? On the contrary, those two front seat "rats" had a BLAST as they volunteered incriminating information to the local authorities.

8:00 PM  

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