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Another installment from our friend Robin Reif as she takes to the road on her own without her trusted driving coach Danny!

Passenger No More - by Robin Reif

The older I get, the less I believe in happy endings.  It's at the wedding that fairy tales tell you they lived happily ever after, not 20 years on when for better or for worse tilts toward for worse and marital bliss starts to sound like an oxymoron. It's at the rescue we rejoice as the Chilean miners end their ordeal, not five years later when the limelight starts to blind these accidental heroes who were used to working in the dark.  So if you're anything like me,  when I say this story has a happy ending,  you'll  have to suspend disbelief.

First the facts.  I took a week's vacation in East Hampton this August and, for the first time ever, rented a car on my own.  I'm sure that the Enterprise girl, a 20-something in full bloom, was stunned when my eyes welled up as she gave me the key.  I stood there like Rain Man, holding it up to the sun, turning it in my hand, struck with wonder that this object had been entrusted to me. I knew that when I turned it in the ignition, my life would change forever.

Waking from my reverie, I got my first look at the car.   Something was wrong.  Oh yes--no driving school logo!  I quickly calculated the implications.  With nothing to signal rookie-at-the-wheel, no one would keep a safe distance.  I'd be held to the same standards as any other driver.  In short, my wish to become a completely accountable adult had finally come true.  I was terrified.

I drove at geriatric speed from the parking lot, down the road til I hit Route 27 where I had to turn East into the far lane of the highway. This meant I had to cross the near lane with cars speeding West.  It was a little like trying to merge into a double-dutch jump rope at full speed - which I never could do.  Cars piled up behind me and I sensed their drivers growing edgy, urging me to make a move. But how?  When there was a gap in the near lane, there was none in the far lane.  My knuckles went white.  I tried to channel Danny, my driving teacher, but panic does not exactly grease the neurons.   Finally I thought: if I can get half way across the road, I can angle the car to merge but only  if some driver takes pity and lets me in.  "Leap and the net will appear" I thought so when I had the chance, I leaped  the near lane and...the oncoming car in the far lane slowed.  Chalk one up to the kindness of strangers!

The next day had its thrills and, well...spills.  En route to a 7 a.m. dance class, I had to merge from Springs Fireplace onto Three Mile Harbor Road. Looking over my right shoulder to enter the lane, I missed the Stop sign AND the biker headed straight toward me from the left.  He came careening forward, slamming the breaks, skidding and falling.

As he slowly rose, I could see "lawyer" written all over him.  He was one of those ultra- fit John Slattery types, blue eyes flashing ourage and malice as he levered up the most expensive looking bike I'd ever seen.   Sitting in the middle of the road past the Stop sign with a line of violently honking cars on my tail, I felt paralyzed as one wild-eyed driver after another pulled around me.  Needing to be sure the guy wasn't hurt or memorizing my license plate, I asked myself the ultimate question: "What would Danny do?" and came up with the bad news: Danny would never BE in this situation.  Finally, to my great relief, Mr. Sterling just bared his blindingly white teeth and rode away.  I moused my way onto Three Mile Harbor Road, was late for class, which, in the Hamptons, means you're shut out and out of the 35 bucks you had to pre-pay.

 Still,  for the most part, I loved driving in my car; my little house on wheels; my  private cocoon moving through the world.  Inside, I could do as I pleased - indulge a Jewish girl's guilty zeal for Early Church Music, roll up the windows and do primal scream therapy, sing Happy Birthday in Mandarin.  And my goal to be a role model to my nine-year-old was at least somewhat met.  I just hope that I'm a smidge more credible when I tell her "good job" than when she tossed it at  me from the back seat.

Beyond this, there were  moments of pure beauty,  especially poignant for passing so quickly.  On my last day, I was driving from the Springs to Amagansett.  Majestic maples, leaves brilliant in the late afternoon sun,  formed a cathedral-like canopy over the road.  When I hit the crest of the  hill, the line of trees ended and  acres and acres of golden fields came into view just as the trumpeter in a Haydn Concerto sent arpeggios soaring into the sky.  Ambushed by joy, my heart opened.  I was DRIVING!

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I just read an unbelievable statistic - 81,000 teenagers have been killed in car accidents over the past decade.

So I started thinking, what would that look like in other modes of transportation?

• 81,000 = 560 Boeing 737 crashing with no survivors.
• 81,000 = 40 Cruise Ships sinking with no survivors.
• 81,000 = 1246 Yellow School bus crashes with no survivors.
• 81,000 = 260 Amtrak Acela trains crashing with no survivors.

If these accidents really happened, wouldn't our Government act - and act quickly to end the carnage?  Of course they would. 

So why do we sit idly by while our kids are being killed on our roads - deaths that could be prevented by implementing Graduated Drivers Licensing across our country?  GDL is proven to save teenager drivers' lives without any question.

It's time we all step-up and ask our Congress and Senate to act now and pass The STANDUP Act (HR 1895/ S.3269).  Click here to send a note to your Representatives today. 

Our kids deserve better.

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Another installment from our friend Robin Reif as she learns to drive on the streets of Manhattan with her trusty driving coach Danny.

The Man-bot and Me - Robin Reif

We all know that deflecting blame with "so-and-so-made-me-do-it" goes down about as well as "the dog ate my homework"  or "I never got your message."  But when Danny told me a teen driver claimed his GPS told him to make what turned out to be an illegal left , causing a four car accident (no serious injuries). . . well, my heart really went out to the kid.

Fact is,  I too had believed with a perfect faith in the infallibility of those navagatrix fem-bots who, all silky assurance,  tell you to turn right at the light or bear left at the round-about.  Worse, I had secretly planned on a man-bot as a transitional object once I have to give up Danny.  And if it's possible for a man-bot to screw up, then on whom can I rely?
 
Ok, I know the bad news answer.  But it's still hard to imagine feeling competent enough to drive solo, make my own decisions, navigate my way, by myself, from here to there.

My performance still depends on the audience.  Yesterday, after beaucoup d' nagging, my boyfriend gave me the keys.  So, ok, they were to his brand new Lexus.  Psyched out by his scrutiny, I mistook the gas for the brake and accelerated up to a red light, lurching to a stop just short of an old man's back fender; later, when the BF ordered me into the right lane since I was too slow for the left,  I almost hit the shoulder.  If he ever rides with me again, he says, he wants a roll bar, six point harness and fire extinguisher.  I'd gladly throw in a Xanax.

Thing is, with Danny, I shine.  If the Heisenberg Principle boils down to : observing changes the thing observed,  I'd add the footnote that it depends on who's observing.  With Danny, I'm relaxed, show aptitude; I blossom under his gaze.

Yes, I know, it starts to sound creepy.  Danny is half my age, twice my height, not my father, brother or boyfriend; he's my. . .  driving genie.  On Wednesdays at six--after a stressed out, no lunch, clientzilla day - Danny arrives.  I slide in next to him, close the  windows, turn on the air, turn off my Blackberry, adjust the seat and mirrors and drive through the city I love in a cocoon on wheels.  Well, ok, sometimes the cocoon takes the mirror off a parked car (yes, this did happen a few weeks back) but, for the most part, it rolls merrily along.  And, all this  with a 6'5" man by my side, a man who is patient, gentle, occasionally saves my life, believes in me.
  
Driving without Danny. . . Oh, I get teary just thinking about it.  Actually no man-bot will ever take his place.  It reminds me of a photo of my friend's two year old, sitting on a stoop,  looking thoughtful and dreamy, blue eyes gazing serenely at the heavens and in his hand, an organic extension: his lamby - which he'll probably still be holding at his senior prom.   And I thought of...Danny.  I can't imagine driving without him. 

But I know the day will come when I will get my Zipcard and unlock some genric hybrid on a hot city street.  Alone I will slide in, adjust all the thingies, close the windows, turn on the air, turn off my Blackberry, and, in the silence, grow teary at the immense absense of my mentor, my guru, my guide. 

I will then pull myself together and remember why I did this in the first place, remember the urge for autonomy, the need to be a full adult who can get myself and my child wherever we need to be without relying on someone else; remember the quest to widen my world, to go places.
 
So on that day, at the risk of quoting my least favorite  president, I know that I must be the decider.  I will turn on the ignition and move on down the road with my man-bot, resolving that he can consult, but that I alone am Car-mander-in-Chief and will summon the courage to override him if I think he's steering me wrong.

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If your child takes High School Drivers Ed, he'll get an unrestricted drivers license at the age of 17.  That means driving whenever he wants, with as many friends as he wants in the car.

So why is this a bad thing??  That's how it was when we were young. And, let's be honest, it's pretty nice not to have to go out and pick the him up after the 10pm movie on Saturday night.

Well - here are the facts.  Texas A&M just released a study that shows driving after dark is now THE most dangerous situation teen drivers can be in - even more dangerous than driving drunk.

Each additional passenger in a car increases a teen driver's risk of a crash by 100% - 3 friends = 300% increased crash risk.  That risk is doubled again if they're driving at night.

Throw in Lady Gaga on Z-100,  some texting, a sing-along on the way home from the movie and it's a recipe for disaster.

That's why Graduated Drivers Licensing laws have been created - and been proven without a doubt to save lives wherever they've been implemented.  In fact, the teen accident rate dropped over 60% in the year after GDL went into effect here in New York.

With GDL, new teen drivers are restricted in the hours they can drive at night and the number of passengers who can ride with them.

We have GDL here in New York, but it only applies to teen drivers who go through a commercial driving school, not High School Drivers Ed to get their drivers license.

I guess the thinking is that somehow, HS Drivers Ed is more effective in creating safe teen drivers.  Well, the experts don't agree with that statement...in fact they say the exact opposite.

The Insurance Institute for Highway Safety (IIHS) says "HS Drivers Ed is not effective in reducing teen crashes."

But don't just take the experts word for it, ask any teenager who has gone through High School Drivers Ed here in Lower Westchester about their experience, and they'll tell you it's a joke.

Unfortunately, the risks on the other end are far from funny.  In the seven years we've been in Iraq, 4500 Americans have been killed on the battlefield.  During that same period of time, over 40,000 teenagers died in car crashes on roads in the US.

It's time for the New York legislature to close this loophole and insure that ALL our teen drivers are as safe as possible on the road.

Our kids deserve better.

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