GROWING UP IN THE FIFTIES, I naturally loved cars. It was almost genetic. My first car was a 1954 4-door Ford. The back seat itself was bigger than our back yard. As a high school senior, I proudly drove it to school and often chauffeured friends. It bore only a faint resemblance to the cars hitting the market today. It had crank windows. It had a carburetor. It had no seat belts. It had tube tires with white walls. In my seventeen-year-old eyes, it was a luxury model. Driving has always been a pleasure, a way for a powerless kid to be in control of something large. It didn’t have cruise control, of course, but even today, when my car does have cruise control, I refuse to use it. I want to maintain control at all times. Most people probably feel that they are a good driver but, statistically speaking, that may be arguable. As far as driving ability goes, the great George Carlin pointed something out. He said: “Have you ever noticed that anybody driving slower than you is an idiot, and anyone going faster than you is a maniac?” If I thought back over the years, I couldn’t name all the cars that I’ve owned. Even though I liked them all, my favorite car was always the next one. You don’t have to be a mechanic to love cars, even though you may not have any idea about their innards. I don’t understand cyberspace, but I travel there every day.
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As we approach Ostomy Awareness Day on October 7, we want to hear about your plans to celebrate the ostomy community!
For ideas on how to get involved, take a look at our activities.
For ideas on how to get involved, take a look at our activities.