There’s talk again of raising the driving age in the UK in an attempt to stop immature morons killing themselves. I guess the hope is that an extra year or two means that they will grow up and behave at least a little like adults (the majority of teenage boys don’t become mentally mature until at least another 10 years after their teens).
But spare a thought for the Americans. Over there, you’re eligible to drive from the moment you can breath until the moment when you can’t anymore.
Seriously, though, the Americans are having a major burn on the issue of teen road deaths and distracted driving. So it is strange that this article should appear in the Maryville Daily Forum.
The author boasts that her granddaughter (I think) was being taught to drive by her friend – she didn’t want anyone else to teach her: just her best friend.
Carla had a friend over. She wanted the friend to teach her to drive. (Why they just didn’t play with dolls, I’ll never know!)
The only vehicle available that afternoon happened to be Dad’s pick-up. Said pickup had a standard transmission — AKA stick shift.
I wasn’t about to have anything to do with this driving lesson. Oh, I could have taught my sister to drive; however, I valued my life and these young teenage girls didn’t have Dad’s permission to conduct the lesson, much less drive his prize pick-up.
So, I hid out in the living room. I don’t know what I was doing, but I should have turned the music up louder or hid out in a more sound-proof location. It wasn’t long before I heard “Bam, Bam, Bam,” coming from the driveway. What in the world?
Reluctantly, I went to the east window of the living room. There I saw Dad’s pickup banging into the garage door over and over. Inside the cab of said truck I noticed two teenage girls giggling for all they were worth.
I just went back to the living room, turned up the TV and hid out a little longer.
I don’t think it was necessary for Carla to learn to drive a stick shift anyway. Evidently not because I don’t think she ever learned.
Frighteningly, that teenager could have been allowed out on the road. Is it any wonder the USA has a problem if this kind of thing is going on? It isn’t funny. Tragic, maybe. Worrying, to be sure. But definitely not funny.
Then there is this story about how to choose an instructor. Remember that in some States you can drive at 14. The majority are 15, and a few 16.
Car crashes kill more teens than cancer, homicide and suicide combined, which is why choosing a good driving school could quite literally be a life or death decision. In fact, the Automobile Association of America (AAA) reports that although teens represent only 7% of the licensed population, they are involved in almost 20% of all fatal accidents. Scary stuff.
Yes. Very scary. Scary that 7% of the population is responsible for 20% of all fatal accidents. In fact, the word is “terrifying”, not just scary. It’s an unbelievable statistic.
If they want to reduce deaths amongst teens, then raise the age limit to one which corresponds to being out of nappies.