Near misses and dodged bullets

'Tis the time of year when stuff happens – and not the kind of stuff anyone looks forward to. Most people have stories of an ailing parent or family member. Car accidents seem less accidental and more destined, especially with mobile-device-using drivers on the road. And there's always the unknowable and unexpected. If you’re lucky, the outcome is nothing terminal, chronic, or expensive to fix.

For me, last week seemed the perfect storm of potentially bad stuff happening. Respiratory symptoms recurred that should have been long gone. Friends reported strange ailments. Elderly moms (mine and others’) required immediate medical interventions. And our sports car took off on its own.

After a few worrying days, most things returned to near normal. Medical consultations occurred. Conditions  stabilized. And our car was successfully extracted from the neighbor’s backyard.

Oh, I guess that last one needs some explanation. It helps to know that my husband has lusted after this particular model sports car since age 14. Finally, in 2012, we bought a gently used 2005 Porsche 911. My one stipulation was that it be his everyday car. On Thursday he drove it to the store. Upon returning he asked: “Do you want the good news or the bad?” That’s never a good opener, and I opted for the good news. “No one got hurt.” The bad news? He had to show me.

I followed him into the garage, and I kept following him down the driveway, through the yard between two neighbors, down the terraced backyard of one neighbor, and to the creek bordering the local farm market. There it was. The Porsche. Looking perfect, but perfectly stuck in a ditch.

Funny thing about emergency brakes; when they fail, they cause their own emergencies. My husband had parked the car in the garage, set the brake, got out, and backed away. The car also backed away, slowly, on cat’s feet. My husband saw what was happening, but – luckily – didn’t make matters worse by attempting to stop a moving car.

He ran alongside until the car outpaced him. Then he watched it hop a curb, scamper down the neighbor's sloping lawn, and settle in the creek bed. It took 24 hours, three tow trucks and their operators, a winch, and the kindness of neighbors to get it unstuck. The professionals parked it safely on the flatbed and towed to the shop where the claims adjuster could have a look-see. Our insurance company, State Farm, couldn’t have been more responsive and even nice about the whole thing. And the neighbors were appropriately astounded and amused at our predicament.

We were lucky. Things could easily have gone sideways. Or, as the Brits say, pear-shaped. The car could have hit someone or something. It could have flipped or landed in the neighbor’s living room. Instead, it just went for a wander.

I consider last week one of near misses and dodged bullets. Things could have been a whole lot worse in a number of different ways. But they weren’t. And for that, I am truly grateful


.

The ultimate driving experience is behind the wheel

I am now the proud owner of a brand new and increasingly obsolete horseless carriage. At least that’s what I fear as technology marches on.

While my car has the latest “innovative control concept,” with “intuitive and interactive” functions, it has me at the steering wheel. And, apparently, I am soon-to-be outdated technology. At least that’s the plan in a future that aspires to autonomous cars, also known as driverless or self-driving cars.

I already had one step in antiquity, with my preference for manual-drive transmissions in a world of automatics. Recently, a parking-lot attendant told me he was impressed I drove a manual. I was impressed with the poor timing of his remark, having just parked at a funeral home to bid farewell to a beloved aunt.

No matter. He may someday be as obsolete as me, once autonomous cars hit the road. And it may happen sooner than later, considering all those investing and developing the technology. Among the short list of players are Google, General Motors, Tesla, Apple, Mercedes-Benz, and Audi.

Just this month, driverless cars gained the same legal status as a human driver. No, I didn’t make that up. The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration responded to a letter from Google asking for clarification on the word “driver.” The answer included, "If no human occupant of the vehicle can actually drive the vehicle, it is more reasonable to identify the ‘driver’ as whatever (as opposed to whoever) is doing the driving."

I don’t know what’s scarier. Sharing the road with human drivers prone to texting, applying makeup, shaving, and reading while driving, or relying on technology to never fail while barreling down the highway.

Maybe I’ll be more eager to give up the driving reins when I’m too old to navigate safely on my own. But that’s down the road a ways.

Until then, you can find me in my sport sedan, stick shift in hand, enjoying the ultimate driving experience.

 * * *

March 1 UPDATE: "Google says self-driving car hits municipal bus in minor crash"

Shiny side up, pointy end forward

I’m aware of the irony in going to the Philadelphia Auto Show. We get in our own perfectly wonderful car. We navigate city traffic, where it’s stop-and-go because of all the cars. We jockey for parking, surrounded by a garage facility packed with cars. Then we pay an admission price so we can see more cars.

Ah, but these are shiny, new cars. And my husband is an autoholic. Here, we can touch all the buttons, sit in the seats, and breathe in that heady new-car smell. The Auto Show is even advertised as "a giant metal petting zoo."

My 2011 GTI is now last year’s model. It’s old news, even though there’s only 5,000 miles on it. Already my husband is on to the next new thing, and I think those Mini Coopers are awfully cute. But if past performance is any indicator of future buying patterns, I’m sticking with the GTI for the long haul. I held onto my last car, my beloved BMW 3 Series, for 13 years (and only 80,000 miles).

Considering that my husband just got his dream car last month – a sports car he’s been drooling over since he was a teenager – we’ve got our wheels for the foreseeable driving future. We just have to keep them on the road and safe from wacky, distracted drivers who have cell phones in one hand and hot coffee in the other.

As my husband promises every time he climbs into his 2005 Porche, he’s keeping the shiny side up, pointy end forward.

Car Sense

It's been three weeks now, and I'm still getting used to my new GTI. It's not as easy as "sign and drive," as Volkswagen would have you believe.

First you have to figure out where everything is...how to turn it on...and, even more important, how to turn it off. Fog lights? Who knew you had to pull out the push knob?

Of course there's the owners manual, but wading through all the sidebars of warnings makes for disjointed and annoying reading, while limiting sustained comprehension.

Some differences between now and the last time I bought a car, in 1998:

• A seat heater with three settings: on, really warm, and ouch.
• A manual transmission with six gears. I learned to drive when three was the norm; what do I do with the leftovers?
• A stick shift with "hill hold," so you don't slip backward on hills when getting into first gear from a dead stop. It's a verrrrrry nice feature that I often forget about while I'm feathering the gas and clutch.
• A keyless entry system -- another wonderful feature because I can open the door without routing through my pocketbook for the key. I just don't trust the car not to lock me out with my pocketbook (and key) inside it.

I'm sure that I'll eventually learn every nook and cranny of this new car, just as I did my 12-year-old BMW. In the meantime, I'm having lots of fun just winging it.

Hands-on driving

I’ve been driving a BMW for more than a dozen years. That’s not to brag; it’s the same car. I got in two jobs and a career change ago.

Still, I’ve put less than 85,000 miles on it, mostly because my commute has shrunk from across state lines to down the hall.

It’s the classic story of a gently used car owned by a little old lady who only drives it around town.

Now it’s time to part ways, as I take ownership of a 2011 VW GTI on Friday. The old Bimmer has a lot of life left in her, so I uploaded a page to the Web to tout her qualities. Now I'm responding to inquiries.

The only sticking point so far has been the stick. Yes, it’s a manual transmission. A stick shift. Four on the floor.  (Actually, it’s a five speed.)

And that’s an issue.

So not only am I selling a car, I’m coaching people about learning to drive stick. Imagine that. Where are all the hard-core driving enthusiasts? The feel-of-the-road guys? The performance drivers? How have so many been lulled into automatics?

Used or not, my car remains one of the “ultimate driving machines,” according to BMW branding. It's a stick; my previous car was a stick; and my new car is...a stick.

Hard to believe so many people are missing out on the fun of real hands-on driving.