Purely a work of fiction my friends. In reality, I learned to drive from my brothers, David, Paul and Phil. In an old beat-up Ford pickup truck on the gravel backroads of Wakenda.

It took an hour to get ready,
even to just drive around the block.
First, he would check the oil, kick the tires,
tune the radio and set the clock.

Then he’d adjust all of the mirrors, 
check the wipers and wash the head light.
Not sure why he’d worry about it,
cause he could not see to drive at night.

He could not start any adventure,
and not stop at the liquor store first.
Had to grab a six of Budweiser,
he’d say, “so he did not die of thirst.”

He’d stop at the bottom of the ramp.
trying to get onto the freeway.
Then set his cruise control at forty,
his signal light flashing the whole way. 

You know he could not drive fifty-five,
but stayed right there in the passing lane.
Traffic backed up for about a mile,
wave his finger at all who’d complain.

Before he could make a right-hand turn,
he had to come to a complete stop.
Drove around the lot for an hour,
while mom went into the store to shop.