Everybody knows...

Everybody knows…

I am not a great driver. However, I claim to be…most of the time. I don’t really know where it all went wrong. I think my parents were scared to teach me because I was the “baby” of the family. I passed my driving test with flying colors... Well, I think just about anyone can drive in a circle—which is what I did. It was a good thing they didn’t actually expect me to demonstrate my driving skills on the open road. At some point, I earned the nickname “Nascar Tatum.” I really don’t know what they meant by that, since I’ve never earned a speeding ticket. Knock on wood. But, that’s what they call me. Wrecks…I’ve never had one. Well, I haven’t as long as you don’t count the time I hit a telephone pole with my side mirror. Long story. It really came out of nowhere! But, for some reason, my parents didn’t believe me. There also might have been a ringing cell phone involved—but I can’t be certain. Before I moved to Valdosta, I lived in a small town and had never experienced Road Rage. I have now. Long trips have never really been my thing. I like to get where I’m going—fast. Who cares if the ride is slightly bumpy and somewhat terrifying? Whiplash does go away—I think. So, I guess this is sort of my forewarning…if you see me driving—it might be best to head in a different direction. Telephone poles do seem to jump out of nowhere when I am driving.