If you really put Rainman on the road I'm certain it wouldn't go well. You all saw what happened in the airport and I think a few honks of the horn would be enough to shut him down. But then again, I'm not as far down the autism spectrum as he is. Having your parents give you a ride everywhere is fun, right up until everyone else but you has a car. For me, driving began at 17. I naturally late bloomed on this one, too.
I think I may have been about to turn 17, the summer before, when I took the drivers education course with a bunch of my friends. Book smarts come easy to me, so the course was a joke, as was the computer test to get my permit. When it was time for the rubber to finally met the road, however, I became a little gun shy. I didn't have that 'rush' to drive like all of my friends. I was more casual about it, which goes along with my standard MO. My sister may have been the first person to take me driving, I think. We went over to the mills in North Andover and to the upper part of the parking garage. She showed me how the car worked and everything I needed to know. I was shaky at first, as every new driver was. It was a fun start to learning a life skill. After a couple times we took it onto the open road. I still know the feeling of seeing and going through my first yellow light. I was past the point of stopping so I just went through (made it with plenty to spare but my sister still told me to be careful) when I saw the flash of yellow. My heart did that sinking feeling in my chest and fear came over me. I was fine after that but it still resonates with me today, mostly as a reminder of the scared kid I used to be behind the wheel.
Driving with my mom was also fine. One time, however, my dad showed up behind us in his truck and proceeded to ride my ass. He was honking and nearly up against the bumper and really being an asshole, for lack of a better word. I found it odd, but I am surprised by it; someone had to teach me about the real world way of the road. I thought about jamming on the breaks but I tend to respect the vehicle I'm in, unless its a rental.
I didn't necessarily learn to drive with dad as much as anyone else. He did his part, though, mainly by barking orders at me while I practiced turning in the driveway. There were obstacles in the way, namely other cars, but he wanted me to navigate backwards and forwards to park as best I could. I had the window open to hear him and thought about closing it to drown him out. Honestly, this was like learning to ride a bike all over again and I could have without the tough love routine here. Eventually I figured it out, much to his surprise.
I must add here that when I was first diagnosed with AS when I was 16 that dad figured he would have to take care of me for the rest of my life. He said to my mom "Oh, no! How is he going to be able to drive a car". This proves two things. First, that regular people didn't know shit when it came to what their AS offspring were capable of. Secondly, anyone can learn anything, given a large amount of time. My mom only told me of his reaction a couple years ago and it made me laugh. After all it wasn't my ignorance on the line here.
Driving with my instructor Bob was also very valuable, as any road experience was for me. He was patient and let me know what was happening at all time, without being pushy. He had, and still has, no clue about my AS. He was the one who truly got me ready for my road test. Well, failure actually did that for me.
The first time I did a road test it was not the scheduled one set for my 18th birthday, but a sooner one because me and a couple other people threatened to sue the driving school for not getting us a test in the first place. So me and another girl Meredith, whom I still know, went to take the test one morning. We both failed, sort of odd, but that may have been because we threatened to sue. They said I blew a stop sign but if you look where the sign is, in the middle of a turn, you can go by it and stop, but I guess that wasn't the same thing. It should be noted that I don't blow stupid things out of proportion and I actually have the urge to go take a picture of the sign and its most dumb-ass location just to illustrate my point; I think I will. Anyhow, failure is failure. So I had to wait again until my birthday to take the test, at the end of the month. When I got there things didn't even get off the ground.
The DMV said to me that because I had taken a previous test, failing didn't matter, that it had erased the spot I was holding to take the test on my birthday. I was pissed, to say the least. When I did go back, October I think, I was ready. My dad urged me to take the platinum & diamond ring I was wearing off so that the cops wouldn't think I was some punk. I told him, against better judgement, that if "they were going to pull me over anyway I would be wearing this ring, so why take it off now". That was one of the few arguments I won against him and maybe he was seeing if I would fail so he could blame it on that, unjustly. As we pulled out of the parking lot things took a turn, literally! The previous test and all others I had seen were done in the residential area directly behind the DMV. We took a left out of the lot and into an area I had never been to! I had to cross the busy intersection a couple times, just so the cop had a better sample, and I did so fine. When it came to putting the E-Brake on and then putting it down, I bonked a little. I couldn't get it back up and after a minute of trying the cop jiggled it a little and it released. I was not penalized for that, but at the time I thought I would be. He told me I had passed and I thanked him before he left the car. I could have told dad to apologize about the ring comments but did not feel that was warranted at the time, I was too happy anyways.
The first couple times alone on the road my mom made me call once I had reached my destination. This was easy enough and I made it each time. I did, however, get into an accident a few months later and it spelled the end of that car for a while, then forever, but I'll get to that last part in a second.
I was driving down Mifflin Drive, not far from home, one March day in pursuit of my coach in my Infinity Q45 when I hit a patch of ice. It should be noted that the amount of horses pulling the car was substantial, as with any luxury car. The back kicked out and I went left, then fishtailed right, then left again as I skidded over a snow bank and into a tree that would collide with my passengers side. As I spun out of control I just accepted it, and just before impact I remember thinking "Well, I might as well watch the window blow out. I looked right just in time to see the glass explode on the seat next to me. I was safety glass, of course, so I didn't worry about being cut. I turned off the engine and got out of the car. I forgot my cell phone at home and asked the resident who's tree I had struck if I could borrow the phone. They were nice, my mother was not as understanding. She barked, "Where are you! Are you OK and why don't your have your own phone!" I think she began to cry, which is understandable in her panic, but I was the one not worried about anything except how long my car would be out of commission. She hugged me when she got there and dad also arrived. He was mad that my inspection sticker was out of date and that I could be sued for that (which didn't happen) and he ended up driving the car home.
You should have seen the passenger door: It had a huge dent, the exact shape of the three foot tree it had run up against, in its side. The frame, on the inside, had only bent about an inch. If it had not been a luxury car, pretty much built with a steel beam in the side, I'm sure it would have folded like a wallet. So I didn't have a car for a while, that was fine for now, but I still had to wait for the repairs; which almost got done. The thing with that was the guy doing the work was welding something on the side and then the entire dash board went up in flames. The car was ruined and with the salvage money we bought a 1997Chevy Lumina, black. This was both good and bad because I really loved the Infiniti Q45, but the amount of ponies under the hood made it kick out when it slipped, hence the accident. I told dad that after we decided to get the other car. Other than that my driving has been uneventful, save for a few fender benders, which is basically what everyone has to deal with from time to time.
So how am I at driving now? Well hopefully you know by now that Aspy's tend start off slowly and then get better and better until they are the best at something. I fit that mold. With my road vision, a version of 'spidey sense' I am convinced, I see everything. This is much akin to all the potential threats I look over as I enter a public place. I can even blankly stare ahead and just watch for changes, i.e. break lights or blinkers and adjust accordingly. I can anticipate problems and react in the blink of an eye. I tend to avoid traffic on the highway by putting myself where the cars are not, and if this means going 80 in the fast lane or blowing by an 18 wheeler then I'm fine with that. I was put to the most extreme driving test on the way home from Nashville, TN this past my with dad.
We were going through Virginia, the mountains, I think when I truly blinding rainstorm came upon us. As I have already said, I don't like it when people over exaggerate things, but this was the worst storm I have ever encountered in a car. To the left and right cars were pulled over, waiting for the storm to pass. Dad said that we should probably pull over but I gave him two things in response. The first thing was the 'Don't be a pussy look' and second was the verbal, "Don't worry, I got this". The truckers lead the way, and being professional drivers they had surely been through this many times. We were going 10-15mph through the rain with the wipers on full blast and meandering through the fog, did I mention there was fog, for about two miles when it began to clear, with cars staying off the road everywhere you looked. My dad couldn't believe I had gotten us through that. So, who's the better driver now? Is the the man who had been driving over forty years or his son; a kid with AS who had only been driving for eight and defied the stigma that people on the Autism Spectrum cannot and should not be behind the wheel of anything but a bumper car? I rest my case. You give me the challenge and I'll make a believer out of you, too.
Questions or comments?
I think I may have been about to turn 17, the summer before, when I took the drivers education course with a bunch of my friends. Book smarts come easy to me, so the course was a joke, as was the computer test to get my permit. When it was time for the rubber to finally met the road, however, I became a little gun shy. I didn't have that 'rush' to drive like all of my friends. I was more casual about it, which goes along with my standard MO. My sister may have been the first person to take me driving, I think. We went over to the mills in North Andover and to the upper part of the parking garage. She showed me how the car worked and everything I needed to know. I was shaky at first, as every new driver was. It was a fun start to learning a life skill. After a couple times we took it onto the open road. I still know the feeling of seeing and going through my first yellow light. I was past the point of stopping so I just went through (made it with plenty to spare but my sister still told me to be careful) when I saw the flash of yellow. My heart did that sinking feeling in my chest and fear came over me. I was fine after that but it still resonates with me today, mostly as a reminder of the scared kid I used to be behind the wheel.
Driving with my mom was also fine. One time, however, my dad showed up behind us in his truck and proceeded to ride my ass. He was honking and nearly up against the bumper and really being an asshole, for lack of a better word. I found it odd, but I am surprised by it; someone had to teach me about the real world way of the road. I thought about jamming on the breaks but I tend to respect the vehicle I'm in, unless its a rental.
I didn't necessarily learn to drive with dad as much as anyone else. He did his part, though, mainly by barking orders at me while I practiced turning in the driveway. There were obstacles in the way, namely other cars, but he wanted me to navigate backwards and forwards to park as best I could. I had the window open to hear him and thought about closing it to drown him out. Honestly, this was like learning to ride a bike all over again and I could have without the tough love routine here. Eventually I figured it out, much to his surprise.
I must add here that when I was first diagnosed with AS when I was 16 that dad figured he would have to take care of me for the rest of my life. He said to my mom "Oh, no! How is he going to be able to drive a car". This proves two things. First, that regular people didn't know shit when it came to what their AS offspring were capable of. Secondly, anyone can learn anything, given a large amount of time. My mom only told me of his reaction a couple years ago and it made me laugh. After all it wasn't my ignorance on the line here.
Driving with my instructor Bob was also very valuable, as any road experience was for me. He was patient and let me know what was happening at all time, without being pushy. He had, and still has, no clue about my AS. He was the one who truly got me ready for my road test. Well, failure actually did that for me.
The first time I did a road test it was not the scheduled one set for my 18th birthday, but a sooner one because me and a couple other people threatened to sue the driving school for not getting us a test in the first place. So me and another girl Meredith, whom I still know, went to take the test one morning. We both failed, sort of odd, but that may have been because we threatened to sue. They said I blew a stop sign but if you look where the sign is, in the middle of a turn, you can go by it and stop, but I guess that wasn't the same thing. It should be noted that I don't blow stupid things out of proportion and I actually have the urge to go take a picture of the sign and its most dumb-ass location just to illustrate my point; I think I will. Anyhow, failure is failure. So I had to wait again until my birthday to take the test, at the end of the month. When I got there things didn't even get off the ground.
The DMV said to me that because I had taken a previous test, failing didn't matter, that it had erased the spot I was holding to take the test on my birthday. I was pissed, to say the least. When I did go back, October I think, I was ready. My dad urged me to take the platinum & diamond ring I was wearing off so that the cops wouldn't think I was some punk. I told him, against better judgement, that if "they were going to pull me over anyway I would be wearing this ring, so why take it off now". That was one of the few arguments I won against him and maybe he was seeing if I would fail so he could blame it on that, unjustly. As we pulled out of the parking lot things took a turn, literally! The previous test and all others I had seen were done in the residential area directly behind the DMV. We took a left out of the lot and into an area I had never been to! I had to cross the busy intersection a couple times, just so the cop had a better sample, and I did so fine. When it came to putting the E-Brake on and then putting it down, I bonked a little. I couldn't get it back up and after a minute of trying the cop jiggled it a little and it released. I was not penalized for that, but at the time I thought I would be. He told me I had passed and I thanked him before he left the car. I could have told dad to apologize about the ring comments but did not feel that was warranted at the time, I was too happy anyways.
The first couple times alone on the road my mom made me call once I had reached my destination. This was easy enough and I made it each time. I did, however, get into an accident a few months later and it spelled the end of that car for a while, then forever, but I'll get to that last part in a second.
I was driving down Mifflin Drive, not far from home, one March day in pursuit of my coach in my Infinity Q45 when I hit a patch of ice. It should be noted that the amount of horses pulling the car was substantial, as with any luxury car. The back kicked out and I went left, then fishtailed right, then left again as I skidded over a snow bank and into a tree that would collide with my passengers side. As I spun out of control I just accepted it, and just before impact I remember thinking "Well, I might as well watch the window blow out. I looked right just in time to see the glass explode on the seat next to me. I was safety glass, of course, so I didn't worry about being cut. I turned off the engine and got out of the car. I forgot my cell phone at home and asked the resident who's tree I had struck if I could borrow the phone. They were nice, my mother was not as understanding. She barked, "Where are you! Are you OK and why don't your have your own phone!" I think she began to cry, which is understandable in her panic, but I was the one not worried about anything except how long my car would be out of commission. She hugged me when she got there and dad also arrived. He was mad that my inspection sticker was out of date and that I could be sued for that (which didn't happen) and he ended up driving the car home.
You should have seen the passenger door: It had a huge dent, the exact shape of the three foot tree it had run up against, in its side. The frame, on the inside, had only bent about an inch. If it had not been a luxury car, pretty much built with a steel beam in the side, I'm sure it would have folded like a wallet. So I didn't have a car for a while, that was fine for now, but I still had to wait for the repairs; which almost got done. The thing with that was the guy doing the work was welding something on the side and then the entire dash board went up in flames. The car was ruined and with the salvage money we bought a 1997Chevy Lumina, black. This was both good and bad because I really loved the Infiniti Q45, but the amount of ponies under the hood made it kick out when it slipped, hence the accident. I told dad that after we decided to get the other car. Other than that my driving has been uneventful, save for a few fender benders, which is basically what everyone has to deal with from time to time.
So how am I at driving now? Well hopefully you know by now that Aspy's tend start off slowly and then get better and better until they are the best at something. I fit that mold. With my road vision, a version of 'spidey sense' I am convinced, I see everything. This is much akin to all the potential threats I look over as I enter a public place. I can even blankly stare ahead and just watch for changes, i.e. break lights or blinkers and adjust accordingly. I can anticipate problems and react in the blink of an eye. I tend to avoid traffic on the highway by putting myself where the cars are not, and if this means going 80 in the fast lane or blowing by an 18 wheeler then I'm fine with that. I was put to the most extreme driving test on the way home from Nashville, TN this past my with dad.
We were going through Virginia, the mountains, I think when I truly blinding rainstorm came upon us. As I have already said, I don't like it when people over exaggerate things, but this was the worst storm I have ever encountered in a car. To the left and right cars were pulled over, waiting for the storm to pass. Dad said that we should probably pull over but I gave him two things in response. The first thing was the 'Don't be a pussy look' and second was the verbal, "Don't worry, I got this". The truckers lead the way, and being professional drivers they had surely been through this many times. We were going 10-15mph through the rain with the wipers on full blast and meandering through the fog, did I mention there was fog, for about two miles when it began to clear, with cars staying off the road everywhere you looked. My dad couldn't believe I had gotten us through that. So, who's the better driver now? Is the the man who had been driving over forty years or his son; a kid with AS who had only been driving for eight and defied the stigma that people on the Autism Spectrum cannot and should not be behind the wheel of anything but a bumper car? I rest my case. You give me the challenge and I'll make a believer out of you, too.
Questions or comments?
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