I did it. After years of listening to various friends and family compare segments of my persona to ‘Driving Miss Daisy’, I watched it. It wasn’t what I expected. Namely because it starred neither Dame Maggie Smith nor Scottish funny man Billy Connelly. Apparently that’s Mrs Brown and it’s not even Maggie it’s Judy Dench, wrong dame and completely wrong story. I was nervous because I’d got this idea that Miss Daisy was somewhere between Hyacinth Bucket and Hitler. I thought essentially I was being branded a snobby racist, ouch. Thankfully not the case!
Like watching me, only old
The film actually starred Jessica Tandy. I’d never heard of her – much to Dadius Prime’s disappointment, I haven’t seen ‘Batteries not included’. Her driver, Hoke, is played by Morgan Freeman (legend). Yeah. I’m her. It’s as if parts of the script were written from my own words. Line upon line spilled out like watching myself, only I sit in the front seat and I’m not big on hats.
I’m not as direct as Miss Daisy. My husband is not my paid driver. It might therefore, be pushing it a bit if I said to him ‘you’re speeding, I can see it’ while he regaled in the joys of MPGs, Cruise control and my personal favourite altitude and incline (thankfully not on this car). I can however be heard questioning the speed, the route (I don’t do shortcuts, I do waiting for traffic to clear, short cuts are almost always long cuts), the visibility (lights, wipers, mirrors) and who doesn’t love picking a great parking space? ‘That’s a nice one’ is not something I thought I’d say about parking spaces.
I should be a traffic cop
I’m not sure where my ‘Miss Daisy’ attitude towards driving came from. I expect that it’s a combination of hearing about so many accidents, watching Traffic Cops for hours on end and having a baby in the car (nothing like a baby for inciting irrational worry). I think that I’m the only person who took, let alone passed a test. Walking around with the pushchair involves witnessing a shed load of bad/dangerous/illegal driving, I could make a fortune for the police if they gave me some marvelesque citizen-capturing-crims license.
For starters, no one sticks to the speed limit. There’s a few hundred in fines. Don’t get me started on the average speed check zones. Perhaps the definition of average needs clarifying in BIG FUCK OFF LETTERS at the start of the allotted stretch? No one stops at zebra crossings. Where do you stand on thank you’s at a zebra crossing? Thank you for abiding by the law?Apparently undertaking is fine, motorbikes (those stupid hairdryery ones or the ones for off roading) are a law unto themselves. I’m positive there’s rule where you stop if your side has an obstruction although I feel like I just made it up.
What is it about the road?
I have been known to get mad behind the wheel, not very Miss Daisy, not very Me. It’s generally because I’m
perfect right and they’re insane wrong. Something about the roads that makes us all very opinionated. Why do we have an attitude where by passing the test is insignificant? It’s deemed a hoop to before you can set your own rules in order to do it your own way. Surely driving should be one of the areas that’s not left open to interpretation? Would you expect a chef to just stop abiding by their health and hygiene training once they passed? Tricky…but no, you can keep your E.coli thanks. Put someone in charge of an ignition to two litres of petrol and half the time their test may as well have been a game of Grand Theft Auto.
People have killed each other over disagreements behind the wheel, lets get a bit of perspective. If it’s against the law, it’s wrong. I don’t care if you are late. Just for two minutes? Don’t care. Forget to put your glasses on? Not good enough. Only nipping? Nope. End of.