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The Overage Driver
IN Rhode Island recently a state Senator proposed a bill making physical examinations mandatory, for drivers over sixty-five, with an eye toward removing these license holders from the scene. This viewpoint is prevalent in several other states. Apparently proponents of this thinking feel that our elder citizens are causing most of the accidents.
Old people who drive do so out of necessity. It is true they do not react quickly. And when oldsters do possess the temerity to travel on a high speed road, they tend to get in the way. The elderly person drives too slowly on throughways and continues this same speed in congested areas. No doubt, the so-called overage driver does contribute to the accident rate. Nevertheless, before we start passing restrictive laws against this group, it would be wise to look into other aspects of this matter.
It is questionable that old people cause auto accidents oftener than any other age group. Of course it can be argued that any reduction in the total accident rate is desirable, but the older person must have transportation. (Does this apply to the teenager?) Most public transit systems exist only in the large urban areas and even here leave a lot to be desired. If a retired person lives in the smaller city or town, there is no public transit system and he can not always afford a taxi to go shopping for necessities.
If we, as a society, can provide cars for teenagers (who need wheels only for pleasure) then we have no moral right to forbid the aged person from driving himself to market. Until such time public conveyance is readily available and economically practical for old people, we under sixty-five drivers should accept the fact that all driving is hazardous. Any additional danger imposed upon us by the old timer behind the wheel, however annoying, contributes little to the overall accident score.
Musings has, for this issue at least, been blessed with the work of a contributing writer. The following bit of whimsy may help explain certain aspects of the Gallic temperament.
Is It A French Trait?
by Doris Poirier Murphy
ALL my life I’ve been frightened of spiders, so much so that the mere mention of the word makes me shudder. Being the mother of two boys, I have been well exposed to frogs, snakes, white mice and almost anything that crawls or slithers. I have been able to endure all these forms with no more hysteria than the average woman. Now along comes a spider, and no wall is high enough to hold me or too smooth to gouge.
My husband, with complete understanding, has always come to my rescue whenever he has found me in this state. I have never been certain whether his concern or patience has been for me or his walls. But then, as he is my protector, I will never question him.
I am told by my good friend, the publisher of this booklet, who incidentally is of French extraction as I am, that fear of spiders has always existed among the French. I have no doubt whatsoever after talking with his wife (his protector) and viewing his scored basement walls.
In Quest of the Lean Look
AMONG people who know me it is generally agreed that my fighting weight is somewhat more than adequate. The snowbound days of the past winter caused me to gain even more avoirdupois. The additional tonnage caused some concern. After a lengthy conference with my better half, it was decided that along with dieting, exercise might help.
Being a bit beyond the prime, strenuous gymnastics were taboo. Also since my silhouette can best be described as a condition rather than a build, the possibility of performing contortions was remote. Brisk walking was selected as the exercise most likely to succeed. I would walk at night, less smog then. Of course I didn’t want to admit it, but I would be less conspicuous in the dark. Also, I told myself, there would be less cars on the road (we have no sidewalks in suburbia).
Where I live there are dogs; at night there are many dogs – loose! No problem, I would carry a cane. There was one in the closet, a hold over from an earlier medical milestone. A flashlight would be needed too, because canines see better in the dark than the genus Homo sapiens, even one with bifocals. My first sortie would be around the square in my neighborhood, which according to my car odometer is one and one tenth miles.
On the appointed evening I dressed in comfortable clothes, took my flashlight and cane and sallied forth. I went counter clockwise around the square which allowed me to go down a pronounced decline at the start and come home by way of a gradual incline. Always thinking! Although I neglected to clock my jaunt, the round trip was made in jig time. Upon entering the house my good wife quipped, “Back so soon? You quit didn’t you?”
Demoralization is poor balm for the inner man. What is needed here, I thought, is a review of my sense of values. Is it more important to have sylph like physical fitness – or tranquility?
In the kitchen I found half of an apple pie. (My wife makes the best apple pie this side of anywhere). Ice cream is the best topping for this. I disposed of this calorie super-charged snack and anchored it with two cups of coffee. After a shower I retired and dropped into a profound sleep such as comes only to the innocent. There’s a lot to be said for tranquility.
As for that weight thing, maybe I can think of a solution next week – or the week after.
To Arthur S. Hallock – I have a 6 x 10 Kelsey. The gooseneck is on the outside.
Calling All Letterpressers
Can anyone tell me;
Who makes plastic rollers?
What’s the address of American Type Founders?
Who else sells type cases and small orders of paper besides Kelsey?
Musings is published by Arthur R. Pelletier whenever he feels like it. 300 copies were printed for this issue, 230 of which were for distribution among members of the American Amateur Press Association and the balance for perusal by charitable friends. Address all compliments and complaints to Raynham, Massachusetts 02767.