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Tuesday, 03 June 2008

A Canadian Senior’s Survival

By William Weatherstone of The Diesel Gypsy

I have completed 50 years and millions of miles over the road and lived to tell about it. When retirement came around, we left the big city and headed north to a retirement community. (Safety in the bush country)

We have been living here for better than eight years now. Driving around town can at times be a harrowing experience. I was happy not to have to compete for space in the big cities’ rush hours. Trying to get a dangerous load to it's destination without being dragged into a road rage situation, and possibly killing some one, or being killed.

You can relax in the North Country if you can dodge the moose and bear attacks from out of nowhere. There is a very good chance that you can survive those attacks, and live another day.

Lately, I have encountered the most horrendous and dangerous life threatening situations in my driving career. The dangers are greater than traveling on any turnpike or city street rush hours.

Senior Citizens Attacking (by car).

Just this morning, I was almost run down while walking down the sidewalk. I came up to a laneway and started across the entry and then something told me to stop. I did and a van came barrelling out of the lane and onto the street, almost hitting me, and cut another driver off to get into a parking spot. The driver could hardly see over the steering wheel. He had his head turned directly to his passenger and was yelling as if she were deaf.

He then promptly threw a disabled sign into the windshield and then proceeded to give her hell for something while speed walking to the store, ignoring the surrounding traffic. Scary!

Then on the way home from the little shopping trip, another white haired and half bald guy who could barely see through the steering wheel of the new Cadillac he was driving, sailed through a stop sign making a right hand turn in front of a car who had the right of way. The other car slammed on the brakes, skidded to a stop and the Caddy carried on as if nothing happened, leaving the other driver in the middle of the intersection screaming obscenities.

The one period in each month that I refuse to drive is when all the pension cheques come in. There is always a stampede to the beer and liquor stores. To drive on the streets at that time is worth your life. Other than the hazards of the roads around here, I wouldn't live anywhere else. Get these seniors away from a motor vehicle, and they can be a lot of fun.

Oh yeah, look who is talking here - a white haired, old senior ex-truck driver. Scary, right?

The North Country may have a few hazards, but I still think it is the best place to live.

POSTSCRIPT (a little injection of senior humour):
I've sure gotten old! I've had two bypass surgeries, a hip replacement, and new knees. I fought prostate cancer and diabetes. I'm half blind, can't hear anything quieter than a jet engine, take 40 different medications that make me dizzy, winded and subject to blackouts. Have bouts with dementia. Have poor circulation; hardly feel my hands and feet anymore. I can't remember if I'm 85 or 92, and have lost all my friends.

But, thank God, I still have my driver's license.

[EDITORIAL NOTE: Once again, the cupboard is nearly bare of stories. Time for any readers inclined to share yours to send them along.]

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 02:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post