Auntie Charo's Soapbox

I'm sorry, it may seem like another lifetime ago when I was eighteen years old. It seems like another lifetime ago when my son with the twins was eighteen and the daughter out of college was eighteen and as I write this, I still refer to them as my babies. When I visit them, I worry about them driving. Our 18 year olds are really babies, sure, they smoke, do grafitti and act smart and do macho stuff but in between the ears, they're babies, especially when they get behind the wheel of a vehicle. They turn those damn radio/noisemakers on so loud that they can't hear their own thoughts, let alone an emergency vehicle needing to pass.
I suggest that before a parent allows their precious(and I mean this in a loving and caring way) child the keys to the car along with the first driver's license that the child put together an obituary, picture and all.
The obit should include the child's photo, his name, his date of birth, who his parents are, who the people are that will survive him should he die in an accident while in this car that he's driving. He/she should put down where his funeral will be and where he'll be buried. After he's done with the obituary, he should be taken outside and introduced to the vehicle not as a means to get to and from places to have fun but as a possible way to kill or be killed...I would then drive to the Roadside lot in Harmon and point to the various cars that look like Matchbox toys that some giant squished only this time there was a human being inside that was squished to death inside what used to be a nice car.
Sorry parents, we're just as much to blame as our children when it comes to crashes......and deaths on the highways. When we don't care where they are, it usually means we also don't care how they drive....which usually means they speed and we know what happens when our kids speed.
I actually hated driving when I turned sixteen. There were more rules having a car then there without one. There weren't cell phones then(it was after the carabao carts and after the Model T's)and it meant I had to phone home once an hour and forget being grounded for a week...no such thing. In my day, it was for months...so you can be sure, I called before the hour was up...and when my own children drove, they had the same rules. I thought they'd hate me and Kiku and maybe secretly they did but they survived. I guess if I made them do the obit thing they would have turned me into Child Protective Services but I still think it's a good idea!