Everyone Else Sucks at Driving
Rule #1 of Driving (Things That Matter #19)
When I started teaching my kids to drive a few years ago, I had one golden rule.1 I called it Rule #1. It’s the one rule to live by as a driver, whether young or old. I still live by it. This is the one rule I might as well have engraved on a stone tablet and handed down from the passenger seat like I was Moses: Everyone else sucks at driving!
That’s it. That’s the rule. Pretty simple. Everyone else sucks at driving. Every single person. Every last one of them. I mean it: 100% of people on the road suck at driving. That’s the mentality you need to have every time you get in the car. The person in front of you, the one behind you, the one you can’t see yet because he’s coming in hot at 90mph on a crotch rocket from three lanes over. They all suck.
They don’t suck as humans, just drivers. They’re tired, texting, emotional, distracted, under-caffeinated, high on something, or just naturally gifted at being terrible at whatever they do. But sucking at driving, it runs in their family! It’s in their DNA. And your job as a driver is to assume that they and every single person you share the road with is a mistake waiting to happen. Because they are.
My kids would laugh when I said stuff like that. Initially, they thought I was joking. I wasn’t. They quickly realized I was dead serious. But for good reason: I love my children. What I don’t love nearly as much: watching them merge onto the interstate for the first time. That aged me at least a decade. My soul needed a jump and my trousers had a blowout.
So I did what any good dad would do: I gave them more rules. Rule #2: ALWAYS be checking your mirrors. Constantly. Not just the rearview, but both sides. All of them. Pretend you’re Jason Bourne escaping a hit squad. Know your surroundings. Know who’s creeping up beside you and who’s tailgating you because they think they’re late for a NASCAR tryout. There should not ever be a moment when you’re driving that you’re not checking your mirrors other than when you’re doing Rule #3. That’s the only exception.
What’s Rule #3? It’s the rule that should be printed on every teenager’s forehead: Always look over your shoulder before switching lanes. Always. I don’t care if your mirror says it’s clear, if your car starts beeping, or if you think you sense the Holy Spirit whispering, “Go for it.” You turn your little neck and check. That’s not just driving safety. That’s life advice. You never know what’s in your blind spot until it’s too late. Spare yourself the headache of having to exchange insurance with someone who owns five cats and wants to take you for every penny possible.
There were more rules. Of course there were, I’m a dad. No phone use at all while driving. No music that makes you feel invincible. No swerving to avoid cats unless you want to meet Jesus early. But those first three were the core. Michael Halcomb’s Sacred Driving Curriculum. But the point behind it all is this: the second you assume everyone else knows what they’re doing, you’re toast. Or worse, you become them.
Look, it’s not that I think I’m the only good driver. Okay, maybe I actually do. But I do know, other than my daughter now, I’m the only one who drives like everyone else is so bad at it they have no business doing it. I really should be the only one out on the road driving ever. And that mindset has kept me alive more than once. Defensive driving is just smart. It’s assuming the worst in and of others while trying not to become the worst yourself.
Honestly, it’s kind of like doing stand-up comedy. You step on stage and assume everyone else in the room is there to have a good time but also has the potential to ruin it. The heckler. The drunk. The guy who thinks he’s funnier than you and just got out of a divorce mediation. The woman who came just to laugh at her friend’s set and refuses to give you anything. They are like your fellow dumb drivers. And while you’re on stage, you’re hoping they don’t pull into your lane and try to upstage your act.
I just realized Rule #2, Check your mirrors, is also similar to comedy. How? You gotta read the room constantly. You have to know the vibe. You have to know who’s laughing and who’s not. (A Tip: If you can find the lead laugher in the room or the lead laughing table…engage them. They can help you get a room going.) You have to know when to hit the gas and when to slow down.
Why not try a comparison with Rule #3? Always look over your shoulder. Before you take a risky joke, look. Before you pivot into a new bit, look. Before you riff on that person in the front row who hasn’t smiled once, look. As with driving, the moment you stop checking your blind spots, that’s when things fall apart.
Driving and comedy actually yield some interesting comparisons. Both are exhilarating life experiences where you are constantly surrounded by people you need to be aware of. Both require awareness, humility, good instincts, and a tiny bit of fear. And both will teach you that the only way to survive is to assume the chaos is coming, and be ready anyway.
I taught my kids how to drive because I want them to live. But I also taught them because I want them to understand that life works the same way. Most people are not paying attention. Most people will merge into your life without signaling. Most people will get mad at you for honking even though they’re the one who cut you off. And your job is to stay calm, stay alert, and remember who you are. So, do just that, remember: Everyone else sucks at driving, but that doesn’t mean you have to.
For my other life principles, see these links: Bridge-Burning isn’t Always Bad; Laughter is Greater Than Outrage; Beating Crap-Talkers; Dealing with Criticism; Loyalty is Everything; Don’t Let the Sun Set on Problems; Not Lusting After Victimhood; Advocate for Yourself; Revenge Is Impossible; Rejection Is Often A Gift; and, Not Lusting After Victimhood.
