THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, December 17, 1995 TAG: 9512130041
SECTION: REAL LIFE PAGE: K1 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: HE SAID, SHE SAID
SOURCE: KERRY DOUGHERTY & DAVE ADDIS
LENGTH: Medium: 85 lines
KERRY SAYS:
Well, Dave, I see Bill Clinton gave you and all American men an early Christmas present this year. He signed a bill ending the 55 mph speed limit.
My husband rarely gives Clinton credit for anything, and would probably say Bill did it because he remembers when there was no speed limit in Moscow during the Vietnam War. Still, he's really thrilled.
Steve can't wait to fire up that turbo unit on his car. I think he's been using it to store gum and Snapple up to now.
Maybe it's because I drive an 8-year-old truckmobile with ripped upholstery and a top cruising speed of about 50, or because my car is usually weighted down with Oreo-crunching ankle-biters who drool on the windows - but I can't understand this need for speed.
I think it's just another guy thing, Dave.
Most women I know just want a car to take them where they're going. We often travel with a gaggle of kids strapped into the back, so we drive carefully.
When I drive to work, it's after getting two children dressed and fed and off to school, so the 20 minutes or so in the car is the time I need to collect my thoughts and calm down before facing the likes of you.
I can't imagine wanting to break the sound barrier to get to work in the morning.
Same goes for long-distance trips.
At Thanksgiving we drove 600 miles, round trip, to visit my parents. While I suspect Steve would have liked to shave an hour off the drive by whizzing along at 90, I enjoyed the chance to actually talk with my spouse - a guy I pass in the mornings as I'm whirling around in that crazed they're-almost-late-for-the-bus state.
Like many couples, we have too little time together. We go our separate ways every morning and find ourselves with just a few exhausted minutes together at night.
Long road trips are our chance to have conversation uninterrupted by doorbells, phone solicitors and other distractions.
I don't know why, Dave, but I just have this feeling that the ``sky's the limit'' rule on the roads now is going to interfere with family time.
Somehow I can't get Steve's attention when he's gripping the wheel and in the throes of white-line fever.
DAVE SAYS:
Your ankle-biters must be a lot better travelers than most, Kerry. The best argument for no-limit highways is that if you drive faster than the speed of sound you can't hear all that whining in the back seat.
Be honest. Wouldn't you like to take just one trip in the car without hearing ``Are we there yet?'' and ``He's making faces at me!''
Not to mention that old favorite, ``He's doing it again!''
Few cars built these days actually will break the sound barrier - I think the '65 Pontiac GTO was the last. But I've found you can get the same result by driving exactly 106 mph with the window cracked an inch or so. It creates a howling sound that will drown out the kids, which doesn't matter because the G-forces alone will jam their cute little heads so tight into the car seat that they couldn't utter a squeak if they tried.
All right, all right, I'm avoiding the point. And that's because you're right. Men drive too fast. Especially when the family is on board.
If we didn't, y'all would force us to pull into every rest stop, every Stuckey's, every McDonald's and every Pet-The-Reptiles tourist trap between here and wherever we're trying to go.
You doubt me? Have you ever seen an unmarried guy with an ``I Visited South of the Border'' bumper sticker on his car? The defense rests.
Men, who are famously good at mathematics, know that each passenger in the car costs exactly $17.27 cents each time the car stops. That is the price of one tank of gas for the driver, plus a cheeseburger, fries, a cold drink, and a rubber tomahawk or an ``it's snowing upside-down'' paperweight for everybody in the back seat. And two pounds of genuine Pennsylvania Dutch creamy-nougat candy for Mom.
Do the math, Kerry. As a family of four, each rest stop costs you and Steve exactly $69.08. At that rate you could blow the kids' college fund on a one-way spin down I-95.
Steve is a fiscal conservative, so his only defense is to drive so fast that all those billboards go by in such a blur that Evelyn Woods herself couldn't read them.
Trust me, pal. He only has the family's best interest at heart. by CNB