they’re taking my father’s driver’s license next month. he has parkinson’s disease so little earthquakes rack his body and make life more fun than an epileptic in a window factory. this does not sit well with my father. not the parkinson’s disease, though he’s not happy about that either –but i mean the license taking bit. i’m not saying they shouldn’t do it. to accept a ride with my father is to tempt death. it is thumbing your nose at the grave. it’s akin to wagging your tongue at the grim reaper with your fingers in your ears saying, “na na na na boo boo, you can’t catch me.”

oh. but it can. and if you’re a passenger in my father’s vehicle long enough, it most likely will.

but that’s not the point. taking away his license to drive is cruel and unusual punishment. may as well ask for one of his limbs and he would gladly give it instead. a proud, independent southern gentleman whose livelihood once consisted of the driving of automobiles in younger, healthier days being told he can’t drive? pish! he says, all over that! (actually, he says something much more colorful, but it’s close to christmas and i’m trying to get some booty ova heah. so, i’ll paraphrase.)

what i’m hacked about is the fact that his is the only license they’re taking. you know who really can’t drive? christians! christians are the worst drivers ever. ever! if you’ve ever the misfortune to get stuck behind a bible thumper then you know just what i mean. they drive very, very slowly. always. i don’t know if it’s cause they think jesus is in the SUV next to them and they don’t want to get caught speeding in case that’s a sin moses forgot to cover on his rocks or something… or maybe they think they’re being courteous. you know, in case the rapture should happen suddenly. perhaps they think the second coming of christ is bound to happen on their way to the quik-e-mart and out of respect for all us sick, sick heathens who will undoubtedly be left behind the wheel of our cars, business as usual, they will drive extra slow so when their mini-van with the fish sticker is abruptly unmanned we won’t be injured too badly in the collision. afterall, they wouldn’t want us to die and go to hell before our time, missing the whole rivers turning to blood and mark of the beast fiesta now, would they? they’re christians afterall! they’re thoughtful like that.

they drive 35 miles an hour under the speed limit. they don’t use turn signals. or they use them incorrectly. they wait to complete a turn until there isn’t a car within a 300 mile radius…just in case, leaving me stuck behind them. they talk on their cell phones when they should be focused on their poor, poor driving — probably organizing their new church group stoning potluck. they run red lights. they forget to stop at stop signs. and you can always, always spot them by their little metallic fish or witty bumper stickers. yea, verily.

i’ll usually go out of my way to avoid being anywhere in the vicinty of a godophile. i see a car with a “praise 97.5!” bumpersticker and suddenly the back way home seems like a good idea. your boss is a jewish carpenter? i just remembered i need milk at the grocer. “think you’re perfect? try walking on water!” haha! okay. i will. i’ll go right now! as long as i’m not behind you at the next light.