I read the other day that 20% of Canadians are afraid to ride in cars
driven by
their spouses. (Source: "The Oregonian," reprinted from "The Ottawa
Citizen.")
One-fifth of Canadians are afraid to ride with their spouses? Then I
asked
myself what the figures might be here. I got a notebook and went down the
street to my neighbor Reno's place.
"Hey, Reno," I said, "are you afraid to ride in a car your spouse is
driving?"
"Can't say," Reno replied, "I never let her drive."
"But what if you broke a leg or had a stroke, or something; would you be
afraid to ride with her in an emergency?"
Reno pondered this, but couldn't seem to grasp it.
"Couldn't they just fly in a helicopter and pick me up?"
Reno had never really answered the question, but he was so baffled by it
I
decided to move on.
I went over to Tyler's, where he was raking the lawn.
"Tyler," I said, "I got a question for you."
"Let's just step into the garage," he said, "I don't like talking on the
lawn."
We went into the garage and sat down on some lawn chairs. Tyler shut the
side
door and pulled a couple of jelly glasses off a shelf. He went to a red
can
marked "Gasoline/2-cycle oil, do NOT use in mower." He unscrewed the top
and
poured a couple of fingers into each glass. He handed me one.
"What's your question?" he asked, taking jolt and reacting like a man
who's
touched a high-tension wire. I set my glass down (frankly, I would prefer
the
gas/oil mix to the potation Tyler favored).
"I read that 20% of Canadians are afraid to ride in cars driven by their
spouses. I want to know how you feel about it...."
"I wouldn't want to ride with no Canadians," Tyler said, "they drive on
the
wrong side of the road."
"No, no," I said, "they drive on the same side of the road we do."
"Ain't they English? Ain't they a part of England?"
"No, Tyler; they're an independent country."
"Since when?" he continued, suspiciously.
"It's been a while."
"Nobody told me," Tyler complained.
"What I want to know," I said, "is whether you're afraid to ride in a car
your
wife is driving."
"What choice do I have?" he lamented, "She's gotta be in total control;
she
won't ride in a car I'm driving, but it ain't fear - she just can't stand
not
being in control...."
I could see that my informal poll was not going anywhere. I noted with
alarm
that Tyler had gotten down an old, ratty-looking letter sweater he'd been
awarded in high school for his football prowess. I could sense than with
another belt from the gas can, he would likely launch into his school's
fight
song (which bore a striking resemblance to "On, Wisconsin").
"I gotta go, Tyler," I said, "but thanks for the drink."
Tyler seemed to regret losing his audience: "Wait a minute! I remember
who
those Canadians are! They're the ones whose cops wear 'Smoky Bear' hats
and red
coats! They ride around on horses and sing!"
I wonder how "The Ottawa Citizen" conducted its poll.
Dick Monagahn lives in Vancouver, WA and is a regular contributor to "The Tale Spinner", a newsletter published by Jean Sansum. To subscribe to this weekly newsletter, send an email to Jean at Jeans@mindlink.bc.ca.
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