Sunday, January 10, 2021

"You Just Gotta Watch Out for Ol' Geezers Pulling a Boat"

That's how an old-timer described his feelings after a couple of things happened in the span of only a couple of weeks.

"First, I ran over my mailbox," he explained. "Then, while backing the boat into the driveway, I ran into the frame around the garage door. I'm beginning to think I'm a hazard looking for a place to happen. Now, there's a bit of a hole in the door frame of the big garage door, but at least there's no damage to the boat or prop...as far as I can tell. Nothing seems to be safe the past couple of weeks," he concluded.

One thing is certain: There is no set age when all old-timers start seeing their skills--whether it's fishing, driving, or whatever--slip a little. The main thing is that we all remain alert for some of the typical symptoms and, when that occurs, begin making adjustments...or wish that we had.

It's been a lot of years now, but well do I still remember when the time came for my brother and me to ask for our dad's car keys. Both my brother and I had seen the progressive downturn in his driving abilities. It began with a minor bump here and there of other vehicles.

And then there was the one occasion when I had gone home on leave, and Dad and I had planned a day's bass-fishing outing. As usual, we took his old school bus that he used for his carpenter work, vacations with Mom, and all of his fishing. I had a bird's-eye view that morning as Dad pulled up to a stop sign, then turned the corner too closely and scraped the side of his bus in the process. I asked him if he knew what he had done, and he said "no." He also said he didn't believe me--even after I pointed out the scrape marks to him once we arrived at our destination.

The day of reckoning finally arrived when I got a long-distance phone call from the sheriff's office in my hometown, saying that a town local had witnessed Pop take out a whole length of steel-girder railing near the city park...and just keep driving. The sheriff's rep told me that they were going to strip him of his driving privileges if we didn't, so I assured him we would take care of the matter right away.

Taking his keys and driver's license was one of the hardest things my brother and I ever had to do. Dad didn't fight us. He immediately handed everything to us...but noted that he didn't care, 'cause he would just keep on driving. To make sure that didn't happen, we sold all of his vehicles, deposited the money in their bank account, and explained why we had taken that action.

Bottom line: Some folks are lucky enough to retain their driving privileges right up to the end, but aging forces others to relinquish those privileges. If the latter aren't capable or choose not to see the writing on the wall, it's often family and/or friends who get that unenviable assignment.

Whether the old-timer in the opening of this post had to give up his driving privileges is anyone's guess. He may have just been having a streak of bad luck.

This much I know: I recognize the fact I have no business towing a boat down an interstate any longer. That's why I limit my fishing trips locally. And the day very well may come when I'll have to downshift again. If/when that time comes, here's hoping I don't go kicking and screaming.

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