OPINION: Thankful there was no texting when I was 16

They both happened within the first three months after I turned 16. One was in the school parking lot, the other at a busy intersection as I tried to turn left with the sun in my eyes and the radio blaring. I played drums on my steering wheel as I turned in front of a station wagon driven by an elderly woman.

Neither of us was hurt, but we were both stunned. And I remember knocking on the woman’s window on that bitterly cold day. She sat still with her hands on the steering wheel. The radio in my banged up car was still blasting Living Colour’s “The Cult of Personality.”

I don’t remember who called my mother. Cell phones weren’t in everybody’s pocket back then. But I remember thinking she seemed so forgiving when she arrived at that intersection. Now, I can see that she was surely shaken, probably more than me.

At what point do we lose our sense of invulnerability? Well, I guess some folks never do. But the youthful feeling of nothing-can-happen-to-me is both a thing we envy and fear. When you’ve been stripped of that happy-go-lucky attitude, you can’t help but miss it a little. But blind confidence fueled by ignorance is not the same as a deeper confidence that comes despite a clear understanding of danger.

At 16, I never felt I was a danger to myself or others. But I was. And if I had the tools of today, I would have been even worse. Even after the wreck at 16, it was quite some time before I realized the gravity of the situation, that the woman was OK, that I was too, that I needed to change my attitude.

I think of the cell phone in my pocket now. They are so convenient. When I broke down on Hwy. 316 one winter night years ago, I realized that I never want to be without one again. And had cell phones been around when I was 16, I could have begrudgingly saved my parents some worry.

But I realize, too, that had my friends communicated through texting, I would have done the same, even while driving. I wouldn’t have thought that much about it, because I didn’t think much of danger.

Now, I drive everywhere thinking of the next car. Will they respect the centerline? Some folks swerve way over in your lane. Some speed up a hill to pass. I think of the safety seats in our cars, how nervous I get at times with the children in the car. I think of methamphetamine, drunk driving, people searching for the pen on their floorboard, changing their radio dial, playing air drums.

Distractions have always been a part of driving. We never know who’s in the next car or what they’re doing. And these days, there’s a good chance the next motorist you meet is texting on a cell phone. I have only sent one text message in my life and I can’t imagine how anyone can operate a vehicle while they do this. Talking on a phone can be a distraction for sure, and it wouldn’t hurt my feelings if the law required you to pull over to make a call. Apart from dialing a number, speaking on a cell phone is an aural activity, but texting is a purely visual act. It requires too much attention from the eyes on the road.

It’s good to see texting while driving getting more attention lately as a public hazard. I think our state legislature will step forward and address this in January. It could prove to be one of the few slam dunk issues they face.

The roads are random. We can’t do anything but accept that. But we need solid rules to cut some of that danger. I’m glad my 16-year-old self didn’t have the option of texting while driving.

Today’s 16-year-olds don’t need it either.

Zach Mitcham is editor of The Madison County Journal.