Roundabouts, Road Rage, and Don's Driving School

Day one on the Cape included a 5:30 am wakeup and 5K of running before the sun got too high in the sky. While the weather is typically cooler here, Chatham has not been spared the heat wave that is hitting much of the country this week.

While running on Main Street, it is clear that the citizens and visitors of Chatham take July 4th quite seriously. While Chatham's parade only kicks off at 9, the street was lined with chairs laid down by soon-to-be revelers dressed in their America 250 shirts, waving American flags, and silently muttering to themselves, "When the F is this parade going to end?" If you've never been, it's a long one. Just about every local organization and business has a float and it seems to go on longer than Roseanne Barr singing the National Anthem.

Chatham has a few roundabouts and it has become clear to me that either they stopped teaching how to proceed through a roundabout in drivers ed or some people skipped that lesson because I see people enter like a squirrel trying to cross a busy road. Stop, go, stop, honk. And no sign of Big Ben or Parliament at all.

One woman trying to enter kept giving people on the left the finger as they honked at her when she tried to proceed without having the right of way. She was so genuinely mad that sweaty old me stopped his run to explain that you yield to the people on the left. She then proceeded to give me the finger for mansplaining. I was literally trying to be nice and help her out. As my mother was fond of saying, you can't win for losing.

This reminded me of the time my father taught me how to drive. Now when the good Lord was handing out gifts, he bestowed on my father many. Generosity, endurance, and a strong work ethic to name a few. One thing he did not shower upon Donnie was patience, so learning to drive with him was a white knuckle experience. I've heard Navy Seals talk about Hell Week early on in their training to separate the wheat from the chaff. Well, while I'm no Navy Seal (I'm not even a barking seal), learning to drive with my father took a few years off my life. But here's the thing: I passed my driving test with flying colors. While I was nervous behind the wheel with the assessor and his trusty clipboard in my passenger seat, he was no match for my father.

My brother Jimmy, on the other hand, opted out of Don's Driving School. Instead, he went to Mia Motors, named after my darling sister Mia. He didn't fare so well. On the morning of his driver's test, Mom let him back out of the garage and within 3 seconds we were down one sideview mirror on our white Oldsmobile, later named The War Wagon for all the dents it accumulated after we turned sixteen. It was an omen; Jimmy failed his test and was immediately enrolled in Don's Driving School. He passed on his second attempt, though now will live one year less than expected.

The point is, someone taught me. That woman in the roundabout clearly had no Donnie.

So, what have we learned?

1. It doesn't pay to be nice. If you see a motorist in distress, think twice before helping them.
2. It pays to learn from someone who terrifies you. Fear is an incredible teacher. My father's lack of patience made me a better driver than any classroom ever could.
3. We should all take July 4th as seriously as the residents and guests of Chatham. It's not just any other day—it's a celebration of our Independence. So wave a flag, sit through a parade that never ends, and remember what it took to get here.

Happy Fourth, everyone. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a parade to sit through. I hear it ends sometime around Labor Day.