I have some serious reservations about these “driverless cars” you see all over the place nowadays: Tesla, Waymo, Hyundai, Uber, Google and others still under development. There’s concern that they may be vulnerable to computer hackers or some foreign government that disables the satellite that’s guiding it.
Last year, auto manufacturers reported over 400 crashes of vehicles with automated driver assist systems, including 273 involving Teslas. Makes me wonder how they would navigate the series of lane changes on Highway 18. Not to mention that the 350kw generator at the charging station uses 12 gallons of diesel fuel per hour to power them, and it takes three hours to fully charge a car to go 200 miles. That’s 36 gallons of diesel to go 200 miles. Not exactly environmentally friendly, eh? (Excuse me for sounding Canadian.)
Something else to consider…Since the “Googlemobiles” are designed to stay within the lines on the road or highway, what happens when there are no discernable white or yellow lines, like when the road is covered with snow or the lines have been scrapped of by a snowplow, eh? (There I go speaking Canadian again.)
You won’t find me inside or even near a driverless car anytime soon. It’s already scary enough when my wife is behind the wheel of the Mottmobile. It’s bad enough that I learned how to drive at Disneyland’s Junior Autopia, but my wife learned how to drive at Rose Hills Cemetery in her hometown of Whittier. At least she picked a location where she wouldn’t have to go far to be memorialized, nor would she worry about running over anyone, because most everyone there is already dead.
Not that I’m a bad driver, or anything like that, but after I got down on my knees and proposed to her back in ’73, this “drama queen,” my soon-to-be “child bride,” informed me that she wanted to be a Hollywood star and that I might have to wait a while before I could marry her. So, when I asked if I could drive her car, here’s what she told me:
She said, baby, can’t you see want to be famous, a star on the screen, but you can do something in between. Baby, you can drive my car, yes, I’m gonna be a star. Baby, you can drive my car, and maybe I’ll love you…Beep, beep ‘m, beep, beep, yeah. (“Drive My Car” – The Beatles – 1965)
OK, so that last part was total BS, and this drama queen readily accepted my proposal. And guess what? She’s still a drama queen. Perhaps, I should explain. For over 25 years, she directed plays at a middle school, where she taught others in the fine art of being a drama queen.
Baby, you can drive my car…beep, beep, ‘m, beep, beep, yeah.
Keep it flyin’,
Uncle Mott
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