Fractured Fairy Tales

Once upon a time in the state of Florida everyone could keep their drivers license. You could be 90 something, with cataracts, two hearing aids a stroke victim survivor (left side still not movable) tremors and a menagerie of other obvious ailments BUT you can still drive that car. That car that is the size of a small bus. When you drive by we can barely see the top of your head over the steering wheel. Perhaps that is the reason red lights don't impress you - you can't see them. The neighbors pick up their mail at the post office due to mailbox upkeep. You can only buy so many replacement mailboxes per year. Norberto's tree on the corner has stopped a few cars and has the paint marks to prove it. Two years ago my metal basket ball hoop on the left of the driveway became one of your victims. I have black marks on my white garage door - I have left them there as a reminder of your driving skills. Large deep crevices in Joe's yard from the fire hydrant incident stir scar his yard. Sally's new trash cans brighten the culdesac on trash day. Mine are wheel-less thank you Blanca.

Yesterday was a little over the top - actually i'd say it was over the sidewalk and (almost) into my living room. I'm relaxing after a hard day at the office reading the paper drinking sweet tea when BAM. Amazing there you are for a neighborly visit right in my front yard a stones throw from my picture window on top of my newly planted yellow rose bush. No need to ring the doorbell. The crunch of tires on my paver stones has alerted me that you have stopped by. Stopped by in that big blue buick. How you traveled from your house to my house across a busy street in that big blue buick without getting hurt is amazing. I lost a rose bush, several brick pavers, a concrete birdbath, my newly planted sod and a few herbs in plastic pots.

I will mention the incident to your son and hope he can convince you to STAY off the roads and out of everyones yards. Please give up your license because the state of Florida will never ask you to turn it in. You don't belong on the road on the sidewalk or in my front yard. Take a bus a taxi or ask me to drive you. Please!!!

And they all lived happily everafter - when Blanca stopped driving at 95.