Tonight I was talking to my dad and he told me they invented a car that will parallel park for you, via sensors and computers.
There's a great Talking Heads song on the album Naked called Nothing But Flowers about life in a post-apocalyptic world wherein old crap is reinvented into pastoral delight (This was a Pizza Hut/Now it's all covered with daisies) and we all miss our microwaves.
To the automatic-parallel parkers, I say: You must develop your post-apocalyptic skills! You need to understand basic physics and small engine repair! You need to know how to tie knots and pasteurize milk! You need to be able to walk long distances over uneven ground! And figure out which way north lies from the moss on a tree, and what root to chew to keep your teeth clean, and how to lance a blister so you don't get an infection!
You need to be ready to parallel park all on your own.
(You should also know I am an absolutely splendid parallel-parker.)
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2 comments:
I credit living in Kits for the mad parallel parking skillz.
Though I'm not sure I'm as good as I used to be, given that I haven't driven much in over three years.
You've got the skillz, you just need the desperation that hones all good parallel parkers.
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