So my daughter was just learning how to drive — several years ago now — and it fell to me to ride in the passenger seat during some of her early driving forays.  I remember thinking at the time that there couldn’t be too many things in life scarier than riding in a car with an extremely inexperienced driver.  “No, the brake! the BRAKE!!!”

Maybe sucide bombers are scarier.  And urinary catheters.  But there aren’t any roller coasters that can compete.

Within a very short time, however, she became an exceptionally good driver, and I was amazed at how safe I felt while riding with her.  But now I was thinking, “Is she just driving this way because I’m in the car with her?”  (Her mother, as a teenager, never seemed to be happy when all four of her wheels were touching the road, or the grass, or the sidewalk, or whatever, at the same time.)

Anyway, my daughter and I were both driving standard transmissions (i.e., “stick shifts”) around this time, and I began to notice a huge difference in our driving styles that caused me to reevaluate my own driving:

I had always preferred to stay in lower gears for as long as possible in order to maximize acceleration.  You know … stay in first gear until you’re going about 60 mph, and the tachometer is only one inch into the red zone, and the engine sounds like a blender on the “pulverize” setting, then quickly change into second, third, fourth.

My daughter, by contrast, and from a dead stop, would stay in first gear just long enough to get the wheels barely turning.  She would switch into second gear at about 2 mph, into third at about 5 mph, and into fourth at about 10 mph.

(I’m exaggerating a little.)

She also slowed way down for turns and just did everything very … safely.  As her passenger, I felt secure, and, to my surprise, the car seemed to be happy with the early shifting pattern.

I think that’s when I started to make a number of changes to my own driving habits that, while possibly hastening my inevitable role as an “old man,” have definitely turned me into a safer (and friendlier) driver.

So now, naturally, I have become a self-righteous critic of people who drive too fast.

(Don’t get me wrong.  I still drive the speed limit plus 5 or 10 percent, depending on the flow of traffic, of course.)

So you might hear me saying to some fast-driving person, “You’re endangering yourself and others unnecessarily.”

Or maybe, “At the most, you will only gain a few minutes at your destination.”

Or, “You spent all this money to purchase a car you love.  Don’t you want to maximize and savor the time you get to spend in it?  Slow down and smell the roses!”

To which they reply, “Driving fast is half the fun of driving!”

At this point, I have no hope of winning the argument.  Why?  Because I use this exact same point whenever people tell me I should eat slower:  “Eating fast is half the fun of eating!”

[Senseless change of subject here.]

“But it’s hard on your digestive system.  You should chew your food until it’s basically liquified.  Only then should you swallow.”

“I’m supposed to avoid as much processed food as possible, yet you’re telling me I should turn my teeth into a food processor.”

“If you chew sufficiently, you will be forced to eat more slowly, and your stomach will better be able to signal when it’s full, so you won’t over-eat.”

“Is that a fact?”

“And if you continue to eat large burgers in three bites without chewing, you’re going to choke!”

“I’m comforted by the fact that one in every four Americans has successfully performed the Heimlich Maneuver.”

“What!”

“I heard it on ‘The Power of Ten,’ so it must be true.”