Dad Speed

My father loves to drive fast on the highway. He also feels the need to pass every driver he encounters, even if it means going over the speed limit. One day, he and I were driving from Sheridan, Wyoming, over the mountains to Thermopolis where I was about to receive an award for my years of volunteer service to nursing homes and other senior facilities. After several unsuccessful attempts to pass another car on a winding mountain road, I said, “Dad, there’s plenty of time. Take it slow.” I often heard him giving this advice to my younger brother when teaching him to drive, but coming to him from his daughter who never drove a vehicle in her life, he ignored it. Maybe I’m exaggerating, but it’s a wonder we made it in one piece.

With Father’s Day just around the corner, I thought it fitting to post the following prose poem from How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver. This was inspired by an incident that happened while Dad and I were driving home from Colorado. Warning: this poem contains some strong language.


I’m sitting in a car going over ninety miles an hour. “If I stay behind this car, I won’t speed,” Dad says. “It’s going under the speed limit.” But the car in front of us turns off at the next exit. The speedometer climbs.

“God damn it,” he says, as he slows down. “I just want to get home.”

“So do I, but I want to make it in one piece.”

“Fuck you! I’m tired.”

“And you don’t think I am?” I want to tell him. “You don’t think it’s exhausting, speeding down the highway with you, watching you fiddle with the tape deck and consult a road map when both hands should be on the wheel, your eyes glued to the road?” Hallelujah! We’re home at last!

What do you remember doing with your father? Please feel free to share your memories by leaving a comment below.

Abbie Johnson Taylor, Author of
We Shall Overcome
How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

6 thoughts on “Dad Speed

  1. Hi Abbie,
    I have a speeding story but it doesn’t have to do with my Dad.
    When Mandy was younger our friend lived with us. We were going to Dairy Queen for some blizzards. Cops loved to hide behind some bushes and wait for speeders. They caught her. The next day we went to Dairy Queen again for one of their specials and the cop was inside placing an order.
    Mandy said at the top of voice, “Look Deb there’s the cop who gave you the ticket yesterday.”

    she turned around and gathered us all up before we could eat our food because she was so embarrassed.

  2. maybe the moderator of your blog could fix the button so it says comment. I tried to see if it could be changed using csaw but it said no lables to identiry.

  3. Hi Gail, I bet that would be embarrassing for your friend to see the cop who gave her the speeding ticket. Of course Mandy pointing him out didn’t help matters, I’m sure. Kids can be so tactless, can’t they? Of course we were probably the same way when we were Mandy’s age. Anyway, it’s too bad you didn’t get to finish your meal.

    As for the business with the comment field, I’ll e-mail my Webmaster about it. In the meantime, just remember to tab twice after entering your e-mail address, and you should be in the comment field.

  4. The comment form is fixed. However, in order to do this, my Webmaster had to make some changes. There are buttons between the e-mail address field and the comment field. The best way to get to the comment field after typing in your e-mail or Web address is to tab once and then press your screen reader's editable text navigation key. It should only say, "Editable Text," but that's where the comment goes. Between the comment field and the submit button are two more buttons so after leaving your comment, tab three times, and you should be at the submit button. I hope this helps.

  5. Gail, I can honestly say that if I ever got caught for speeding while running to snag a blizzard, well, they wpould just never taste the same again. Nice post Abbie. I have so many recollections of my father. I guess the one I think about most is sitting on his lap, watching Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer when I was just a little tyke. That, and having him teach me how to throw a curve ball out behind the house in the cow pasture. smile. I also have to say that I really don't find this site much more accessible than blogspot, although every time they change the layout, it takes some getting used to. Have a great day all.

  6. Hi Deon, I'm sorry you're not finding this site more accessible. My Webmaster and I have been working to make it easier to navigate. She fixed a problem with the comment form. If there's anything else here that's giving you trouble, please let me know. Thank you for sharing your memories of your father.

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