Thirty-something speaks
Driving Mr. Hazy
Mike Maddock

I've become so adept at drowning out background noise that I'm afraid it's becoming a detriment to my health and possibly the health of others.

I live with three kids. There are times when I've heard packed football stadiums quieter than my living room. It's amazing how much noise three little mouths and their props can generate. I'm not one who believes children should be seen and not heard, but occasionally quiet is good. My kids think otherwise so I've learned to tune out the noise.

This is no easy task. It takes real talent to find that special place inside where the only noise registering in my brain is a gentle breeze blowing through a mountain meadow when in actuality Junior is playing bongos with half the pots and pans in the kitchen, my youngest daughter is belting out High School Musical 2, and my oldest daughter is, ironically, screaming for both her siblings to be quiet. My power to silence the unsilencable is immense and invaluable to my sanity.

However, some say with great power comes great responsibility, and now the problem is I'm starting to lose control over this power, and it's taking on a life of its own. It's working in concert with another one of my talents, short- term memory loss. OK, it's not so much a talent as it is a character flaw, but the short- term memory loss occasionally attaches itself to the tune- out power when I'm driving and that's not good.

I'll be coming from work, and suddenly instead of focusing on the car in front of me and the route home, my brain drifts off into that meadow without any prompting from me. My short- term memory joins the party, and I may as well be driving the back streets of Siberia by the time something kicks me out of that meadow. Usually, I will have driven well past my turn, and nothing looks familiar.

Daydreaming and memory loss are not illegal, but maybe they should be. I'd venture to say someone in my condition who has just realized his neighborhood is in the complete opposite direction is much more likely to flip a U- turn across a four- lane highway then someone yapping on a cell phone. Generally, a phone conversation is far less distracting than an out- of- body experience.

When I talk on the phone while driving, I can at least remember the conversation. When my brain drifts away, I don't remember much of anything. There have been times when I pull into my garage and wonder how in the world I got there. Kind of scary, huh?

Unfortunately, I'm not the only one with this power. My wife calls me once a week asking for directions because she drifted off and ended up in Cottontown when she should have been in Forest Acres. A friend of mine found herself lost on roads she'd taken hundreds of times. Her excuse was similar to my meadow.

We've just got to look out for each other. If you see me staring blankly at a green light not doing much of anything, give me a honk. Chances are you'll scare the heck out of me, but you'll save me some time on my commute.