The Rules of the Playing Field
I had no idea sunflower seeds were such a problem on the playing field. Especially enough to require a special sign.

When I was younger I liked to drive around just for the sake of driving. I drove around a lot of backroads in Agoura. No doubt they are no longer back of anything and instead traffic choked roads leading between housing developments. I drove to the beach. I drove around a lot in Santa Barbara, too.

I don’t like to drive any more. I just like to get somewhere.

When I drive, I like to be freakishly close the steering wheel, as if to embrace it fully, if need be. I think the real problem is my short stubby legs. Not that that’s a problem. I’m sure Karuk women were prized for their short stubby legs. But this reality requires that I be close to the steering wheel if my feet are to reach the pedals.

I feel insecure if I have to reach with my feet. Things could get out of control at any moment.

What concerns me is if the day should come when the airbag blows up because I’m pretty certain that’s not going to feel good. Sure, if I’m charging forward and collide with something moving at me, the airbag is probably going to be a lifesaver. What I’m worried about it that fender bender that’s got just enough force to deploy the bag. WHAM! My face just got that much flatter.

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