Dear Kid,

To the driver who drove flew by me on this highway today:

You must be incredibly important to be going so fast.

I’m not exactly going below the speed limit, yet you were a mere flash as you zoomed past me on the highway.

Maybe you’re a surgeon on your way to a lifesaving emergency in the ER. Except you were heading away from the hospital.

Maybe you’re a lawyer on your way to argue a life or death case. Except you were driving away from the courthouse.

Maybe a fire fighter on your way to a 17-alarm blaze. Except I checked the news—not so much as an out of control candle in the area.

Whoever you are, I hope you saved a lot of time.

Time to feel badly about cutting off other drivers.

Time to chat with whichever police officer pulls you over for breaking the sound barrier on a major thoroughfare.

Time to recuperate and recover in the hospital after you plow into an unsuspecting guardrail.

You must really be important.

Not.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Have you heard about real-life auto-driven buses? Yep. Happening in Switzerland. About to happen, anyway.

Launching next spring, a small fleet (and by small, I mean 9) of buses will take to the streets in part of the city of Soin. The buses work just like regular buses—minus the driver. Which may seem like a problem to some of us, but the bus people feel it will be just fine.

The public transportation company there is called CarPostal, giving new meaning to “mail it in.” (Yeah, I know it’s really “phone it in” but I couldn’t make that work.) The buses are adorable (although not made out of chocolate—which should cut down on people licking the cushions).

Turns out four U.S. states have granted “autonomous driving permits”. Who knew? I don’t think there are any self-driving cars yet, but the concept is most wonderful.

I’d be delighted to have a happy little computer drive me around. I’m already taking suggestions for what to name it. Thoughts?

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

I, your mother, am a car genius. Yes, moi.

You can stop laughing now.

I am also a do-gooder.

Seriously, stop giggling.

When I went out to my car after work on Friday, there was a woman trying to open the hood of her car. She had a big bottle of windshield wiper fluid next to her on the ground. Using my amazing powers of interpretation, I deduced that she was trying to open the hood to refill the windshield wiper fluid tank.

Since this is one of the few very few things I consider myself to be an expert competent with, I decided to offer to help.

“I’m not exactly great at cars,” I said (the Universe coughed—it sounded like “understatement”) “but I’m happy to try to help.” She looked grateful. The Universe smirked.

I walked over and immediately identified her vehicle as a white car. You’re impressed, right? She had popped the hood but hadn’t found the little lever to actually open it.

I fiddled. I fidoodled. I felt around. I couldn’t find the little lever either.

“You’re so nice to help. But don’t worry, my husband will be off work in an hour or so,” she said.

The Universe guffawed.

I got sneaky and peeked under the hood—and there it was. The little lever thingy doodle.

I scootled it and pop! Open went the hood. Then I even found the prop-y up-y thing to hold up the hood when she couldn’t.

The Universe graciously conceded.

I left her filling the windshield wiper fluid reserve.

She was very happy and grateful.

I felt great.

And I know I am a car expert because I got grease on my thumb.

Hope you get to do a good deed today.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

I was at the airport last night, and while I waited for Pi’s plane to land I thought, “We have a really nice airport.”

This is not a thing one generally thinks at an airport.

Generally, when one is at an airport, one is thinking about where one can find a bank to loan one enough money to buy a small bottle of water. Or one is thinking about how one is going to find a way to get from where one is to where one wishes to go without using the airplane one had originally planned to ride. Or one is thinking about why one is using the word “one” so often.

Whatever one is thinking, it is generally not “Wow, this is a great place.”

But that’s exactly what I was thinking last night.

I think part of the reason was that I wasn’t trying to go anywhere. I was just there to retrieve a child, and I was pretty happy to have her back home. Also the drive to the airport had been easy breezy beautiful (no, Cover Girl did not pay me for that). In the garage, I parked in the Ultimate Parking Spot. And I learned that CVG has a Welcome Center.

“Meeting someone?” asks a sign held by Rosie Red (yes, the airport is mildly decked out for the All Star Game). “Follow the signs to the Welcome Center”

Welcome Center? We have a Welcome Center?

I went inside the terminal. “This way to the Welcome Center” I took the escalator down. “Welcome Center” said another sign with an arrow indicating a U-turn. (I want you to know I executed the U-turn flawlessly.) Then (after walking the length of two escalators) I was there: at the Welcome Center.

The Welcome Center consist of two lovely areas with café tables and chairs where one can wait for whoever it is you feel like waiting for. The walls are glass so you can see who’s coming and decide whether or not to greet them. The food and beverage options consist of several vending machines which is less than chic, but since you don’t have to go through security you can bring as much of your own beverage as you want so it’s not a big deal.

Pi landed and in short order (that is not a height joke) came through to the Welcome Center, where I (being the kind of mother I am) welcomed her.

In a serious breach of union contracts, her luggage arrived quickly and (after hugging everyone six or seven times) we climbed into the car, left the Ultimate Parking Spot, and headed home.

Really, it’s a lovely airport.

Love, Mom

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Dear Kid,

We are all going to have to go back to driving school.

To be clear, there are a lot of people on the road right now who probably should go back to driving school (looking at you, red pickup driver who thinks turn signals are just for decoration).

There is a new car in the universe (thank you universe). A new kind of car.

It’s name is EOscc2 (not as marketable as R2D2, but I’m sure they’ll work on that) and it’s billed as an ultra flexible micro-car for mega-cities.

And as long as you don’t need to take anything bigger than a lunchbox with you, it is perfect.

It’s wheels go every whichaway which means parking is a breeze.

No more three-point turn, this baby just spins around.

With a bunch of robotics and sensors it will help you park (and one day do the driving, parking, and coffee making for you).

And—get this—it changes shape.

Yep. This car goes from 2.5 meters down to 1.5 meters.

I can’t even stand myself that is so cool.

The cars also hook up into a little train which might be interesting for people all going the same way, but I’m not sure I see that part catching on in the US.

No clue when, as, or if it will come to market, but I love how these folks are thinking. You can Car that changes shape.

Love, Mom