What if driving is causing the distraction?

I recently came across a problem of semantics.

 

Should it be called “distracted driving” if the matter distracting me IS the driving?

 

I have owned my current vehicle for five years or more, but in all that time, I have never let the fuel gauge touch the “empty” mark–until the other evening. I ran into town on a quick errand that, as many do, turned out not to be so quick.  With the irritations of the complication and the satisfaction of overcoming it taken care of, I drove home–allowing myself to forget I meant to purchase fuel.

 

I was practically at my driveway when I remembered, at which point I decided I would have to wait until my morning run into Waseca–a distance of 10 miles or so–to purchase fuel.

I was “distracted” from the moment I sat in the driver’s seat the next day. It was a case of cyclical considerations. I was quite certain there was plenty of fuel in the car to make it to the gas station without incident. BUT if that wasn’t the case and I ended up stranded along the road, which hapless victim should I call for help? In my head, I speculated about which of my potential helpers was even likely to answer the phone. And then, when the person did, how long would it take for assistance to arrive?  How would things go at my appointment if I arrived 30 minutes late? Somewhere in there I breathed a sigh of relief that modern cell phones would allow me to call the establishment and explain. Then I thought how embarrassed I would be if I had to admit I had run out of gas. After that, I chastised myself again for being so forgetful the evening before.

 

I thought back to a time in my childhood when my father, apparently having some sport with us, pointed out to my brothers and me that the fuel gauge was below empty and we were nowhere near a gas station. He continued unfazed with the journey while I, at least, stewed about what would happen. When the car did finally gulp a few times and come to a stop, we kids looked at him in concern. Then he calmly walked to the trunk, fetched a fuel can, and poured its contents into the tank.

 

I guess what had me thinking about that incident most was that “gulping” sound the car made as it used the last drops of fuel. Would my Chevy make the same sound?

 

Then I was back reassuring myself I needn’t worry. By this time I was more than halfway to Waseca–surely there was enough fuel in the tank to get to the gas station. BUT, if I did run out, and I didn’t want to admit I had run out of gas, how could I make an excuse for being late to my appointment without actually lying…

 

The good news is, all that speculation was for nothing; I made it to the gas station without incident. The rush of joy and accomplishment I felt as I saw the gas pumps from about half a block away rivaled the wonder of finding unexpected money in my wallet.

 

But then I wondered, if I heard that gulping sound right here, would I still make it to the gas pumps?

 

So in one way, I was hyperalert that morning. Knowing, or at least believing, that high speeds would use more fuel, I drove a nice, sedate 55 miles an hour or less. I purposely took my foot off the gas well before stop signs and turns, coasting down to the lower speed or stop. You can be certain I referred to my dashboard often, glancing at the gas gauge perhaps five times every mile, even though, of course, it showed no movement.

 

On the other hand, of course, there was that cyclical dialogue in my head: Would I need help? Who would be available? What “dominos” would topple one after another on my schedule if this first one fell?

 

Well, it goes without saying I was glad not to have to find the answers to any of those…distracting…questions. And I have made an internal commitment never again to be so…distracted…that I forget to buy fuel when my tank gets low. In the meantime, though, I guess I’ve enjoyed the distraction of my question in semantics and at the same time reached a conclusion: I was probably a distracted driver, but I was also the most alert one the roadways have seen in a long time.