AGING

Sixty-Seven and Car-Free

2021 Was the Year I Stopped Driving

Last year, I finally did something I’ve been threatening to do for years. I sold my car and stopped driving.

I’m apparently one of the few people who actually stops driving when they can no longer drive safely. Unlike, for instance, my dad, who hung onto his driver’s license until he died at 87 and was a menace to everyone on the road. Or my pal Deb, who still speeds around, running stop signs at age 76.

There are plenty of folks in their sixties who are excellent drivers. I, alas, am not one of them.

When people ask why I finally gave up driving, I joke that I was tired of driving around with people honking at me all the time.

They chuckle. But it’s true. In my youth, I was a terrific driver. But over the years, my driving skills — with my hearing and vision and reflexes — had atrophied. I was constantly making mistakes that I wasn’t aware of, provoking my fellow drivers to lean on their horns.

So what’s the difference between having a car and being car-free?

For me? Not much. I’m a pedestrian by nature.

Before I ditched my wheels, I already walked everywhere. I live in a suburb with lots of sidewalks. Many of my friends, my haircutter, my dentist and plenty of good coffee shops and restaurants are within easy walking distance. So is my sister. Until I was retired from my library job in 2020, I walked to work every day.

I rarely used my car. I filled up the tank maybe twice a year. When I brought it in for a yearly inspection, my mechanic was always amused by how little the numbers on the odometer had gone up since the last time he’d seen it.

The car sat, unused, on my driveway for weeks at a time. I talked about selling it, but never did. So what finally decided me?

One fine day the battery died because I’d used to car so little. The Triple A mechanic who came out to give it a jump told me the battery was getting old and that I’d have to replace it soon.

“How much will that cost?” I asked.

“A new battery will cost $125.”

So I had a choice to make. Should I spend $125 for a new battery? Or should I finally sell my car? I went to the excellent local mechanic who had kept my trusty old 2002 Toyota running for so many years and asked if he wanted to buy it.

“How much do you want for it?”

“A thousand dollars?”

“Sold!” he said. “Bring it by tomorrow and I’ll take care of the transfer costs and paperwork.”

So instead of spending $125 for a new battery for a car that I rarely used, I made $1,000. And I feel good about selling it to my mechanic. Since he knew the ins and outs of that particular 2002 Camry far better than I ever did, he knew exactly what he was getting, so I could be confident that this was a fair transaction. Not to mention totally hassle-free. And if $1,000 was a bargain price? He deserved it for taking such good care of my Toyota for all those years.

I am proud of myself for making this decision. There really ought to be a Hallmark card for having reached this milestone:

Roses are red

Violets are blue

You’ve a senior who’s just sold your car, which means that you’re never going to run over a random pedestrian, a neighbor on a bicycle, a teenager dressed entirely in black walking down a dark street at night, or a neighbor’s dog or cat.

Good for you!

I began driving at 17. I stopped driving at 67. That’s 50 years of safe, accident-free driving.

Now I walk, take public transportation or grab a Lyft.

I’ve got a tiny carbon footprint and I’m saving money on gas and insurance.

And I’m not putting your life at risk every time I get behind the wheel.

You’re welcome.

Writing Coach and editor-for-hire Roz Warren, who writes for everyone from the Funny Times to the New York Times, can help you improve and publish your work. Drop her a line at [email protected]. (That’s Ros with an “s,” not a “z.”)