OT - STORY: I heart Physics Teachers

As I said, I love physics teachers. They are so analytical and don't
let emotions factor into any situation. I'd have to become an axe
murderer if I had one for a husband, but having a physics teacher for
a friend is a very good thing, indeed.

As I mentioned in my quick wave of the hand post, my beloved daughter
is driving. Now, if you have a child who is not yet old enough to
drive, do not think that you will casually accept this rite of
passage, even if you accepted everything prior to that calmly, with
only thoughts of pride that your child was growing up so well.
Driving a motor vehicle is a whole 'nother thing.

Whether you want to know or not, articles about teen drivers coming
to a bad end are suddenly thrust before your eyes. A "kind" friend
shares that old Dear Abby article about a dead teen called "Please
God, I'm only Seventeen." Your auto insurance broker doesn't cause
you to fear for your kid's safety - unless she gets a parking ticket
(you don't let yourself think of anything worse), which will raise
your already scary insurance rates so high that you'll need to cash
in your 401K plan just to pay the premiums.

Letting your kid leave the house for that first time is hard, no make
that horrible: horrible for the stomach, the clenched teeth and the
way that you and your spouse are holding hands so tightly that bones
break. The cell phone becomes a truly blessed invention those first
few weeks as your kid calls to let you know that everything's fine,
and they made it to school safely.

One morning the telephone didn't ring on time. I decided that she
forgot to call, just as she forgets everything else. I went and got
myself an additional Diet Coke and tried to convince myself that
simple forgetfulness was the reason. Then the phone rings. Before
you have a chance to hope it is a telemarketer, the caller ID pops up
with the kid's name and number.

A tear filled voice tears at your heart. "Mama?" she said, "It's
me." (Like I thought it would be anyone else) "Everyone is all
right, but I had an accident," she said in that quick rush of words
that precedes a child bursting into tears, whether they are three or
thirty. "Nobody got hurt, but my car is all messed up and the man is
being really mean to me." I found out where she was calling from (a
half mile away, within spitting distance of the school), and told her
that "Daddy will be right there."

Cursing myself because I can no longer drive, Imade my way down the
hall to wake up Bob. "Honey," I said, in a voice that was as quiet
and trembly as Manda's had been, "Nobody's hurt --"

I paused momentarily to gawk. I had never seen anyone hover in the
air before. Bob had gone from deep sleep to hove in the space of
three words. I continued to tell him what happened, and before Bob
hit the ground, he was dressed. As I shouted Manda's location, Bob
ran down the hall, putting on shoes and grabbing car keys at the same
time. Before I had finished the sentence, the truck was squealing
out of the driveway.

I got to wait, stuck with that horrible feeling that means "I think
I'm going to throw up from anxiety, but all I have in my system is
Diet Coke." Somehow, the next fifteen minutes took three hours to go
by. Bob came home, rubbing his eyes in the gesture that means he
could feel grey hairs sprouting at that moment. He told me that the
other guy was standing over Manda, who was sitting on the curb,
crying. As he jumped out of the car, he could hear the guy cursing
Manda, and telling her that he was going to sue.

His shouting drained away almost instantly as he saw Bob coming
toward them, and Manda running to her Daddy. The fellow was much
more polite to Bob than he had been to Manda, especially when Bob got
into his personal space and asked him why he had thought shouting at
Manda was a good idea. The other guy squeaked that his son just got
his license, had had two accidents and drove like a bat outta hell.
He was just trying to help a fellow parent.

Bob told him that he didn't need any help, in that quiet voice that
sounds like a rumble coming from your feet. (I taught that rumble to
Bob, but it works better for him than it ever did for me) They
exchanged insurance information, Bob made Manda "get back on the
horse," and drive herself to school, then he came home to me.

I spent the rest of the morning taking care of things with the
insurance company. I was so emotionally wiped at the thoughts of
what could have been - a deadly crash in the dark of night, instead
of a two mile an hour fender bender in front of the post office. I
fell asleep at my desk, and didn't know it until Manda was gently
shaking me awake. We spent the next hour or two talking about the
accident from every possible angle, because Manda insisted that the
fellow made an illegal turn in front of her, and the man insisted
that he was driving along lawfully while Manda sped out of a side
street, ignored the stop signs, and deliberately rammed the side of
his brand new truck.

I thought the truth was somewhere in the middle, and with everything
being equal, they were going to find the new driver responsible for
the accident. I told Manda, who was indignant at the thought. I
didn't say anything at the time, but indignant wasn't what I was
feeling at the thought of those increased premums for six (!) years.

Then Manda pulled out a map-looking thing out of her backpack. It
was the map section of an accident report, blown up to full page
size. Manda told me what was going on between bites of pot roast.
(and this is why this story is named what it is)

When Manda went to school the morning of the accident, she was late
by a half hour. The attendance officer didn't require a note,
because she could see the accident from her office window, although
she didn't know who had been involved. Manda got a late pass to
admit her to physics.

When she got there, Manda's teacher asked what had happened. When
she mentioned "car accident," the teacher had seen it, along with
half the class or more. knowing that the kids would want to talk
about this to the exclusion of everything else, the teacher suddenly
changed his lesson for the day to rapid deceleration. (stopping)
The assigned homework was to take the two stories, and along with the
cell phone photos of both cars' damage, to map out exactly what
happened, and who was at fault. I wished I had this guy when I took
physics, back in the stone ages.

Manda, of course, simply filled out her map the same way that she had
filled out the real accident report. She had been excused from
making judgements about who was at fault. During the evening, she
fielded many phone calls from her friends, who wanted to know
specific angles and so forth. (Did I mention that her friends are
all boys, and all are in AP Physics with Manda?)

The next morning, the kids gave their presentations. Most of them
were close, but only the teacher had everything right. He showed the
kids how the only way the accident could have happened is if the
driver of the SUV made an illegal turn in front of the old Buick.
(yay!) Manda was given a copy of the report to turn in to the
insurance company.

About a week later, I got a call from a woman at the insurance
company, asking what the heck was the paper stuck in with the claim.
I explained, and she laughed. It wouldn't be admissable, of course,
because only the claim adjuster could make the decision as to fault
in the accident. But, as I predicted, it was likely to be determined
that the new driver (Manda) would be at fault.

We're still waiting to hear, and if we have to, we'll appeal any
unfavorable decision. But it was a great thing for this guy to make a
dry subject into a real life solution, and extremely thoughtful of
him to help Manda get a fair shake. And yes, I sent notes along to
the principal and superintendent of schools. (They must be waiting
with bated breath for Manda to graduate. Whenever they say anythng
about parental input, the kids all turn and say, "Hey Manda, your
mother's been calling the school again."

I'm offended. I have NOT called the school in over a year.

Cheers, and now you can't say you haven't heard a story in forever
and a day.

Kathy N-V (who still remembers how to make a good heading)

Cool story, Kathy.

Were no police called? Most places they have to be if property damage
exceeds a certain amount, and it's hard to put more than a hail ding in a
new car without hitting that threshold.

In my world, the cops and courts determine fault, not claims adjusters. If
they pay no heed to the physics report, give'm hell!

Val


"Kathy N-V" wrote in message
mcast.net...


As I said, I love physics teachers. They are so analytical and don't
let emotions factor into any situation. I'd have to become an axe
murderer if I had one for a husband, but having a physics teacher for
a friend is a very good thing, indeed.

WOW! I wish I had that teacher when I was in school! I had to get a
private tutor for my physics class cause the professor couldn't quite come
down to our level of understanding. This guy sounds like a really good
teacher. You should feel lucky to have him in your school system.

I hope your insurance adjuster understands that what Manda gave him is a
definite out to the liability for this accident and force the other guy's
insurance carrier to foot the repair bills. Just because she is a new
driver does not mean she caused the accident. That's just profiling to the
extreme. Please keep us posted....... I'd love to hear the ending of this
story. I'm rootin' for Manda!! You go gurl!!!


Sterling



"Kathy N-V" wrote in message
mcast.net...


As I said, I love physics teachers. They are so analytical and don't
let emotions factor into any situation. I'd have to become an axe
murderer if I had one for a husband, but having a physics teacher for
a friend is a very good thing, indeed.

As I mentioned in my quick wave of the hand post, my beloved daughter
is driving. Now, if you have a child who is not yet old enough to
drive, do not think that you will casually accept this rite of
passage, even if you accepted everything prior to that calmly, with
only thoughts of pride that your child was growing up so well.
Driving a motor vehicle is a whole 'nother thing.

Whether you want to know or not, articles about teen drivers coming
to a bad end are suddenly thrust before your eyes. A "kind" friend
shares that old Dear Abby article about a dead teen called "Please
God, I'm only Seventeen." Your auto insurance broker doesn't cause
you to fear for your kid's safety - unless she gets a parking ticket
(you don't let yourself think of anything worse), which will raise
your already scary insurance rates so high that you'll need to cash
in your 401K plan just to pay the premiums.

Letting your kid leave the house for that first time is hard, no make
that horrible: horrible for the stomach, the clenched teeth and the
way that you and your spouse are holding hands so tightly that bones
break. The cell phone becomes a truly blessed invention those first
few weeks as your kid calls to let you know that everything's fine,
and they made it to school safely.

One morning the telephone didn't ring on time. I decided that she
forgot to call, just as she forgets everything else. I went and got
myself an additional Diet Coke and tried to convince myself that
simple forgetfulness was the reason. Then the phone rings. Before
you have a chance to hope it is a telemarketer, the caller ID pops up
with the kid's name and number.

A tear filled voice tears at your heart. "Mama?" she said, "It's
me." (Like I thought it would be anyone else) "Everyone is all
right, but I had an accident," she said in that quick rush of words
that precedes a child bursting into tears, whether they are three or
thirty. "Nobody got hurt, but my car is all messed up and the man is
being really mean to me." I found out where she was calling from (a
half mile away, within spitting distance of the school), and told her
that "Daddy will be right there."

Cursing myself because I can no longer drive, Imade my way down the
hall to wake up Bob. "Honey," I said, in a voice that was as quiet
and trembly as Manda's had been, "Nobody's hurt --"

I paused momentarily to gawk. I had never seen anyone hover in the
air before. Bob had gone from deep sleep to hove in the space of
three words. I continued to tell him what happened, and before Bob
hit the ground, he was dressed. As I shouted Manda's location, Bob
ran down the hall, putting on shoes and grabbing car keys at the same
time. Before I had finished the sentence, the truck was squealing
out of the driveway.

I got to wait, stuck with that horrible feeling that means "I think
I'm going to throw up from anxiety, but all I have in my system is
Diet Coke." Somehow, the next fifteen minutes took three hours to go
by. Bob came home, rubbing his eyes in the gesture that means he
could feel grey hairs sprouting at that moment. He told me that the
other guy was standing over Manda, who was sitting on the curb,
crying. As he jumped out of the car, he could hear the guy cursing
Manda, and telling her that he was going to sue.

His shouting drained away almost instantly as he saw Bob coming
toward them, and Manda running to her Daddy. The fellow was much
more polite to Bob than he had been to Manda, especially when Bob got
into his personal space and asked him why he had thought shouting at
Manda was a good idea. The other guy squeaked that his son just got
his license, had had two accidents and drove like a bat outta hell.
He was just trying to help a fellow parent.

Bob told him that he didn't need any help, in that quiet voice that
sounds like a rumble coming from your feet. (I taught that rumble to
Bob, but it works better for him than it ever did for me) They
exchanged insurance information, Bob made Manda "get back on the
horse," and drive herself to school, then he came home to me.

I spent the rest of the morning taking care of things with the
insurance company. I was so emotionally wiped at the thoughts of
what could have been - a deadly crash in the dark of night, instead
of a two mile an hour fender bender in front of the post office. I
fell asleep at my desk, and didn't know it until Manda was gently
shaking me awake. We spent the next hour or two talking about the
accident from every possible angle, because Manda insisted that the
fellow made an illegal turn in front of her, and the man insisted
that he was driving along lawfully while Manda sped out of a side
street, ignored the stop signs, and deliberately rammed the side of
his brand new truck.

I thought the truth was somewhere in the middle, and with everything
being equal, they were going to find the new driver responsible for
the accident. I told Manda, who was indignant at the thought. I
didn't say anything at the time, but indignant wasn't what I was
feeling at the thought of those increased premums for six (!) years.

Then Manda pulled out a map-looking thing out of her backpack. It
was the map section of an accident report, blown up to full page
size. Manda told me what was going on between bites of pot roast.
(and this is why this story is named what it is)

When Manda went to school the morning of the accident, she was late
by a half hour. The attendance officer didn't require a note,
because she could see the accident from her office window, although
she didn't know who had been involved. Manda got a late pass to
admit her to physics.

When she got there, Manda's teacher asked what had happened. When
she mentioned "car accident," the teacher had seen it, along with
half the class or more. knowing that the kids would want to talk
about this to the exclusion of everything else, the teacher suddenly
changed his lesson for the day to rapid deceleration. (stopping)
The assigned homework was to take the two stories, and along with the
cell phone photos of both cars' damage, to map out exactly what
happened, and who was at fault. I wished I had this guy when I took
physics, back in the stone ages.

Manda, of course, simply filled out her map the same way that she had
filled out the real accident report. She had been excused from
making judgements about who was at fault. During the evening, she
fielded many phone calls from her friends, who wanted to know
specific angles and so forth. (Did I mention that her friends are
all boys, and all are in AP Physics with Manda?)

The next morning, the kids gave their presentations. Most of them
were close, but only the teacher had everything right. He showed the
kids how the only way the accident could have happened is if the
driver of the SUV made an illegal turn in front of the old Buick.
(yay!) Manda was given a copy of the report to turn in to the
insurance company.

About a week later, I got a call from a woman at the insurance
company, asking what the heck was the paper stuck in with the claim.
I explained, and she laughed. It wouldn't be admissable, of course,
because only the claim adjuster could make the decision as to fault
in the accident. But, as I predicted, it was likely to be determined
that the new driver (Manda) would be at fault.

We're still waiting to hear, and if we have to, we'll appeal any
unfavorable decision. But it was a great thing for this guy to make a
dry subject into a real life solution, and extremely thoughtful of
him to help Manda get a fair shake. And yes, I sent notes along to
the principal and superintendent of schools. (They must be waiting
with bated breath for Manda to graduate. Whenever they say anythng
about parental input, the kids all turn and say, "Hey Manda, your
mother's been calling the school again."

I'm offended. I have NOT called the school in over a year.

Cheers, and now you can't say you haven't heard a story in forever
and a day.

Kathy N-V (who still remembers how to make a good heading)

Great story! And it's great to see you back, Kathy. The old newsgroup hasn't
been the same without you.

Georgia

"Kathy N-V" wrote in message
mcast.net...


As I said, I love physics teachers. They are so analytical and don't
let emotions factor into any situation. I'd have to become an axe
murderer if I had one for a husband, but having a physics teacher for
a friend is a very good thing, indeed.

As I mentioned in my quick wave of the hand post, my beloved daughter
is driving. Now, if you have a child who is not yet old enough to
drive, do not think that you will casually accept this rite of
passage, even if you accepted everything prior to that calmly, with
only thoughts of pride that your child was growing up so well.
Driving a motor vehicle is a whole 'nother thing.

Whether you want to know or not, articles about teen drivers coming
to a bad end are suddenly thrust before your eyes. A "kind" friend
shares that old Dear Abby article about a dead teen called "Please
God, I'm only Seventeen." Your auto insurance broker doesn't cause
you to fear for your kid's safety - unless she gets a parking ticket
(you don't let yourself think of anything worse), which will raise
your already scary insurance rates so high that you'll need to cash
in your 401K plan just to pay the premiums.

Letting your kid leave the house for that first time is hard, no make
that horrible: horrible for the stomach, the clenched teeth and the
way that you and your spouse are holding hands so tightly that bones
break. The cell phone becomes a truly blessed invention those first
few weeks as your kid calls to let you know that everything's fine,
and they made it to school safely.

One morning the telephone didn't ring on time. I decided that she
forgot to call, just as she forgets everything else. I went and got
myself an additional Diet Coke and tried to convince myself that
simple forgetfulness was the reason. Then the phone rings. Before
you have a chance to hope it is a telemarketer, the caller ID pops up
with the kid's name and number.

A tear filled voice tears at your heart. "Mama?" she said, "It's
me." (Like I thought it would be anyone else) "Everyone is all
right, but I had an accident," she said in that quick rush of words
that precedes a child bursting into tears, whether they are three or
thirty. "Nobody got hurt, but my car is all messed up and the man is
being really mean to me." I found out where she was calling from (a
half mile away, within spitting distance of the school), and told her
that "Daddy will be right there."

Cursing myself because I can no longer drive, Imade my way down the
hall to wake up Bob. "Honey," I said, in a voice that was as quiet
and trembly as Manda's had been, "Nobody's hurt --"

I paused momentarily to gawk. I had never seen anyone hover in the
air before. Bob had gone from deep sleep to hove in the space of
three words. I continued to tell him what happened, and before Bob
hit the ground, he was dressed. As I shouted Manda's location, Bob
ran down the hall, putting on shoes and grabbing car keys at the same
time. Before I had finished the sentence, the truck was squealing
out of the driveway.

I got to wait, stuck with that horrible feeling that means "I think
I'm going to throw up from anxiety, but all I have in my system is
Diet Coke." Somehow, the next fifteen minutes took three hours to go
by. Bob came home, rubbing his eyes in the gesture that means he
could feel grey hairs sprouting at that moment. He told me that the
other guy was standing over Manda, who was sitting on the curb,
crying. As he jumped out of the car, he could hear the guy cursing
Manda, and telling her that he was going to sue.

His shouting drained away almost instantly as he saw Bob coming
toward them, and Manda running to her Daddy. The fellow was much
more polite to Bob than he had been to Manda, especially when Bob got
into his personal space and asked him why he had thought shouting at
Manda was a good idea. The other guy squeaked that his son just got
his license, had had two accidents and drove like a bat outta hell.
He was just trying to help a fellow parent.

Bob told him that he didn't need any help, in that quiet voice that
sounds like a rumble coming from your feet. (I taught that rumble to
Bob, but it works better for him than it ever did for me) They
exchanged insurance information, Bob made Manda "get back on the
horse," and drive herself to school, then he came home to me.

I spent the rest of the morning taking care of things with the
insurance company. I was so emotionally wiped at the thoughts of
what could have been - a deadly crash in the dark of night, instead
of a two mile an hour fender bender in front of the post office. I
fell asleep at my desk, and didn't know it until Manda was gently
shaking me awake. We spent the next hour or two talking about the
accident from every possible angle, because Manda insisted that the
fellow made an illegal turn in front of her, and the man insisted
that he was driving along lawfully while Manda sped out of a side
street, ignored the stop signs, and deliberately rammed the side of
his brand new truck.

I thought the truth was somewhere in the middle, and with everything
being equal, they were going to find the new driver responsible for
the accident. I told Manda, who was indignant at the thought. I
didn't say anything at the time, but indignant wasn't what I was
feeling at the thought of those increased premums for six (!) years.

Then Manda pulled out a map-looking thing out of her backpack. It
was the map section of an accident report, blown up to full page
size. Manda told me what was going on between bites of pot roast.
(and this is why this story is named what it is)

When Manda went to school the morning of the accident, she was late
by a half hour. The attendance officer didn't require a note,
because she could see the accident from her office window, although
she didn't know who had been involved. Manda got a late pass to
admit her to physics.

When she got there, Manda's teacher asked what had happened. When
she mentioned "car accident," the teacher had seen it, along with
half the class or more. knowing that the kids would want to talk
about this to the exclusion of everything else, the teacher suddenly
changed his lesson for the day to rapid deceleration. (stopping)
The assigned homework was to take the two stories, and along with the
cell phone photos of both cars' damage, to map out exactly what
happened, and who was at fault. I wished I had this guy when I took
physics, back in the stone ages.

Manda, of course, simply filled out her map the same way that she had
filled out the real accident report. She had been excused from
making judgements about who was at fault. During the evening, she
fielded many phone calls from her friends, who wanted to know
specific angles and so forth. (Did I mention that her friends are
all boys, and all are in AP Physics with Manda?)

The next morning, the kids gave their presentations. Most of them
were close, but only the teacher had everything right. He showed the
kids how the only way the accident could have happened is if the
driver of the SUV made an illegal turn in front of the old Buick.
(yay!) Manda was given a copy of the report to turn in to the
insurance company.

About a week later, I got a call from a woman at the insurance
company, asking what the heck was the paper stuck in with the claim.
I explained, and she laughed. It wouldn't be admissable, of course,
because only the claim adjuster could make the decision as to fault
in the accident. But, as I predicted, it was likely to be determined
that the new driver (Manda) would be at fault.

We're still waiting to hear, and if we have to, we'll appeal any
unfavorable decision. But it was a great thing for this guy to make a
dry subject into a real life solution, and extremely thoughtful of
him to help Manda get a fair shake. And yes, I sent notes along to
the principal and superintendent of schools. (They must be waiting
with bated breath for Manda to graduate. Whenever they say anythng
about parental input, the kids all turn and say, "Hey Manda, your
mother's been calling the school again."

I'm offended. I have NOT called the school in over a year.

Cheers, and now you can't say you haven't heard a story in forever
and a day.

Kathy N-V (who still remembers how to make a good heading)

Sympathies -
Mike's truck was totalled about 10 days
before Christmas....
I got "THE CALL" at about 815 (he leaves for
work before I do ....)
(Like Bob - I was out of bed and
nearly dressed before I had the location
of the accident in my left ear....)

Luckily - he was uninjured - the other
driver/passenger had minor injuries - but both
vehicles were totalled....
Sigh

Now he is driving a $700 "beater" Ford
Ranger.... and saving his money toward
a downpayment new vehicle (maybe in the spring)
because he only broke even on paying off
the loan on the one he lost.

Cheryl

Kathy N-V wrote:
As I said, I love physics teachers. They are so analytical and don't
let emotions factor into any situation. I'd have to become an axe
murderer if I had one for a husband, but having a physics teacher for
a friend is a very good thing, indeed.

As I mentioned in my quick wave of the hand post, my beloved daughter
is driving. Now, if you have a child who is not yet old enough to
drive, do not think that you will casually accept this rite of
passage, even if you accepted everything prior to that calmly, with
only thoughts of pride that your child was growing up so well.
Driving a motor vehicle is a whole 'nother thing.

Whether you want to know or not, articles about teen drivers coming
to a bad end are suddenly thrust before your eyes. A "kind" friend
shares that old Dear Abby article about a dead teen called "Please
God, I'm only Seventeen." Your auto insurance broker doesn't cause
you to fear for your kid's safety - unless she gets a parking ticket
(you don't let yourself think of anything worse), which will raise
your already scary insurance rates so high that you'll need to cash
in your 401K plan just to pay the premiums.

Letting your kid leave the house for that first time is hard, no make
that horrible: horrible for the stomach, the clenched teeth and the
way that you and your spouse are holding hands so tightly that bones
break. The cell phone becomes a truly blessed invention those first
few weeks as your kid calls to let you know that everything's fine,
and they made it to school safely.

One morning the telephone didn't ring on time. I decided that she
forgot to call, just as she forgets everything else. I went and got
myself an additional Diet Coke and tried to convince myself that
simple forgetfulness was the reason. Then the phone rings. Before
you have a chance to hope it is a telemarketer, the caller ID pops up
with the kid's name and number.

A tear filled voice tears at your heart. "Mama?" she said, "It's
me." (Like I thought it would be anyone else) "Everyone is all
right, but I had an accident," she said in that quick rush of words
that precedes a child bursting into tears, whether they are three or
thirty. "Nobody got hurt, but my car is all messed up and the man is
being really mean to me." I found out where she was calling from (a
half mile away, within spitting distance of the school), and told her
that "Daddy will be right there."

Cursing myself because I can no longer drive, Imade my way down the
hall to wake up Bob. "Honey," I said, in a voice that was as quiet
and trembly as Manda's had been, "Nobody's hurt --"

I paused momentarily to gawk. I had never seen anyone hover in the
air before. Bob had gone from deep sleep to hove in the space of
three words. I continued to tell him what happened, and before Bob
hit the ground, he was dressed. As I shouted Manda's location, Bob
ran down the hall, putting on shoes and grabbing car keys at the same
time. Before I had finished the sentence, the truck was squealing
out of the driveway.

I got to wait, stuck with that horrible feeling that means "I think
I'm going to throw up from anxiety, but all I have in my system is
Diet Coke." Somehow, the next fifteen minutes took three hours to go
by. Bob came home, rubbing his eyes in the gesture that means he
could feel grey hairs sprouting at that moment. He told me that the
other guy was standing over Manda, who was sitting on the curb,
crying. As he jumped out of the car, he could hear the guy cursing
Manda, and telling her that he was going to sue.

His shouting drained away almost instantly as he saw Bob coming
toward them, and Manda running to her Daddy. The fellow was much
more polite to Bob than he had been to Manda, especially when Bob got
into his personal space and asked him why he had thought shouting at
Manda was a good idea. The other guy squeaked that his son just got
his license, had had two accidents and drove like a bat outta hell.
He was just trying to help a fellow parent.

Bob told him that he didn't need any help, in that quiet voice that
sounds like a rumble coming from your feet. (I taught that rumble to
Bob, but it works better for him than it ever did for me) They
exchanged insurance information, Bob made Manda "get back on the
horse," and drive herself to school, then he came home to me.

I spent the rest of the morning taking care of things with the
insurance company. I was so emotionally wiped at the thoughts of
what could have been - a deadly crash in the dark of night, instead
of a two mile an hour fender bender in front of the post office. I
fell asleep at my desk, and didn't know it until Manda was gently
shaking me awake. We spent the next hour or two talking about the
accident from every possible angle, because Manda insisted that the
fellow made an illegal turn in front of her, and the man insisted
that he was driving along lawfully while Manda sped out of a side
street, ignored the stop signs, and deliberately rammed the side of
his brand new truck.

I thought the truth was somewhere in the middle, and with everything
being equal, they were going to find the new driver responsible for
the accident. I told Manda, who was indignant at the thought. I
didn't say anything at the time, but indignant wasn't what I was
feeling at the thought of those increased premums for six (!) years.

Then Manda pulled out a map-looking thing out of her backpack. It
was the map section of an accident report, blown up to full page
size. Manda told me what was going on between bites of pot roast.
(and this is why this story is named what it is)

When Manda went to school the morning of the accident, she was late
by a half hour. The attendance officer didn't require a note,
because she could see the accident from her office window, although
she didn't know who had been involved. Manda got a late pass to
admit her to physics.

When she got there, Manda's teacher asked what had happened. When
she mentioned "car accident," the teacher had seen it, along with
half the class or more. knowing that the kids would want to talk
about this to the exclusion of everything else, the teacher suddenly
changed his lesson for the day to rapid deceleration. (stopping)
The assigned homework was to take the two stories, and along with the
cell phone photos of both cars' damage, to map out exactly what
happened, and who was at fault. I wished I had this guy when I took
physics, back in the stone ages.

Manda, of course, simply filled out her map the same way that she had
filled out the real accident report. She had been excused from
making judgements about who was at fault. During the evening, she
fielded many phone calls from her friends, who wanted to know
specific angles and so forth. (Did I mention that her friends are
all boys, and all are in AP Physics with Manda?)

The next morning, the kids gave their presentations. Most of them
were close, but only the teacher had everything right. He showed the
kids how the only way the accident could have happened is if the
driver of the SUV made an illegal turn in front of the old Buick.
(yay!) Manda was given a copy of the report to turn in to the
insurance company.

About a week later, I got a call from a woman at the insurance
company, asking what the heck was the paper stuck in with the claim.
I explained, and she laughed. It wouldn't be admissable, of course,
because only the claim adjuster could make the decision as to fault
in the accident. But, as I predicted, it was likely to be determined
that the new driver (Manda) would be at fault.

We're still waiting to hear, and if we have to, we'll appeal any
unfavorable decision. But it was a great thing for this guy to make a
dry subject into a real life solution, and extremely thoughtful of
him to help Manda get a fair shake. And yes, I sent notes along to
the principal and superintendent of schools. (They must be waiting
with bated breath for Manda to graduate. Whenever they say anythng
about parental input, the kids all turn and say, "Hey Manda, your
mother's been calling the school again."

I'm offended. I have NOT called the school in over a year.

Cheers, and now you can't say you haven't heard a story in forever
and a day.

Kathy N-V (who still remembers how to make a good heading)

and I love your stories. Thanks very much for this one, and its SO GOOD to
see you here again. You've been sorely missed.

--
Sarajane's Polyclay Gallery
Beads-Dolls-Wearable Art
http://www.polyclay.com

See the progress at "Pieces"
http://www.polyclay.com/store.htm

"Kathy N-V" wrote in message
mcast.net...


As I said, I love physics teachers. They are so analytical and don't
let emotions factor into any situation. I'd have to become an axe
murderer if I had one for a husband, but having a physics teacher for
a friend is a very good thing, indeed.

As I mentioned in my quick wave of the hand post, my beloved daughter
is driving. Now, if you have a child who is not yet old enough to
drive, do not think that you will casually accept this rite of
passage, even if you accepted everything prior to that calmly, with
only thoughts of pride that your child was growing up so well.
Driving a motor vehicle is a whole 'nother thing.

Whether you want to know or not, articles about teen drivers coming
to a bad end are suddenly thrust before your eyes. A "kind" friend
shares that old Dear Abby article about a dead teen called "Please
God, I'm only Seventeen." Your auto insurance broker doesn't cause
you to fear for your kid's safety - unless she gets a parking ticket
(you don't let yourself think of anything worse), which will raise
your already scary insurance rates so high that you'll need to cash
in your 401K plan just to pay the premiums.

Letting your kid leave the house for that first time is hard, no make
that horrible: horrible for the stomach, the clenched teeth and the
way that you and your spouse are holding hands so tightly that bones
break. The cell phone becomes a truly blessed invention those first
few weeks as your kid calls to let you know that everything's fine,
and they made it to school safely.

One morning the telephone didn't ring on time. I decided that she
forgot to call, just as she forgets everything else. I went and got
myself an additional Diet Coke and tried to convince myself that
simple forgetfulness was the reason. Then the phone rings. Before
you have a chance to hope it is a telemarketer, the caller ID pops up
with the kid's name and number.

A tear filled voice tears at your heart. "Mama?" she said, "It's
me." (Like I thought it would be anyone else) "Everyone is all
right, but I had an accident," she said in that quick rush of words
that precedes a child bursting into tears, whether they are three or
thirty. "Nobody got hurt, but my car is all messed up and the man is
being really mean to me." I found out where she was calling from (a
half mile away, within spitting distance of the school), and told her
that "Daddy will be right there."

Cursing myself because I can no longer drive, Imade my way down the
hall to wake up Bob. "Honey," I said, in a voice that was as quiet
and trembly as Manda's had been, "Nobody's hurt --"

I paused momentarily to gawk. I had never seen anyone hover in the
air before. Bob had gone from deep sleep to hove in the space of
three words. I continued to tell him what happened, and before Bob
hit the ground, he was dressed. As I shouted Manda's location, Bob
ran down the hall, putting on shoes and grabbing car keys at the same
time. Before I had finished the sentence, the truck was squealing
out of the driveway.

I got to wait, stuck with that horrible feeling that means "I think
I'm going to throw up from anxiety, but all I have in my system is
Diet Coke." Somehow, the next fifteen minutes took three hours to go
by. Bob came home, rubbing his eyes in the gesture that means he
could feel grey hairs sprouting at that moment. He told me that the
other guy was standing over Manda, who was sitting on the curb,
crying. As he jumped out of the car, he could hear the guy cursing
Manda, and telling her that he was going to sue.

His shouting drained away almost instantly as he saw Bob coming
toward them, and Manda running to her Daddy. The fellow was much
more polite to Bob than he had been to Manda, especially when Bob got
into his personal space and asked him why he had thought shouting at
Manda was a good idea. The other guy squeaked that his son just got
his license, had had two accidents and drove like a bat outta hell.
He was just trying to help a fellow parent.

Bob told him that he didn't need any help, in that quiet voice that
sounds like a rumble coming from your feet. (I taught that rumble to
Bob, but it works better for him than it ever did for me) They
exchanged insurance information, Bob made Manda "get back on the
horse," and drive herself to school, then he came home to me.

I spent the rest of the morning taking care of things with the
insurance company. I was so emotionally wiped at the thoughts of
what could have been - a deadly crash in the dark of night, instead
of a two mile an hour fender bender in front of the post office. I
fell asleep at my desk, and didn't know it until Manda was gently
shaking me awake. We spent the next hour or two talking about the
accident from every possible angle, because Manda insisted that the
fellow made an illegal turn in front of her, and the man insisted
that he was driving along lawfully while Manda sped out of a side
street, ignored the stop signs, and deliberately rammed the side of
his brand new truck.

I thought the truth was somewhere in the middle, and with everything
being equal, they were going to find the new driver responsible for
the accident. I told Manda, who was indignant at the thought. I
didn't say anything at the time, but indignant wasn't what I was
feeling at the thought of those increased premums for six (!) years.

Then Manda pulled out a map-looking thing out of her backpack. It
was the map section of an accident report, blown up to full page
size. Manda told me what was going on between bites of pot roast.
(and this is why this story is named what it is)

When Manda went to school the morning of the accident, she was late
by a half hour. The attendance officer didn't require a note,
because she could see the accident from her office window, although
she didn't know who had been involved. Manda got a late pass to
admit her to physics.

When she got there, Manda's teacher asked what had happened. When
she mentioned "car accident," the teacher had seen it, along with
half the class or more. knowing that the kids would want to talk
about this to the exclusion of everything else, the teacher suddenly
changed his lesson for the day to rapid deceleration. (stopping)
The assigned homework was to take the two stories, and along with the
cell phone photos of both cars' damage, to map out exactly what
happened, and who was at fault. I wished I had this guy when I took
physics, back in the stone ages.

Manda, of course, simply filled out her map the same way that she had
filled out the real accident report. She had been excused from
making judgements about who was at fault. During the evening, she
fielded many phone calls from her friends, who wanted to know
specific angles and so forth. (Did I mention that her friends are
all boys, and all are in AP Physics with Manda?)

The next morning, the kids gave their presentations. Most of them
were close, but only the teacher had everything right. He showed the
kids how the only way the accident could have happened is if the
driver of the SUV made an illegal turn in front of the old Buick.
(yay!) Manda was given a copy of the report to turn in to the
insurance company.

About a week later, I got a call from a woman at the insurance
company, asking what the heck was the paper stuck in with the claim.
I explained, and she laughed. It wouldn't be admissable, of course,
because only the claim adjuster could make the decision as to fault
in the accident. But, as I predicted, it was likely to be determined
that the new driver (Manda) would be at fault.

We're still waiting to hear, and if we have to, we'll appeal any
unfavorable decision. But it was a great thing for this guy to make a
dry subject into a real life solution, and extremely thoughtful of
him to help Manda get a fair shake. And yes, I sent notes along to
the principal and superintendent of schools. (They must be waiting
with bated breath for Manda to graduate. Whenever they say anythng
about parental input, the kids all turn and say, "Hey Manda, your
mother's been calling the school again."

I'm offended. I have NOT called the school in over a year.

Cheers, and now you can't say you haven't heard a story in forever
and a day.

Kathy N-V (who still remembers how to make a good heading)

On Thu, 4 Jan 2007 15:05:37 -0500, Sarajane Helm wrote
(in message ):

and I love your stories. Thanks very much for this one, and its SO GOOD to
see you here again. You've been sorely missed.



I'm glad to be back. I really needed the time away to heal and to
try and get some strength and health back, and to maybe get my head
screwed back on straight. I've managed the first one, and am still
working on the other two.

I'm glad to be back, and even happier to see that some of the old
gang is still around, as well as quite a few other, newer names. Yay!

Kathy N-V

healed up and stronger, those two are great---but don't fret about which way
your head points. We love you being here even if it spins and ends up
facing backwards.

--
Sarajane's Polyclay Gallery
Beads-Dolls-Wearable Art
http://www.polyclay.com

See the progress at "Pieces"
http://www.polyclay.com/store.htm

"Kathy N-V" wrote in message
mcast.net...
On Thu, 4 Jan 2007 15:05:37 -0500, Sarajane Helm wrote
(in message ):

and I love your stories. Thanks very much for this one, and its SO GOOD
to
see you here again. You've been sorely missed.



I'm glad to be back. I really needed the time away to heal and to
try and get some strength and health back, and to maybe get my head
screwed back on straight. I've managed the first one, and am still
working on the other two.

I'm glad to be back, and even happier to see that some of the old
gang is still around, as well as quite a few other, newer names. Yay!

Kathy N-V

oh, and I do understand deeply about the new driver anxiety. My 17 yr old
kid is also learning and I am beginning to re-think my ban on pharmaceutical
aid. Some days a big bottle of Prozac satarts to sound good. Or maybe
straight to the laudenum! (only kidding...I think)

--
Sarajane's Polyclay Gallery
Beads-Dolls-Wearable Art
http://www.polyclay.com

See the progress at "Pieces"
http://www.polyclay.com/store.htm

"Kathy N-V" wrote in message
mcast.net...
On Thu, 4 Jan 2007 15:05:37 -0500, Sarajane Helm wrote
(in message ):

and I love your stories. Thanks very much for this one, and its SO GOOD
to
see you here again. You've been sorely missed.



I'm glad to be back. I really needed the time away to heal and to
try and get some strength and health back, and to maybe get my head
screwed back on straight. I've managed the first one, and am still
working on the other two.

I'm glad to be back, and even happier to see that some of the old
gang is still around, as well as quite a few other, newer names. Yay!

Kathy N-V

hate so say this (especially here, and after being absent for the best
part
of several months), I don't.

DD had a (used and reasonably inexpensive) car waiting for her when she

got her license (deal was too good to pass up). I had hoped that she'd
get her
license a few months earlier so that I wouldn't have to drop her off at
her
summer session (college) classes (before she graduated high school),
but
she didn't. At the end of summer break I told her that I wasn't going
to drive
her anymore, other than to school (on my way to work), period. She got
her license at the very end of that summer, about 5 days before going
back
to school, and since October that year she took her car every day
because
she needed it every afternoon (so much for buying a school bus pass).

As she's in college in Portland OR now, which has a very good public
transport
system (and we sold her car after she left, she busted one corner light
and
got one sidewall damage flat tire - that needed to be replaced anyway,
but
that was it), she doesn't need a car there and doesn't have one. Now
while
she is home for winter break she has on occasion driven DH's Explorer
(and
been offered my truck, but complaining about the sizes of both). Even
after
not having driven for 4-5 months we trust her with our vehicles ...

Trust your kids. I did have some water in my eyes after reading Kathy's
post, Manda was much more upset than the damage to the car would
(IMHO) justified, telling me that she's the kind of kid like ours (who
at
some point came home with a 3.0 GPA and wondered why we weren't as
upset as she was. the answer was "it's your problem, and seeing how
upset you are about it, we're sure you're going to do something about
it,
so why should we be upset?" - and anyway, a 3.0 GPA isn't _that_ bad).
If you have half level-headed kids, they'll do just fine - what you
have
to be afraid of is the idiots on the road, not them themselves. They'll
do fine, hopefully getting enough experience driving (and having their
reflexes in order) before they run into idiots on the road.

(BTW: DH teaches physics. In college. I'm a physicist myself by
education,
but I couldn't teach my way out of a wet paper bag)

Aloha,
Maren
Palms, Etc.: Tropical Plant Seeds - Hand-made Jewelry - Plants &
Lilikoi
http://www.jach.hawaii.edu/~maren/palms_etc/
- Royal Poinciana/Delonix Regia seeds available -
(which can be drilled into spacer bars, though I haven't done so yet)

Sarajane Helm wrote:
oh, and I do understand deeply about the new driver anxiety. My 17 yr old
kid is also learning and I am beginning to re-think my ban on pharmaceutical
aid. Some days a big bottle of Prozac satarts to sound good. Or maybe
straight to the laudenum! (only kidding...I think)

--
Sarajane's Polyclay Gallery
Beads-Dolls-Wearable Art
http://www.polyclay.com

See the progress at "Pieces"
http://www.polyclay.com/store.htm

"Kathy N-V" wrote in message
mcast.net...
On Thu, 4 Jan 2007 15:05:37 -0500, Sarajane Helm wrote
(in message ):

and I love your stories. Thanks very much for this one, and its SO GOOD
to
see you here again. You've been sorely missed.



I'm glad to be back. I really needed the time away to heal and to
try and get some strength and health back, and to maybe get my head
screwed back on straight. I've managed the first one, and am still
working on the other two.

I'm glad to be back, and even happier to see that some of the old
gang is still around, as well as quite a few other, newer names. Yay!

Kathy N-V