The First Time I Ever...
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There's a first time for everything, and no one claims to understand that better than humorist Kevin Lawson. Go ahead, ask him. The First Time I Ever... covers many of the most memorable "firsts" in a boy's life, from the first taste of pizza to meeting her parents to buying a house. There's also snowball fights, R-rated movies, and prank phone calls in the mix, so if nostalgia's your game, Kevin Lawson's the name. Drove A Car The first time I drove a car, I felt like a lion stepping into the wild-excited, terrified, and completely unprepared for the chaos that awaited me. I still remember the...
There's a first time for everything, and no one claims to understand that better than humorist Kevin Lawson. Go ahead, ask him. The First Time I Ever... covers many of the most memorable "firsts" in a boy's life, from the first taste of pizza to meeting her parents to buying a house. There's also snowball fights, R-rated movies, and prank phone calls in the mix, so if nostalgia's your game, Kevin Lawson's the name. Drove A Car The first time I drove a car, I felt like a lion stepping into the wild-excited, terrified, and completely unprepared for the chaos that awaited me. I still remember the day vividly, like it was yesterday, even though it was a decade ago. My dad, bless his heart, decided it was time for me to take the wheel. He had that look in his eye, the kind that said, "This is going to be a disaster, but let's do it anyway." We hopped into his old sedan, a car that had seen better days-much better days. The upholstery was a patchwork of stains that told stories of spilled coffee, fast food, and who knows what else. I slid into the driver's seat, and it felt like I was stepping into a spaceship. The dashboard was a confusing array of buttons and knobs, and I half expected to find a button that launched a missile or something equally catastrophic. My dad, sitting in the passenger seat, gave me a reassuring pat on the back, which I interpreted as "You're going to need this." I turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared to life, sounding more like a disgruntled cat than a well-oiled machine. My heart raced. I was suddenly aware of every single car in the driveway, as if they were all judging me. "What does she think she's doing?" they seemed to whisper. I took a deep breath, gripped the steering wheel, and put the car in reverse. Now, reversing is an art form that I had not yet mastered. I glanced over my shoulder, but instead of focusing on the road, I became mesmerized by the sight of my dad's terrified face in the passenger seat. He looked like he was about to witness a train wreck. I backed out of the driveway, and somehow, I managed to avoid the trash cans, the garden gnome, and the neighbor's cat, who was blissfully unaware of the impending doom. Once I was on the road, I felt like a rock star. I was in control! I was invincible! I was... going 15 miles per hour in a 30 zone. My dad, trying to be supportive, said, "You can speed up a little, you know." I shot him a look that said, "I'm not trying to become a statistic today." As I drove, I quickly learned that the road was a minefield of distractions. There were pedestrians, cyclists, and the occasional squirrel that seemed to have a death wish. I was hyper-aware of everything around me, like a deer caught in headlights. My dad, sensing my anxiety, decided it was a good time to give me driving tips. "Remember to check your mirrors," he said. "And don't forget to signal!" Signal? I had barely mastered the art of steering without veering into the next lane. I tried to signal, but instead, I turned on the windshield wipers. Suddenly, I was swiping at imaginary rain while my dad was frantically trying to turn them off. "No, no, no! That's not the signal!" he exclaimed, and I could feel my confidence plummeting faster than the stock market...
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