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I live about 3 miles from Rossmoor Leisure World retirement community. It is a drive-through mausoleum. Six thousand old folks just circling the drain. Every one of them has a drivers license. They don't really steer their cars. They aim them. All you see is a little tuft of white hair and a pair of eyes peeking out from underneath the wheel.
There is a two lane curvy back road near my house that leads to Rossmoor. Because the road is narrow, the geriatric roadmasters generally navigate these roads by straddling the white line. If they encounter oncoming traffic, they frequently panic and lock up the brakes or over-correct and pitch their car off the road taking out mailboxes, bicyclists or unlucky pedestrians. There are dozens of accidents on this two mile stretch of roadway every year.
The problem is that the driving "priveledge" is their last connection to an independent life and is rarely surrendered willingly.
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My work here is nearly finished.
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