Formula One – The Beginning

People often said that when a young guy possesses a car it marks the end to your boyhood and enter the adult’s life. My brother left for Australia last month. Well, of course he won’t be bringing his Proton Iswara Aeroback 1.3(M) along. So, here I am, like any typical young brother inherits their big brother’s toy. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to big boy’s league.

Technically, I’m not a bad driver considering the fact I have no problem going uphill (the most terrifying module in driving test). Because of my parent’s unwillingness in trusting my capability, I was often denied my chance of driving their precious “baby” even though I passed my license way back 3 years ago. Frankly speaking, I don’t enjoy the privilege like some of my friend who their dad teaches them to maneuver the big thing even before they were 18. By the time they undergo driving test, it’s just a ground for them to strut their skills.

In my situation, my first handle of a car starts on my first hour of driving practice. To make matter worst, after only one hour of learning, I was instructed to hit the road. Luckily, I came back in pieces. Ok, back to story. My dad decides to ask me to drive back to my university campus because I’ll be driving this baby when the semester reopens. The horrible tale begins here. I has been told and warned before by my eldest brother that described the so-called “hell training” from our dad.

Everything ok when we started off the road at our own housing area with just a bit nagging by him. After we were halfway, hell’s gate broke loose. I was really annoyed by my dad constant harass which he wanted me to follow his driving style. Before this, he kept on teasing the way I sat which he thought not suitable. For your information, I am 6 foot tall. Fitting in the driver seat is always a problem for me. Because of my legs are long I tend to bend my knee. He disliked this and asked me to adjust my seat till my leg is straightened on the pedal like a Formula One driver I must say.

This made my view of the left front passenger’s (my dad’s seat) window being blocked by none other than my dad himself. What makes me irritated but amusing was that he didn’t like it when I moved my body forward to have a better view at corners. When I told him my purpose of doing, I was finally being allowed to push my driver seat back to the front with my knee bent.

This was just the beginning; the worst part haven’t started. Then, we reached a yellow box (where cars from side junction try their luck to snip out). I was quite slow in following the car in front, therefore leaving a gap. This makes the cars that were targeting for this opening to slice out. My dad was frightened and quickly asked me to brake and I obliged. Upset by my dad’s order, I allowed several cars came out from the junction. After a while, when I thought this was a bygone story, he brings out this issue again and told me that I was wrong and shouldn’t stop at a yellow box when I was driving on straight road. Hello? He was the one who ask me to stop at first place and now he seems forgotten of what he had said just a few minutes ago.

I do know, at yellow box when you are driving on straight road it’s alright to neglect cars coming out from roadside but the car’s head has already popped out halfway. If I collide with him, of course I’ll win if this matter was brought to arbitrary but I don’t want to visit the mechanic and use my insurance! Ok, move to the part where I was going thru a bumpy road. I ran into some potholes and my dad doesn’t seem to like the shaking and cautioned me to evade it or else the car’s suspension will break down easily. Fine, it was true. I accepted it.

So, the next time, I came to potholes again. I tried to evade as told before. Then, came another sinister attack on me being not stable in steering the car and moved it side to side. I’m speechless. Then what should I do? Whoa….the rest of the account is the same. The entire thing he said change not more than an hour. To add salt to wound, he scolded me every time I made mistake and this not only make me lost concentration but even my interest to drive. The way he mimicked the thing I’ve done wrong, for example stepped on the pedal repeatedly made me really fed up.

But in the end, I drew some solace from a disappointing outing that the fact I had a father to nag me. It’s a blessing in disguise to have someone who keeps you on your feet and not to brag off to people that you own car and drive as if the road belongs to you. Fernando Alonso… Watch your back…. A new Formula One driver is in the mould.