The sacred settings

Although those highly touted car gadgets are supposed to be helpful, they can be a source of irritation for mechanically challenged car owners.

However, if you were to ask the automobile engineers and manufacturers, they would probably say it was not their intention to irritate us. Intentional or not, the end result is still irritation. Let me explain.

If you are the primary driver of a vehicle, you tend to set everything up for maximum efficiency and convenience. Because we are a multitasking society, the set up may include: a menu from your favorite pizza place; pad and pen for jotting down notes; tissues and, depending on your preferences, makeup or shaving paraphernalia (or both).

Once every nook and cranny of the vehicle is stocked, you may want to add a few homey touches, such as strategically strewn trash on the floor and back seat. If you happen to own a pet that is a frequent passenger in your car, you have also added the promise of an unsuspecting human rider experiencing the delights of being covered in pet hair.

Having taken care of the essentials, we can customize the settings for the rear and side view mirrors as well as the all important driver's seat. Such seat settings include the perfect height, tilt and distance in relation to the steering wheel and the process may include pushing a button to save your personal settings. Let there be no doubt about this, such settings are sacrosanct. Changing them alters the driver's mood from chipper to decidedly dark and grumpy and may even lead to family discord.

Nevertheless, everyone who sits in the driver's seat of your car will change all the carefully chosen settings and leave them that way once they are through using said violated vehicle.

For example, when our 6-foot plus son drives my car, the driver's seat is nearly in the back seat, every mirror is contorted to accommodate his height and even the radio has morphed to fit his taste in loud music. When he no longer needs the car, he parks it in the garage.

The following morning, when mom is in a hurry (which is always), nothing puts a screeching halt to her timed-to-the-minute schedule like getting into the car after the Thoughtless Giant drove it. Her first clue that all is not as it should be in the vehicular universe is when she turns to sit down and finds herself sitting on the floorboard. Aside from the indignity of her position, her hands instead of her feet can now reach the pedals. A wonderful feat, if one is an orangutan instead of a short woman.

On a recent weekend, Hubby drove my car. When I slid behind the wheel on Monday morning, all the seat and mirror settings were still in Hubby mode. Since it was dark and raining, I immediately noticed the automatic windshield wipers were not working and neither were the daytime driving lights. Talk about a total button meltdown. Thanks, dear.

To be fair, when short little me drives his truck, I tend to leave things as I used them. As a result, Hubby cannot get in his truck because the seat is up against the steering wheel. This is because to reach the truck pedals with the tips of my toes, I have to move the seat forward. On the plus side, since driving his truck is similar to a contortionist's ballet, I am too intimidated to drive it fast.

In the world of short and tall drivers, a bit of cooperation is necessary, but the cooperation stops at the settings in your personal car. They are sacred (at least we would like to think so).

Elizabeth Cowan is a freelance writer and former Norman resident. E-mail: Elizabeth@elizabethcowan.com.