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Show BROADWAY AND MAIN STREET If the Brakes Don't Work Just Hit Something Cheap By BILLY ROSE A fellow tried to sell me a helicopter the other day. He told me I could hop from the roof of my theatre to my place in Westchester West-chester in 20 minutes, and added that it was as easy to drive as a car. I told him I wasn't interested because I couldn't drive a car. ' How come? Didn't I ever try and learn? Just once. And here's what happened. . . . One day several summers ago, my wife said, "I wish you'd learn how to drive. Every time you want a paper or a pack of cigarettes, I've got to stop what I'm doing and chauffeur you into the village." "Okay," I said, "if you'll play teacher." Next morning I crawled into the r car beside Eleanor. "Just turn this few I jigger over," sne began, "push i n this dingus, pull out this doohickey, step on this wing-doodle, wing-doodle, press down o n this thing a m a b o' b, and you're all set to go." "What's this giz- from green to red, and from red back to green. A cop came over. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Haven't we got any colors you like?" After switching the radio on and off, I suddenly pressed the right thing. In the order of the way it happened, I grazed the cop, skidded skid-ded through the safety zone, clipped the fender on a bus, and came to rest with my bumper against a fire plug. The cop stalked over, took a handkerchief out of his pocket and dropped it in front of the car. "Lookit, Gene Autry," he said. "I wana see you do that all over again, and this time pick up the handkerchief with your teeth." Eleanor gave him the -smile that used to make the front cover of "Life." "He's learning to drive," she said. "No kidding!" said the cop. "How long is this class going to last? Some other drivers would like to use this road when Sonny Boy gels through with it." "What did I do wrong?" I asked the officer. , "Didn't you hear my whistle? Didn't you see my signal?" he demanded, de-manded, i I shook my head. The cop sighed. "I'd better go home," he said. "I don't seem to be doing much good around here." Billy Rose m0?.. j asked. "The hand brake," she said. "You throw it on quickly in case of emergency." "What happens if the brakes dnn't work?" "Hit something cheap," advised my spouse. A MOMENT LATER the car went hiccuping down the road. Then for a mile it went smooth as you please. A feeling of confidence came over me, the same feeling all new drivers get just before the lights go out. I pressed down on the gas. "The pistons seem to be knocking," knock-ing," 1 said professionally. "Pistons nothing," said Eleanor. "Those are my knees." Everything went fine until we got to the traffic light in the village. vil-lage. I forgot to press the hickey-madoodle hickey-madoodle on the gilhooley and the car stalled. The lights changed There are two stone posts flaujsntg the drive which leads up to our home. I got past them without a scratch also without the rear bumper. That did it. Since then, I've never been behind be-hind a wheel. When Eleanor and I go driving I sit in the back seat and read the Burma Shave signs. The only concession I've made to the Automotive Age is to learn how to fold a road map. I THREW THE CAR Into reverse and backed away from the fire plug. "If you're going to drive much," yelled the cop, "I'd have the car painted red on one side and blue on the other, so the witnesses will contradict each other." I had only one more mishap getting get-ting home. I scraped a guy's fender. fen-der. He was pretty nice about it. "It's my fault," he said. "I saw you coming. I should have driven into the fields and avoided you." |