We have heard it said by many people many times, “There is a fine line between bravery and stupidity.” I met an individual this weekend that I have yet to decide on which side of that fine line he should reside. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and withhold my final judgment until my daughter and the rest of her driver’s education car mates complete their behind the wheel training. A driver’s education instructor is a saint with a clipboard, high blood pressure and a half spilt cup of coffee.

My daughter and her 29 driver’s education classmates each have to log 6 hours behind the wheel with the above mentioned lunatic seated in the passenger seat. Correct me if I’m wrong, there’s a pretty good chance I am, but that equals 180 hours of clenching, cursing, and cringing. This Sunday the instructor joy rode around Rapid City from 7:00 AM until 7:00 PM with six different teenagers for two hours at a time.

Why would anyone do this to themselves? I teared up a bit just thinking about the self-imposed torture the instructor endured. I flat out wailed when I found out he does three separate sessions of this course over the next 4 months…and all the classes are full. That’s 540 hours which would be one long 22 day drive if you strung them all together…this guy needs a hug and a snifter of rum. I’ll provide the rum if someone else will volunteer a hug.

Generally when you mention something like this there is always someone who pipes up and says, “Yeah but I bet he makes pretty good money doing it.” Pretty good money? He’ll need pretty good money to help him walk upright again after sitting in a car for 540 hours. You tell me what you feel is “pretty good money” then ride around town for twelve hours with teenage drivers and tell me again what “pretty good money” is. I bet we’ll see a drastic upward trend in the dollar amount and an adjustment of your definition of pretty good money.

I can remember driving around Lignite with our driver’s education instructor. There’s not all that much difference between the traffic in Lignite and the traffic in Rapid City. The only differences I can conclude are that in Lignite you don’t have to worry about running a red light, there’s no need to merge or exit, and blinkers are optional.

Probably the biggest difference is that most of us had been driving for 6 years prior to having to take drivers education to make it “legal”. Grandpa Ardell was an excellent instructor. His program included driving around the light pole in the yard at the farm with the riding lawn mower, advancing up to his Chevy Chevette, and then graduating to a tractor. I never graduated.

Somewhere tonight a full grown man cried himself to sleep only to startle himself awake reaching into the darkness for a steering wheel and frantically jabbing his foot into the bedding searching for a brake pedal. Is this man brave? Is this man stupid? I’m leaning towards brave, but then I’m stupid that way.