Dear Crabby, Would you consider getting a Self-Driving Car?

Dear Crabby, Would you consider getting a Self-Driving Car?

Thank you, Barb B.

Dear Barb,

That’s a good question. A scary and an intriguing question. I like to drive and five years ago I answered a similar question sent in, but has my answer changed.

I’ve tinkered with cars my whole life — swapping out carburetors, changing plugs, replacing brakes, adding do-dads, and updating the gizmos — it’s fun, dirty, and time-consuming. But today, it’s almost impossible with these new cars. All I really have left is driving the darn things. But there may come a day, sooner or later, that I won’t want to (or can’t) drive my own automobile.

Dear Crabby sits infront of his laptop

When that sad day comes, what will be my choices. A taxi, Uber, grandchild chauffeur, or a self-driving car. Well, taxis are extinct in this area, I’m not really comfortable with that Uber thing, and what grandkid wants to drive around grandpa? That leaves me with walking, pubic transportation, or a self-driving car. You can see where this is going.

One day, I imagine I’ll have to have one. And hopefully, it will be when those crazy things work completely on their own, and are a safe and reliable choice.

I can picture it now … I’ll tell my watch to send a message to my car to warm up, “Crabby’s going out!” My robot butler will help me get dressed and get me to the car. The door will open automatically and the car, with a sultry, actress-of-the-1950’s kind of voice, welcomes me to the car — “Dearest Crabby,” she says, “Welcome, I’ve warmed the seat for you, how does that feel?” I tell the car it’s nice. And we’re off. She already knows where I want to go, or need to go. I have her read the weather report to me, show me a few funny cat videos, and she even tells me a joke (without me even asking). “What a car,” I say out loud, and she thanks me. Errands done. Let’s stop for lunch. The car drops me off in Downtown Rochester, probably Lipuma’s Coney Island. But there’s no parking. So I tell the car to drive around town and to honk the horn at people crossing the street. Traffic is horrible because everyone has their cars just driving around town until the owners are ready for them to return. But it comes on time because all the cars are connected and know where they need to be and when. She takes me home with soothing music playing and I dose off. My robot butler, let’s call him Crab Cakes, gets me back inside and to my favorite chair. What a nice day out.

So, yes, one day that will be me and my self-driving car.

Thanks for your question,

Dear Crabby

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About Dear Crabby

Stuck in a rut? Need some biased advice from a crabby old baby-boomer? Read regularly by thousands and loved by some, Dear Crabby answers questions weekly to life's challenges. Send him a note at

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