practice and perfection

So as you may remember from one of my earlier musings, I pride myself in being a pretty darn good manual driver.    I chuckle at the children who cruise around in one of those shift-for-you, park-for-you, break-for-you, navigate-for-you, call-your-friends-for-you, lock-for-you automatic automobiles.  But not only do I like to brag when it comes to my uphill and downhill stick shift skills, I also boost a big game when it comes to parking - especially in my oh-so-classically-San-Francisco sardine can of a garage.

You can see my baby tucked away there to the left

Not sure how the feat appears to an untrained viewer, but getting in and out of that little spot is a daunting task.  The first time I attempted it took me a full 15 minutes.

Each way.

While seemingly simple from the outside...

...this jarring little corner dishes out all kinds of trouble...

...as it requires you to hit a maximum turning radius

while avoiding nicking your car's lovely paint.

 

After much maneuvering in and out, however, I have become a complete and utter pro - sliding into my coveted spot within 7 seconds or less.  I tell everyone who asks (and many who don't) all about my beyond expert-like abilities when it comes to the garage.  I tell them I am able to do the same with any car.  On any day.  In any spot.  Come on now, try me. 

I now revel in the opportunity to park with an unknowing passenger who can't help but ooo and aaah at my mastery of this labyrinth of a concrete block.  I still smile remembering the first time I drove my best pal Charlotte in when she came to visit back in October - she gave the most pleasing squeal of delight being (or at least pretending to be) oh-so-impressed with my command of this convertible.

When I came back from break (a week in Florida and then a week in Switzerland), I hopped in my car ready to zoom out with all sorts of intensity, not thinking twice about my easy-as-pie morning back-out routine.  But instead of a flawless fluid finesse, that sneaky little corner caught me off guard - snapping my precious little side mirror into a frenzy.

After I calmed down from the shock of my lack of perfection, I analyzed the makings of the crushing crime scene.  It had been a measly two weeks, but my skills have already sunk to subpar.  Perhaps it wasn't my parking prowess but rather my parking practice that had pushed me up from being pitiful.  And without it (practice that is), I'd be right back down there at pitiful again.  

At first I was sad, but then excited -  if training could teach me this oh-so-mundane maneuver with such completion, it could likely do that same for just about anything.  Sky-diving, surfing, perhaps even golf.  The possibilities are endless.

Thankfully this little guy snapped right back together without a scratch to be seen - the perfect little reminder that practice, while perfection in time it makes, does not lead to a permanent skill set.  While the sky is the limit when it comes to what can be learned and even mastered, without perpetual practice, my skills will slowly and sullenly sink.

xoxo

KK