Rising expenses and regulatory hurdles limit Americans’ mobility.
When I started driving, my folks planted me behind the wheel of a nearly unbreakable late-’70s Jeep Wagoneer. “The tank” got me to work, rock concerts, and parties. It got me through snowstorms that stranded lesser vehicles on the roadside. In a pinch, it could fit me, 10 of my friends, and a keg of beer in relative comfort (at least for the keg).
I miss the tank. Unlike our newer SUV, it would have barely suffered a scratch when my 16-year-old son hit a signpost. But I’m glad my kid, even without the tank to learn in, has taken to life behind the wheel and the freedom that comes with driving.
