Cruising down the freeway
By Roo
I had a dream. I saw myself seated in a red Jaguar. Sunglasses perched atop my head. Driving along a newly carpeted highway by the sea.

The Giant Dictionary of Dreams, which I had bought as a gift for a family member, now sits on my bedside table. Ruffling through its pages I deciphered the hidden message in my dream. I was destined to drive.

Yippee! The next Breakfast Table Discussion ran something like this:

Me: The Dream Book says I should drive.

Sibling: Yawn.

Parent I: Didn't someone gift that to me as a birthday present some time ago?

Me: That's beside the point. Someone's looking down on me, and demanding that I learn to drive.

Sibling: I always knew she was schizophrenic.

Parent II: There's that book about Auto Mechanism in my room. Maybe you should start reading up on that.

Touchdown for me. I had convinced them. But three months later I still hadn't read the book. And was far from getting into the driver's seat of a car. I brought the subject up at the next breakfast table meeting. No response. I persevered. And wonder of all wonders they agreed to allow the driver to teach me to drive.

There remained a problem. No one was going to entrust their precious vehicles to me; L board or no L board. I begged and pleaded. And was given an enormous car. It used the old form of 'push start'. "Once you get used to this, you can even drive a lorry or a bus," they explained. That's beside the point. I want to learn to drive a simple four-wheeled vehicle that is closer to ground level than a truck. But I kept quiet and the next Saturday there I was with my newly made L boards flashing in blood red on a newly carpeted road by the sea.

But the dream ended there. My Instructor (DI) said I'd get the basics under a few hours and could pass my exam in a week. It sounded like the kind of plan that I liked. I was taught the ABC's of the car. There's the accelerator, the brake and the clutch set in alphabetical order for one's convenience. To start the car, simply insert the car key (I was so cool!) into the ignition and turn twice anti-clockwise (or was it clockwise?). Then one would press the clutch. Drag the gear to first, accelerate and go.

I could have learnt this before I got into Kindergarten. But the car had other plans. In order to push the clutch to an extent to which I could drag the gear, I had to slide off my seat and thrust all my weight on it. Then in order to drag the gear I had to sit myself back down on the driver's seat (Could this get any worse?). It was a tedious process but the DI said I'd master it within a few minutes.

Boy, was he wrong. The walkaholics (health conscious mortals who jog on the beach on a daily basis) nearby badgered me with questions. Could they push the car for me? (Thinking I didn't know the hidden benefits that would have on their upper arms) No way. I was going to make this car move. And it did. Two hours into my first lesson and I could make a car move.

That done, the next session was scheduled for the following week. "How did it go?" asked Sibling with concern (false, no doubt). "Great, I made the car move" "Did you push it or did DI push it?" I gave up. There's no point in wasting great driving energy on Sibling.

My lessons continued. And at the end of a month (didn't he promise a lesser amount of time?) I could drive quite proficiently on a straight road. Provided that, of course, there was no traffic, no walkaholics, no traffic lights, no dogs and especially no cows.

DI's contract with us expired. And I had to sadly bid my driving lessons goodbye. But not for long. I had promised myself that I would get the licence. A year passed by and still nothing. At the next Dinner Table conference I took on a new approach. "What will happen if there's an emergency at home and there's no one to drive the injured to hospital?" "You could call 422222," suggested Sibling. "You could try public transport - the bus for instance." "I think our neighbours will be willing to drive you" "Drive me?" I asked confused. "Since it would obviously be you who'd meet with a terrible accident." Where did that come from? I got the conversation under control and decided that the straightforward approach was the best way to go. "Could I learn to drive again please?"

Shock. Who would teach her? "No, I'm not letting her anywhere near my car. I wouldn't let her near my matchbox cars." (That was Sibling) But for once fate was on my side and a Proper Driving Instructor (PDI) who does not make false promises on the length of the course popped up. I called her up and she said, "Since you seem to know the basics it should be a breeze." There was also the added advantage that the lessons would take place in her car. (Which I was sure was a multi driver; clean, not shaped at all like a lorry, with a functioning clutch, kind of car.)

Sunday afternoon appeared. The doorbell rang. I'd dressed for the occasion. You cannot drive such a fancy car in rags, could you? I opened the door with what I hoped was a look of deep intelligence. There was nothing to be seen. Except for a half corroded, half white old hatchback, which looked like it belonged in a junkyard. I closed the door. The bell rang again. It's those wretched kids from down the road I muttered to myself opening the door once again. Nope, it was my PDI - I glanced around once again and she said "hop in."

My worst nightmare had come true. It was the half corroded, half white hatchback that I was to drive. Smiling bravely I got in. Nobody seemed to be on my side. I started the 'car' hoping to impress her. PDI smiled. But that was it. The car did not move. PDI very delicately said, "Maybe we need to start from the beginning." I could do little but agree. And so it went. I learnt to drive straight, take turns, climb hills; chase cows using this cool piece of equipment called the horn (Which PDI insisted only private bus drivers made the best use of), use the signal lights and reach the clutch without getting off the seat. My average speed limit was roughly twenty kilometres per hour, but that didn't matter.

A few months later I was given the bible of all drivers - the Highway Code and asked to learn it. I was now ready for the test. I went, and believe it or not, I drove and I passed.

Happy, I left for home. And I haven't got into a car since then. Why you ask?, Well it's simple really; Driving is the biggest farce ever. It's stressful, pitiful and nothing like my dream. Bus anyone?

Charlton Heston's last stand
On the one hand, he is the towering actor who starred in some of the biggest films of the 20th century - The Ten Commandments, Ben Hur and Planet of the Apes. On the other hand, Heston has become one of America's most polarising figures as the fiery spokesman for the National Rifle Association.

In August, Heston, now 79, announced that he was suffering from Alzheimer's disease. He invited Peter Jennings to his home for what may be his last opportunity to go on record in an in-depth interview. Jennings visited Heston in his California home to survey his extraordinary life and career and to learn whether today he considered himself an actor or activist.

In his small, private study in the home he has lived in for more than 40 years, he is surrounded by memories of an actor's life.

"This is the staff of Moses. This is what I used to part the Red Sea with," Heston said.

There are guns in Heston's study as well including two pistols he particularly treasures. Heston said, "These are two pistols that belonged to Thomas Jefferson and now I have them. I wonder what Mr. Jefferson would think of that?"

Heston acknowledges that when he talks about guns, his strident leadership of the NRA often leaps to the foreground in people's minds, perhaps supplanting the image of the legendary film actor.

"It might, I can think of other things I've done and said that are more important, you know."

Larger than life Heston says that he is first an actor. He fell in love with acting during a lonely childhood in rural Michigan. Acting was his refuge.

Time and again, directors cast Heston in the roles of larger-than-life characters. "Larger than life, but they were alive. Larger than the rest of us, is the proper way to put it," Heston said.

"You cannot imagine what it's like to hear a crowd of thousands and sometimes it is thousands saying, 'Mossa, Mossa, Mossa.' It's stunning. It really is stunning," Heston said, recalling the reaction of the Egyptian extras in The Ten Commandments. Most of them had never seen a movie and they really believed he was Moses.

Heston gets something of that same reaction when he speaks at an NRA convention. In the movies, or on the political stage, Heston loves the power that he has with the crowd. And his abilities as an actor have served his political goals.

Heston has helped turn the NRA into one of the most powerful political organisations in the country. NRA membership has more than doubled since Heston became president of the group in 1998.

Heston said he became involved with the group because he grew up in a hunting country and was exposed to firearms as a boy. "It was something I was comfortable with and something that, that when it became at risk, when there were people, who were opposed to it, I thought well, wait a minute. I don't believe that; I believe those guys are wrong. They're absolutely wrong," Heston said.

Heston's role at the NRA has made him a particularly divisive figure in American politics.

Heston has some second thoughts about belittling President Clinton at an NRA rally in which he said, "Mr. Clinton, sir, America doesn't trust you with our 21-year-old daughters, and we sure lord don't trust you with our guns!" He also says he regrets calling Clinton a liar.

"That was probably unkind of me," Heston said, "You shouldn't call people names like that."

So how should Heston be remembered? Perhaps, for him, actor and activist are the same thing.

Heston wrote in his autobiography, In the Arena, that all good politics is in part performance, and he often cites Ronald Reagan.

In fact, Heston and Reagan have led remarkably parallel careers. Both were actors, both were heads of unions, both moved from one end of the political spectrum to the other beginning as liberal Democrats and becoming conservative Republicans. Both men have had decades-long marriages. And, finally, both were diagnosed with Alzheimer's.

Heston and his wife, Lydia, met when they were both studying acting at Northwestern University in Chicago. After a lifetime together in Hollywood, they are confronting his Alzheimer's together.

"I was appalled. I was stunned. it never occurred to me that there was anything wrong," Lydia Heston said, describing her reaction to her husband's Alzheimer's diagnosis.

Lydia Heston said her husband is dealing with the diagnosis very well. "He's terribly strong and I believe he has a lot of time left. I have to believe that." Family has always been important to Heston. He travelled the world making films and he usually took Lydia and their children, Fraser and Holly, with him.

Heston says the most important decision he ever made in his life was to marry Lydia.

"I couldn't be me without her. I'll tell you that," Heston said, "I couldn't begin to be me without her."

Lydia Heston said the public doesn't see an important aspect of her husband's personality. "I would say how kind and gentle he is. That's not supposed to be a part of his personality. But it is there," she said. Lydia Heston did not know that her husband was going to become leader of the NRA, and she wasn't initially happy about it. "I came into the kitchen and there was the radio playing and I heard the name Charlton Heston. I didn't hear what it was about. But I knew. I thought, 'there goes my life,'" she said.

She said she knew Charlton would take the commitment seriously. "I knew instantly that it was something that was important to him. And that he felt a great deal about it. And I, I really don't resent it so much anymore."

Heston does much less for the NRA these days. Travelling is a strain. Last month he did manage to go to Oklahoma City where he was honoured with a life-size statue of him at the Cowboy Museum. Heston was very pleased that his statue would stand near one of Ronald Reagan.

They say that Alzheimer's is toughest, not for the sufferers, but for those around them.

You can see the signs, of course. He forgets things. He repeats things. Slowly, he is changing. He decided to make a very public announcement about his condition because he never wanted to be in the position that he couldn't say goodbye.

The Hestons said almost immediately after Charlton made his announcement, Nancy Reagan, who has been caring for Ronald Reagan, called them. "She didn't make any attempt to gloss over it or pretend that it was less than it was.

But she did say that any time I wanted to talk to her, that I could call her or go and see her. And I was deeply moved by that," Lydia said.

Ronald Reagan announced his Alzheimer's diagnosis in November 1994 and Nancy Reagan has described the experience of caring for him as a particularly lonely one. Lydia Heston said, "I asked her, I said, 'Does he know you?'" Heston said, "And she said, 'no.' And there was a lot in that 'no.'"

As determined as he is to fight his illness, Charlton Heston said he realises it is not going to go away. He said, "You have to take it as it comes. Do the best with your life you can. And what can't be cured, must be endured, as somebody said."
ABC News

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