AND DON’T READ a book while driving, either …. (Shutterstock).

April has been declared “Distracted Driving Month” by police and other traffic folks. I’m pretty sure what they mean by that is you should not be distracted while driving.

I am a pretty darn safe driver now, but in my youthful days I sort of – well – pushed the envelope a bit. I never drank alcohol and drove … Indeed I never drank alcohol at all. These days my limit is one beer a month and never before getting behind the wheel.

But way back long ago I created new categories of distractions. Back before Barnes & Noble, the best big bookstore in Southern California was Pickwick Books in Hollywood.

So once a month or so, I would drive my Chevy Nova up there and if I had snagged a tasty literary gem, I would … hold your breath … start reading it on the drive home. I mean, I did glance up regularly to assess the traffic situation, but ….

Back in the OC, my favorite pizza place was Marri’s in Anaheim on Katella Avenue. So I would order the pizza in advance, pick it up and drive back home to GG while … hold your breath … I would eat the entire pizza (medium) on the journey back to Main Street.

In those days my metabolism was so amped-up that I could chow like that for each meal and still keep that (somewhat now departed) flat tummy without much effort.

My most homeric driving offense was on the 99 Freeway along the spine of California going south from Redding to the OC. My Chevy Blazer’s A/C was kaput and it was a hot summer’s day.

So, natch, I rolled down the driver’s side window, and – what the heck – decided to cool off my left foot (not like Daniel Day-Lewis) by sticking it out the window.

Luckily I have always been an ace one-foot pedal jockey, or I would not be here to write this confessional.
To paraphrase my parents: don’t do as I did, you dumb son-of-gun. You think you’re immortal?