


Every time I get in my car, I’m flummoxed by the fact that auto makers cannot solve the problem of the “blind spot.” It doesn’t matter how much I adjust my right side mirror, there is still the proverbial blind spot, that little time/space continuum which large SUVish objects and tiny MiniCooperish objects disappear into and suddenly loom into my vision just as I’m about to sideswipe them. Maybe I’m frustrated by this phenomenon because it mirrors my own tendency toward personal blind spots, those areas into which my own faults and flaws seem to disappear, only to pop up and blindside me at critical junctures. If only Honda and my therapist could get together for a brainstorming session and come up with a gadget that would warn me of road hazards, love accidents and soul tolls ahead.