Dear Humans,

I’ve pulled into my garage thousands of times. At least once a day for years and years. And yet I’ve still clipped my mirror, every once in a while I’ll bang my door on the wall I parked too close to, and about once a month my wife comes in from the garage and says, “You parked like a real moron out there.” 

If I were smart I’d get some sort of parking aid: hang a tennis ball on a string from the ceiling, place a parking mat on the floor, or mount one of those parking assistant lasers on the wall.

Because being smart starts with humility. It means knowing our limitations and knowing when to ask for a little help. But rather than doing that we too often rely on our own woeful skills. Rather than ding our pride, we ding our car doors.

Sincerely,

Mr. Curt