When on Earth did cup-holders become a standard feature in vehicles? ‘She who must be obeyed’ now judges a car by the number of these receptacles.
What have we come to, when a vehicle, designed to transport us, in comfort admittedly, has been designed in a manner which allows us to drive or be driven with a cup of scalding liquid at our elbow?
Now, let me make it clear: This is no ‘holier-than-thou’ rant. No, indeed! I enjoy a cup of java as much as the next man. However, and I think that this is critical, I know that it distracts me, when I fumble around for a cup, raise it to my lips and try to control it, bumpy road surface permitting, so that I do not inadvertently scald my mouth.
Even if it is limited to passengers’ use only, there is a potential for driver distraction; especially if the passenger is next to the driver and has a cup of hot beverage lurking near a lap! All it takes is an unseen swerve, a sudden stop or, Heaven help us, a car tailgating and bumping into you, to cause this fiery liquid to cascade over a driver’s nether regions.
I am, of course, happy to acknowledge that a cup holder may be safer than allowing some people to hold a cup. There are those with seemingly congenital clumsiness, who appear destined to drop or spill anything they touch; for these, a cup holder is a wiser choice.
But the point we all seem to be missing, is not whether they are, or are not, safe. The point is, why are they there at all? Some cars even have a little tray behind the front seats, rather like in an aeroplane, so that rear-seat passengers can eat as they are driven, as well as glug away! There are vehicles with little televisions and even Internet capability aboard.
We never used to need all this. This is because we never associated the car with eating or drinking, or behaving as if we weren’t actually in a car. If a family was out for a drive, or going on a journey, then a stop or several stops were built into the itinerary. If there were children aboard, then a couple of colouring or reading books would be aboard. When the child would inevitably ask ‘are we nearly there?’ the colouring book was always a useful distraction. The only drink on board might be a baby’s bottle, usually filled with milk, which nearly always ended up on the upholstery and would smell sour for ages.
When I used to drive up to Asturias to see she who must be obeyed, I would put Eric, the dog, in the back, with all his bits and pieces, and we’d set off. We would stop every couple of hours for a break, which included an opportunity for me to slurp a coffee or eat a prato da dia, but I never thought to have food aboard, or have a drink next to me. Isn’t that what roadside restaurants and other pit-stops are for?
If mobile telephones are distracting, surely a lap full of hot liquid is as well?
Mike Gaunt is a former headmaster at St Christopher’s School, Bahrain
mikegaunt@gmail.com