When my dad got into his late 70s I started to worry about his driving. He was constantly picking up and driving to Tucson, Yellowstone, wherever and whenever the urge to move took him. I had visions of his having a heart attack on some mountain road out west, taking several cars with him, and the estate ending up in unlawful death suits. When his oncologist made him give up driving at the age of 83, I heaved a big sigh of relief.