讀大學的兒子又要離家了，讓人最不放心的就是他的行車安全。兒子開車有四五年了，大錯沒有小錯不斷，囑咐了又囑咐，也不知他聽進去了沒有，想起許多年前Dear Abby寫的一篇短文，專門警告這些剛學會開車的孩子們，特地從網上找來給他。

說起讀Dear Abby的經歷，可真有年頭了。二十多年前我剛來美國時，發現自己在國內學了多年的英語和日常生活完全脫節，比我早來一步的老公推薦我每天讀一段報紙，看一會電視，他就是靠讀頭版新聞加上看晚間新聞，很快提高了口語和聽力。

我不喜歡新聞，那些國家大事世界大事中文版我都弄不懂，英文版就更別提了，只好找對自己胃口的內容。電視節目最先能看懂的是Lassie, 小男孩和狗，對話極簡單，不懂英語的人大該也能猜出一二。聽力稍稍提高后，改看Three’s Company， 很誇張的輕喜劇，常常把我樂得肚子疼。而報紙在很多年裡我都全心全意地跟蹤一個專欄：Dear Abby。

Dear Abby 是advice column, 筆者本名叫Pauline Phillips，Abby是她的筆名。她聰穎幽默，富於愛心，她的專欄內容常常就讀者生活中遇到的小事給與指導，比如家庭婦女和丈夫爭論，打掃衛生應該先吸塵還是先撣灰。更多的時候她會讓讀者一起討論，有個婦女嫌丈夫睡覺打鼾（snore這個詞就是在這學的），想把他掃地出門，丈夫不干，女人向Dear Abby抱怨，Dear Abby除了建議她丈夫看醫生外，還徵求大家意見，居然有個孤獨的女人說，男人的鼾聲對她象催眠曲，請你丈夫來我這睡。哈，我想那抱怨的女人一定會醋意大發，每夜把丈夫關在自己被窩裡。還有時她會搞個小調查，比如誰是最年輕的媽媽，於是讀者紛紛響應，你十五我十四地講自己的痛苦經歷，最後一個女人得了冠軍，她十一歲生了女兒，現在二十二歲，而她十一歲的女兒也懷孕了。

英語提高了以後，我已經很多年不讀Dear Abby了。在網上一查才知道，當年那個Dear Abby早已換人了，是Pauline的女兒，而這篇寫給學車的孩子們的文章卻常常被人想起：Dear Abby， 再登一次那篇文章吧。

PLEASE GOD, I'M ONLY 17

The day I died was an ordinary school day. How I wish I had taken the bus. But I was too cool for the bus. I remember how I wheedled the car out of Mom. "Special favor," I pleaded. "All the kids drive."

When the 2:50 bell rang, I threw all my books in the locker. I was free until 8:40 tomorrow morning! I ran to the parking lot, excited at the thought of driving a car and being my own boss. Free!

It doesn't matter how the accident happened. I was goofing off -- going too fast. Taking crazy chances. But I was enjoying my freedom and having fun. The last thing I remember was passing an old lady who seemed to be going awfully slow. I heard the deafening crash and felt a terrible jolt. Glass and steel flew everywhere. My whole body seemed to be turning inside out. I heard myself scream.

Suddenly I awakened; it was very quiet. A police officer was standing over me. Then I saw a doctor. My body was mangled. I was saturated with blood. Pieces of jagged glass were sticking out all over. Strange that I couldn't feel anything.

Hey, don't pull that sheet over my head! I can't be dead. I'm only 17. I've got a date tonight. I'm supposed to grow up and have a wonderful life. I haven't lived yet. I can't be dead!

Later I was placed in a drawer. My folks had to identify me. Why did they have to see me like this? Why did I have to look at Mom's eyes when she faced the most terrible ordeal of her life? Dad suddenly looked like an old man. He told the man in charge, "Yes, he is my son."

The funeral was a weird experience. I saw all my relatives and friends walk toward the casket. They passed by, one by one, and looked at me with the saddest eyes I've ever seen. Some of my buddies ware crying. A few of the girls touched my hand and sobbed as they walked away.

Please -- somebody -- wake me up! Get me out of here! I can't bear to see my mom and dad so broken up. My grandparents are so racked with grief they can hardly walk. My brothers and sisters are like zombies. They move like robots. In a daze, everybody. No one can believe this. And I can't believe it, either.

Please don't bury me! I'm not dead! I have a lot of living to do! I want to laugh and run again. I want to sing and dance. Please don't put me in the ground. I promise if you give me one more chance, God, I'll be the most careful driver in the whole world. All I want is one more chance!

Please, God, I'm only 17!