读大学的儿子又要离家了，让人最不放心的就是他的行车安全。儿子开车有四五年了，大错没有小错不断，嘱咐了又嘱咐，也不知他听进去了没有，想起许多年前Dear Abby写的一篇短文，专门警告这些刚学会开车的孩子们，特地从网上找来给他。

说起读Dear Abby的经历，可真有年头了。二十多年前我刚来美国时，发现自己在国内学了多年的英语和日常生活完全脱节，比我早来一步的老公推荐我每天读一段报纸，看一会电视，他就是靠读头版新闻加上看晚间新闻，很快提高了口语和听力。

我不喜欢新闻，那些国家大事世界大事中文版我都弄不懂，英文版就更别提了，只好找对自己胃口的内容。电视节目最先能看懂的是Lassie, 小男孩和狗，对话极简单，不懂英语的人大该也能猜出一二。听力稍稍提高后，改看Three’s Company， 很夸张的轻喜剧，常常把我乐得肚子疼。而报纸在很多年里我都全心全意地跟踪一个专栏：Dear Abby。

Dear Abby 是advice column, 笔者本名叫Pauline Phillips，Abby是她的笔名。她聪颖幽默，富于爱心，她的专栏内容常常就读者生活中遇到的小事给与指导，比如家庭妇女和丈夫争论，打扫卫生应该先吸尘还是先掸灰。更多的时候她会让读者一起讨论，有个妇女嫌丈夫睡觉打鼾（snore这个词就是在这学的），想把他扫地出门，丈夫不干，女人向Dear Abby抱怨，Dear Abby除了建议她丈夫看医生外，还征求大家意见，居然有个孤独的女人说，男人的鼾声对她象催眠曲，请你丈夫来我这睡。哈，我想那抱怨的女人一定会醋意大发，每夜把丈夫关在自己被窝里。还有时她会搞个小调查，比如谁是最年轻的妈妈，于是读者纷纷响应，你十五我十四地讲自己的痛苦经历，最后一个女人得了冠军，她十一岁生了女儿，现在二十二岁，而她十一岁的女儿也怀孕了。

英语提高了以后，我已经很多年不读Dear Abby了。在网上一查才知道，当年那个Dear Abby早已换人了，是Pauline的女儿，而这篇写给学车的孩子们的文章却常常被人想起：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!