By TREVOR JACKSON
 Guest Column

The other day I was riding in the car with my father; we were talking about this and that, very casual like, and I bring up the subject of Google’s self-driving car. I say, “You think you would ever buy a self-driving car?”
His response? “Hell, no!” I was surprised. We debated and bantered over the subject.

“I like having control,” he said, gripping the steering wheel of our Subaru a little tighter. He held on even tighter when I mentioned that Google’s most recent prototype, in fact, had no steering wheel. Or even pedals. And starts testing on public roads this month. Admittedly, even I find this a little freaky. However, I am still on board with autonomous driving, and for two big reasons.

The first is that computers are so much cooler, calm and collected than humans are. Human beings are fragile; our driving can be inhibited by so many different factors: alcohol, lack of sleep, medication, road rage, etc. We have lives; we have worries; we have distractions; we have so many things that can put us in danger when we get behind the wheel.

But, the Google Car is a machine whose existence is entirely dedicated to and limited to getting you from A to B. The Google Car does not get drowsy; it does not get inebriated; it does not get loopy from medication; it does not get blinded by road rage.

It has over $100,000 worth of technology within it, all dedicated to driving. It has a LIDAR 64 beam Velodyne laser system mounted on its roof constantly reading and interpreting its surroundings, generating a 3D map of its environment for itself in real time. Tell me, do you have a LIDAR 64 Velodyne laser system when you drive? Huh? Do ya, Dad?!

The second big reason I’m for it is the convenience aspect. It may seem obvious,
everyone can imagine what they’d do with their free time: read a book, play a game, do homework, watch the game, take a nap, it’s endless.

But let me paint a bigger picture for you: It’s the middle of February, and you’re going to the movies with your significant other. You both get into your regular four-door sedan that you have to operate yourself, and you’re on your way.

For the 20-minute drive, you’re focused on the road, jittery from your Dutch Bros., and your significant other is focused on their phone for the whole ride, because they don’t want to distract you. For the whole ride, you don’t talk
much.

You get to the movie theater and the lot is full, and you have to drive down the
street and park on the curb. And damn it all, you suck at parallel parking. It takes a few tries to get it right; you step out to inspect your handiwork
only to find that you still are a good two feet from the curb, so you get in try it once more to correct it.

You finally walk to the theater, rush to get your seats (the trailers are already playing by this point), and sit down for your date. When the movie is done, its dark out and around 26 degrees outside. You walk down the dark and sketchy street to your car, and sit for another 10 minutes while you wait for the windshield to defrost.

It’s awfully cold. On the way back, you combat drowsiness, trying to focus on the yellow line, with the oncoming traffic headlights blaring in your eyes. You finally get home, and the both of you fall into bed, exhausted and defeated.

Now, let me paint another picture: It’s the middle of February, and you’re going to the movie with your significant other. You both get into your Google Self-Driving Car, and you’re on your way. For the 20 minute drive, you hold hands and fall asleep in each other’s arms for a little nap.

You arrive at the theater, get up, stretch, and the Google Car drops you off at the front door. You press a button, and the Google Car goes off to find itself somewhere to park.

You and your significant other stop to get a popcorn and Red Vines (you have
plenty of time), and sit down just in time for the trailers to start playing. At the end of the movie as the credits are rolling, you press the “Return” button on your key, and by the time you step out of the theater the Google Car is waiting for you at the front door, heated, ready to protect you from the cold and take
you both home to bed.

I will let someone, or something, do the driving for me any day. But if you, like my father, prefer having control, go ahead and grip your steering wheel tighter. I, on the other hand, am going to enjoy my nap.