I'm driving 65 mph on I-495, cars whizzing by me like I'm standing still (yeah, that's me in the picture above).
Two guys darting in and out of traffic like it's some video game chase--I can only imagine how fast they're going. I'm on the gas just to keep up with the flow, the left foot covering the pedal (yeah, that's old-school bi-pedal technique), just in case . . . momentarily reverting to what Mr. Shaw instructed back in my tenth grade driver's ed class.
Then comes the inevitable question from the
backseat driver, who actually occupies the other seat in the front. You know what I mean? (remember, a backseat driver is a common metaphor for someone who gives you unwanted directions when you are driving, whether they're in the back or the front)
"Are you using cruise control?"
"No," I answer curtly.
"Why not? Doesn't your foot get tired?" the passenger harps.
It is at that point that I begin my rant on the dangers of cruise control.
Clicking on the cruise control does prevent tired, cramping feet, I say. However, it has its problems, too. For one, it lulls you into a false sense of security, and the feet usually get further and further away for both the gas AND the brake pedals. At that point, how much control do I really have?
Like my car, I don't like to put my life in "cruise control." I want to be the one in charge as much as I can be, without being a "control freak." I'm no risk-taker, so most of the time I travel the "road more taken." And that's OK with me. I like to know where I'm going, traveling at my own speed. I haven't driven further north than Saratoga Springs, NY, or more south than Augusta, GA, but that doesn't mean I've led a boring, provincial life, either. I can make a Saturday night trip to
Bed, Bath, and Beyond an adventure by taking some of the back roads to see the Belted Galloway cows on Center Meeting Road (
click to enjoy) in Centreville.
How are you "driving" yourself through
life?
Do you gas up first, and then check the oil, wipers, and air pressure before a big trip?
Do you have the "pedal to the metal" or are you driving more cautiously with "both hands on the wheel at 10 before 2?"
Do you prefer major roadways like the Kirkwood Highway or would you rather take the more scenic route?
When you drive, are you easily lured into the local McDonald's at the sight of the golden arches, or can you get from point A to point B without making a single stop?
Do you use your cell phone while driving, chatting and texting away instead of paying attention to the road? It's against the law, you know.
Obviously, all of these driving situations can be applied metaphorically to situations in our lives.
For instance, the guy who gases up and checks out his car before a trip is the man who begins all his endeavors in life with preparation and a plan.
The "pedal to the metal" driver travels recklessly through life, hellbent on getting things done in a hurry without concern for safety for himself or anyone else.
The guy who stops at McDonald's, well, he needs a little bit more self-control, doesn't he? Can't he wait a few minutes to get home to snack on last night's leftovers?
Hopefully, you have the idea of what makes a CONCEIT, an elaborate (sometimes far-fetched) extended metaphor. Two things that are essentially unalike, like driving a car and living one's life, are compared. The "extended" part of the metaphor means that different parts of each procedure are compared, like the examples that I've given above comparing driving a car to living one's life.
So now it's your turn.
Think of an area in which you have some knowledge and expertise. Maybe it's a hobby (reading) or activity (playing a sport, dancing, fishing etc.).
Think of a metaphor, and then extend it by breaking it down into parts.
For instance, reading a book is like developing a strong friendship.
How might choosing a book to read be like finding a friend? Examine its cover, its prologue, the reviews on the cover. How might this be similar to entering into a friendship? You can go on from here, and talk about opening the book the first time, feeling the stiffness of the book's bindings, maybe reading a few uneventful pages and then putting it down. How might this be like the beginning of a friendship, too?
Choose between one of these two assignments:
1. Make a conceit comparing two dissimilar but similar processes, like reading a book and making a friend.
2. Tell me what your LIFE is like. Let's avoid the commonly used "roller coaster" or "box of chocolates" metaphors. Even my "highway" metaphor has been done before.
AVOID COMPARISONS THAT ARE TOO EASY TO UNDERSTAND because they are too similar.
For either choice, make sure you extend your general comparison with at least SIX specific comparisons. You'll probably find yourself doing many more.