Confessions of a foolish dialing driver

I have an office outside the office. It has lovely wood grain details, beige upholstery and a comfy reclining chair. Never one for predictability, it also has air bags, automatic locks and a sunroof.

That's right. I'm one of those fools driving around in my 2003 Honda Accord -- only two previous owners -- conducting my business with a phone pressed to my head. That would also make me one of those fools who saw nothing but exclamation points when Senate Bill 140 passed.

By the time you read this, the law prohibiting hand-held cellphone talking will be one day old. And, my office outside the office will be closed for business.

A little background.

I'm a reporter. My job has me "out in the field," as we reporters like to call it, on a regular basis. That means my car racks up the mileage and my phone racks up the minutes.

A little more background.

I'm planning a do-it-yourself wedding. Guess what that means? We have to "do it ourselves" and, if it involves any of the dozen vendors we're using, we have to do it between the hours of 9 a.m. and 5 p.m. My handy HTC touch screen phone, and guaranteed traffic delays on Interstate 15, make that possible.

Yet more background still.

My closest friend is a stay-at-home mom. We gab during my commute to work or my drive to lunch Monday through Friday. Why? Her house is nothing but nursery rhymes during the day and something closer to Barnum & Bailey at night. If my phone call is going to interrupt one or the other, we both prefer the nursery rhymes. As soon as I park, my friend and her daughter get back to itsy bitsy spiders. Hey, you do what you gotta do.

These aren't excuses. These are facts.

And they just happen to explain the reason I found myself parallel parking downtown a few months ago with one hand on the wheel and the other hand clenching an overpriced T-Mobile device. So what if that stunt ended in a Google search for "touch-up paint"?

There was also the time I unwrapped a popsicle before leaving my house, started the car and dialed a friend only to realize I was a couple bowling pins short of a legitimate juggle.

As my mother reads this, she has to be covering her mouth, Hillary Clinton-style. And, I don't blame her.

These aren't boasts. These are confessions.

It's the price you pay when the sound of jangling car keys acts as your personal Pavlov bell to dial a number. Any number. My dialing and driving habit is so bad that sometimes I call family members, say "Whatcha doin'?" and then leave them with the sound that is my inhale and exhale as the ol' Honda coasts down Interstate 215 and I think of something else to say. I could get rid of that pesky habit, if only my car had a fax machine.

Instead I have a law to get rid of it for me. Sure, it's just warnings until January, when fines of $50 kick in for first-time offenders (and go up to $100 and $250 for second- and third-time offenders, respectively), but no one likes to see flashing lights in their rearview mirror -- even if it's just to slap a cellphone-holding hand.

I get the new law. Here's just one reason why: According to a University of Utah study, cellphone distraction extends drivers' reaction times the same way a blood alcohol level of 0.08 percent would. That probably explains why drivers using cellphones are four times more likely to get into injury-causing crashes.

Let me rephrase. I not only get the new law, I'm thankful for it. I belong to that group of people who sometimes know better but don't necessarily do better, unless someone's watching. It's the same reason those weekends with out-of-town parents make my hypothetical autobiography one hell of a read. But, as an adult, it's the reason I use my car as an office and opt for 10 and "phew!" over 10 and 2.

Apparently, I'm not alone. Results from a survey in 2009 by The Harris Poll showed that only 2 percent of people who used cellphones while driving didn't think it was dangerous. The rest of them knew better, they just didn't do better. Hopefully that changed here in Nevada as of Saturday. I know it did for me.

The last call I had with my mom had the radio and AC humming in the background. "Are you driving right now?!" the woman who raised me better demanded to know. "Yes," I replied. "With both hands on the wheel."

I'm no longer a fool, driving around with my cellphone pressed to my head. Now I'm just a fool driving around with a Bluetooth connected to my ear. The lesser of two fools, indeed.

Contact columnist Xazmin Garza at xgarza@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0477. Follow her on Twitter at @startswithanx.