Actually I didn't put it terribly well. It's not driving in itself I dislike - as someone who rather likes going too fast, there is an imaginary realm in which the pleasure of driving still makes sense to me - it is the participation in a largely antisocial activity, the experience of individualism in action, that I don't enjoy. Much as one might be unable to enjoy the pleasure of a private beach in the knowledge that the locals are fenced out. The car as an instrument of liberation is a fantasy.
As for turkeys and Christmas, I give you these words, more eloquent than mine: (Edited out of reply to make room)
First, thanks for admitting you didn't put it as well as you'd wanted to.
As to the wise words by another's pen: This is all very well, but it rather pre-supposes that the subject does not also enjoy walking and cycling.
I'm a 4,000-mile a year cyclist and I spend most of my life in the country. I drive rather more than that, but I do ride and I do walk.
I know and love the whiff of the first coal fires as Autumn becomes Winter.
I love the scent of the roadside woodland after a heavy rain.
Ditto the sight of a buzzard watching me ride past from his telegraph pole and the view ahead of a road snaking up a climb as my finger twitches over the ergo shifter to launch me in the small ring. On regular rides I know where I'm going to see a particular discarded boot or wheel trim in the hedge.
I even play a game of Moo-ing at cows as i ride past and counting how many heads turn. Even my kids have got into that one. it has become competitive, sadly. We do the same for sheep too.
I am not the passenger of your eloquent author's vivid imagination. Few people are.
And I'm not sure driving is anti-social either. I would see little of my extended family if I didn't drive. I feel that I express indivicualism more on a bicycle than I do in a car. I can (and do) pick up hitchers in my car. I can't on my bicycle.