Is this space taken, yes and then some

What happened to my parking skills? They’ve gone to the birds and the birds have flown south.

I used to be a good parker. I didn’t think about parking because what was there to think about? Parking was like breathing, effortless and automatic.

I didn’t think about it until recently when I pulled up to a line of parking places at Smart & Final. I spotted an empty space and thought, like I always have, “I’ve got this.”

Car on my left — check. Car on my right — check. A nice fat space in between them — double-check. I could do this in my sleep while floating along in dreamland.

I pulled in evenly, eagle-eyeing the distance on both sides of me and when I stepped out of the car to admire my handiwork, it looked as if I had parked the car in my sleep. I’d cut across the parking space like a line bisecting a square in a geometry problem. The nose of the car was on or close to the driver’s side of the car on my right while the tail on the car was grazing the line on the car to my left. I had either occupied or compromised three spaces.

That’s all right. I can do this again and I’ll do it better this time. “Better” was crowding the car on my left because I had pulled in straight but had put my Jeep right on the white line.

I was 8 inches away from the passenger door, which was not a problem unless the passenger wanted to open his or her door. This was possible as long as they were as thin as a piece of typing paper.

If the passenger was average-sized, it might make more sense to climb through the window backward, do a chin-up on top of the car and then jump to freedom.

The other option would be for the passenger to exit through the driver’s side by crawling over the center console, tucking his legs under his chin and doing a cannonball into the driver’s seat or by flinging himself backward out of the open door like the auto version of the Fosbury flop.

After a second go-around, I did what any mature person would do — I chose the blame game. Why are they making cars so wide these days? If it isn’t a widecar problem, it’s clear the city, or some deep parking state, has made the spaces smaller in order to accommodate more cars. I’m used to a space Tom Cruise could land an F/A-18F Super Hornet in.

I could try a third time, but that would be admitting defeat. If I do that, I might as well drive to the DMV, surrender my license and buy some motorized trike like my mother has.

I remember Dad. I’ve become my dad or a version of him. In the triumphant fourth quarter of his life, he would activate his turn signal, change lanes and then leave the signal on for 15 minutes. After reminding him the first few times, I let it go to see how long it would take to realize his signal was still on.

It stayed on for a while. Dad’s signal is probably still on. It’s probably on while he’s driving on the heavenly highway.

No, I gave it my best shot twice. Time to get out of the car, walk inside and do some shopping. Good luck, you’re on your own fellow parkers.

I’ve turned into that guy. The guy you love to hate. The guy who parked askance. The guy who didn’t leave you enough room either to get in your car or get out of your car without dinging his car or yours.

I tried. I’m from the “don’t fence me in” generation. All I see is wide-open spaces with no one else in sight.