Have you noticed lately that when you get into your car you need to first have a private little chat with yourself before putting that engine in gear? More and more lately it seems that one needs to both steel and calm oneself in anticipation of the species on the road I refer to as “The Stupids.”
I often wonder why we bothered to enact laws against driving while holding a phone up to your ear. Forests died putting through the paperwork for those laws. (Where were the greenies when that was happening?) I don’t blame the police for this; I blame legislators who enact laws without the manpower to enforce them. Worse than the phone, is the text. You know when a driver is texting. His head is pointed downward too long as he taps his message on his keyboard; or he holds his phone up to the steering wheel, maneuvering his two-ton weight piece of machinery while placing more importance to the “LOL” he’s texting than to controlling his vehicle.
There seem to be an awful lot of open-bed trucks on the road, or trucks missing their rear gates. Please, Mr. Truck Driver, watch what you put back there and realize that your tools, toys and trifles can fly up and out if you hit a bump. Several years ago, driving down Winchester Boulevard in San Jose, a tire iron bounced off the back of the truck in front of me and not only imbedded itself in my tire, but destroyed the bumper as well. I considered myself fortunate that it hadn’t flown into my windshield.
The number of drivers concerned about wearing out their turn signal fuses is awesome. Aren’t they the ultimate environmentalists? Why else would you not signal a lane change, especially when that change is made with less than a car length to spare. Could it be the cost of the fuse? Maybe we need to start a “Fuse Foundation” so these poor souls will not worry about being poised on the brink of financial ruin should a fuse replacement be necessary.
Some suffer from select hazard discernment; if they don’t see a hazard, to them it doesn’t exist. For those reason-deprived individuals, I have two words: black ice. You don’t see the black ice, but it’s there, and unless you want to shorten your life span dramatically, and take someone else with you, be aware that you might be driving on it.
Let us review one of those forgotten words in the new vocabulary of the year 2012, “hydroplaning,” which is what happens when driving too fast on a wet day. A fun way to fly; not a fun way to land.
Okay, just because you drive a truck, it does not automatically mean that your tires and brakes are magically endowed with the power to grip a snowy or icy road. In the DC area (and this happens just about every other place where snow kisses the road), I saw more trucks swerve 90 degrees, slide into the side walk, the median strip, down gullies. I know you’re riding high up in that truck and it makes you feel that you truly are above us all, but your truck is not Santa’s sleigh.
Where is the person’s brain who drives 70mph in pea soup thick fog? Is his brain fogged up too? Oh, I know. That brain is being sat upon. If you kill yourself, that’s one thing, that’s Darwin’s Law doing its job. Just don’t kill anyone else.
Okay, let’s have a kumbayah hands-holding moment and speak the unspeakable. If you are a cyclist, please please please please realize that the rules of the road apply to you too. I will respect you if you respect me. Actually, I’ll respect you anyway because I refuse to be responsible for a two-ton object under my control knocking down a forty pound bike and its rider. At least go through the motions of respecting me.
I currently live in Sunnyvale, California, and the main road in this microcosm of the universe is El Camino Real. The posted speed limit is 35mph; a reasonable rate you would think. However, there seems to be a shared delusion here that 15mph is the fastest that should be driven whether in the right, middle, or left lane, and it doesn’t matter if its rush hour or the middle of the day. If you are a new driver and are unsure of yourself, if you have a fragile load in your car, if you don’t know where you are going, drive in the far right lane. The next time you drive that 15mph take a look in your rear view mirror (cars still come with that accessory, don’t they?) because while there might be no traffic in front of you, it sure as heck is piled up behind you.
Another regularly exciting occurrence along the El Camino Real (although friends and family in other parts of the world have assured me that they too have shared in this experience) relates to the above-mentioned 15mph driver. Only this particular 15mph driver is quite politely driving in the far right lane, so definitely no complaints from my end. Then, like The Most Holy touched their heads in inspiration, they ram the gas pedal and fly across two lanes of traffic. If you are not watching with that extra pair of eyes you got for Christmas last year, you could be doomed.
Driving down a highway in Florida a few months ago, a driver stopped dead right smack dab in the middle of the road, leaving the cars behind him screeching their brakes, including yours truly. He sat there for a second, looked around, pointed off to some mysterious location off to the left, and nodded his head as if to say “Oh, yes, that’s where I want to go.” A profoundly speechless moment.
Don’t you just love it when no one will let you merge onto the expressway? Yes, we all know that the merging lane is to cede right of way, but when traffic is bumper to bumper and no one is really getting anywhere any faster than anyone else, would it kill you to be courteous? Ooops. I just remembered that courtesy is obsolete in 2012. My bad.
We must not forget those who tailgate. Does your vehicle truly need to engage in some sort of exotic dance of coitus with my bumper? Is that extra five miles per hour that vital to your well being? If your objective is to force me to move into another lane so that you can go on your merry way, unless the next lane is clear, why on earth should I put myself at risk while driving 60mph on the expressway. When the lane is clear enough, I’ll move. Until then, cool your jets.
Last week I was merrily driving along. Hardly any traffic at all. I saw a car ahead of me on the right waiting to turn into my lane. In my rear view mirror, I could see there was no one behind me. As any normal thinking person would, I figured she was waiting for me to drive by so that she could proceed onto the road behind me. Nope. She waited until I was almost right there, almost right in front of her, and she pulled out in front of me. What is the name of this maneuver? Does it fall within the “I want you to hit me so I can make a bundle from a huge insurance settlement?” category?
Now for my ultimate traffic pet peeve. To me, it doesn’t get much worse than this: the driver who will not pull to the side of the road to let an emergency vehicle pass. God forbid that you or someone you care about should either need that vehicle or be in that vehicle. Frequently a matter of seconds determines whether a person will live or die, whether they will be healthy or an invalid. Wherever you are going, wherever you need to be . . . it isn’t as important as that emergency vehicle getting to where it needs to be ASAP.
Every now and then I want to lower my window and shout out that line from Network “'I'm as mad as hell and I'm not going to take this anymore.” . . . but, of course, I do continue to take it, because to do otherwise would be insane and I choose to steer my own personal insanity along other pathways. Besides, road rage is the end result of letting "The Stupids" win.
Until next time, LLAP!
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