Warning: the following post reflects two phenomena – I just put 1,333 miles on my mom-van and I am the recipient of a double dose of the crazy gene. So, read at your own risk – the following will be filled with judging folks based on my quirky little rules for livin’.
You may be wondering just how many times I went to the grocery store to rack up that kind of mileage. Never fear, it is spring break for my kiddos and we took them on a whirlwind tour of San Francisco and the Avenue of the Giants. The plan was for a rollicking good time. The reality was lots of bickering and time buckled into car seats. Oh, and the one vomiting session in said car seat, but whatever.
You also may be wondering just how crazy I am. Lots. But don’t worry, I keep the bouts of solo-conversations to a minimum. Unless I’m driving great distances at which time I like to have one-sided conversations regarding the driving habits of the folks around me. Husband thinks it’s hysterical. Which I typically am after a few miles of driving, so it all works out.
(I’m not really crazy, I’m just a bit eccentric. That and I must be an old soul that previously suffered mightily. For instance, I am terrified of bears. I’m pretty sure I was mauled by a grizzly in a previous life. Hence the frequent nightmares starring bears who can open doors of homes looking for people-treats. My last one included me running about the tops of bookshelves in a hidden-tiger-crouching-dragon fashion. I also worry about things. As in all things. And that is not an example of hyperbole, but more on that later.)
So driving. Most of us do it, and some of us pride ourselves on our apparent skill for such task. And most are not nearly as talented at it as he/she thinks. (Whoa, am I still talking about driving or has this become a euphemism?)
I’m a product of public education and in my day, that public education included Driver’s Education. Which I took and got an “A” – both in the classroom and behind the wheel. (Just saying, not really bragging or anything.) I also have been driving for 36 years. Yes, I look good for my age (grey hair aside) but I grew up on a farm, so those first years of driving were in farm trucks which plodded along in “granny gear” and my only responsibility was to turn the wheel if we got to the fence line before my dad was done unloading the hay bales. But whatever, it’s driving experience, right? So, I offer up my latest TEN observations of other driver’s issues, collected over the past TWO days:
- When making a left-hand turn from a multi-laned surface street, please feel free to use the turning lane. That’s what it’s there for after all, ya big dork who lives in my neighborhood who persists in holding up all traffic by turning from the DRIVING lane. OMG, one of these days I’m going to follow you home and explain these things to you.
- There are specific skills a driver is required to demonstrate a certain level of proficiency – merging on and off the freeway comes to mind. There is no stop sign at the junction of the ramp and the freeway; hence you should not be stopped there causing me to spill my precious morning coffee when I need to vigorously apply my brakes to keep from running into your hiney with no brake lights/emergency flashers/other visible sign that you are not actually driving.
- If you cannot text, tweet, dial, and eat whilst driving, perhaps you might pull over and try those things from there rather than the roadway.
- Speaking of eating, it is best to not order the $6 burger from Carl’s Jr. while driving about town – unless you want to give the other drivers something to laugh at – Mister in the white van with lettuce and guacamole all over your face.
- Oh, and you, the lady tweezing her brows in the lane next me. You might want to get that big a@s hair on your chin while you’re at it. Seeing as you’re swerving all over the place anyway.
- On highways (those roadways with higher speed zones and multiple lanes, those things) please drive in the farthest right-hand lane unless you are passing people. Not “someday will pass” but actually able to pass others soon. And I’m pretty sure going 45 in a 65 means that you shouldn’t be camped out in the left lane for 6 miles, not passing anybody but roadkill.
- If you are one of those folks terminally irked by being behind other drivers, you really are a sad, sorry little human. Going like a bat out of hell just to slow down front of me. Really, very amusing. Especially when I pass you a few miles down the road and we get to do it all over again.
- If you are going to honk like crazy and gesticulate in wild ways with your middle digit, you might want to notice the pedestrians and car in front of me. Sorry I didn’t run them over just to hurry along for you.
- When noticing flashing red & blues on the side of the road, you might consider slowing down the same amount you do when spying one with the radar gun out nabbing the drivers attempting to actually fly in their automobiles. You might also get over a lane, not ’cause it’s the law in certain states but because it is scary as all get out to have cars fly past you at 75 mph.
- Those little white stripes of paint and/or glow-in-the-dark bumpy things? They create these things called lanes. You should drive between them, not straddle them. Maybe that’s why you have no un-dinged parts to your car. Glad to share this information with ya!
So yeah, that was like you were in the car with me for a mile or so. Dear lord, is driving that hard? Actually, it is pretty damn scary that we willingly put ourselves in situations like this. My FIL noted the other day just how insane it is to put yourself in a small metal moving object, make it go really fast, and the whole time assume that all the other drivers around you are not distracted by life’s little distractions (kids in backseat puking, cell phone ringing, coffee spilling, french fries falling on floor, empty soda can rolling under one’s feet, etc.) whilst driving their own moving metals objects at high rates of speed.
Talk about scary. Makes my ridiculous fear of bears seem down-right tame in comparison.