March 02, 1999

How's My Driving ??

The great steel Gods have spoken from the misty veiled Valhalla known as Detroit (moving soon to EuroLand - check your local listings). And Yea, we shall give unto them many pounds of steel seductively designed to generate odious amounts of testosterone. And Yea, we shall likewise give unto them the thundering power of many horses with which to satisfy the prehistoric urges generated by these excess hormones. And Yea once more, we shall build endless ribbons of concrete with which to play.

Yea !! So I'm a horsepower freak (i.e. leadfoot), so what ?? I figure if they didn't want me to use all this neat stuff they sure as hell wouldn't give it to me. It's like giving a candy bar to a kid and saying "You earned it, you paid for it, it's yours - but whatever you do, don't take it out of the wrapper, and under no circumstances, enjoy it." Gimme a break, huh? Brings to mind an old Walsh song:

"My Maserati does 185 ... I lost my license, now I don't drive ..."

Look deep and see if you're not a kindred soul. You probably aren't willing to admit it, but it's true just the same. Listen to your mind as you drive down the road, and see if it's not so.

- If you consider the right lane the "wimp" lane, and dare anyone who wanders over to the left to keep up with the big boys, you're a leadfoot.

- If you think the only thing more irritating than a tailgater is that idiot who won't get out of your way (beep! BEEP!), you're a leadfoot.

- If you've got no particular place to go, but need to get there NOW, you're a leadfoot.

- If you kick yourself for not paying attention any time anyone merges in front of you, you're a leadfoot.

- If glare ice and zero visibility don't really slow you down, you're a leadfoot.

That said, there are a few obstacles to total gratification out there. One of course is the local constabulary who I firmly believe are paid on commission and consider every traffic stop another house payment. These guys are currently not a big problem, thanks to technology. After all, a radar detector, jammer, LIDAR diffusers, and stealth bra on the nose of your wheels all together is still cheaper than a citation for reckless driving. A bigger problem is the playground is getting more crowded every day. A hearty tip of the hat to our legislators who haven't laid a new mile of pavement since the Depression, and are currently allocating all their road improvement dollars to studies on Road Rage. Here's a thought, guys. Build a few more lanes, and nobody will have anything to get mad about. This time, build them right - the Germans can have unlimited speed limits because their roads are built well, and built to last. Next time you cut driver's education from a school budget, keep in mind that's another generation of idiots with 3 hours of practical experience merging without a mirror check at 40 mph during rush hour. Go figure when somebody gets pissed.

Someday, somewhere, there will come a time when I admit to myself that it's time to hang up my spurs and take the bus. Hopefully by then, we'll have a licensing department that is willing to take a common sense approach to old age and it's unavoidable consequences, and just say no when I truck my walker up to the DMV and squint miopically across the counter demanding a renewal with extra cheese. I hope by then, if I'm too senile to see the light, someone will have the common courtesy to slap me up side the head and tell me to pull it over permanently. Until then ...


Posted by NIFAIRIOUS at March 2, 1999 06:31 PM