RSSFriday B.S.: I Can Drive
Sep 12
On the way to work yesterday, there was a guy sitting on the front steps of a corner house (the one next to the gas station on Prospect). He was wearing jeans and a flannel long sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a worn out ball cap. He looked like he had been waiting a long time on those steps.
The picture was straight out of Wrangler ad. During the same drive, I almost knocked the HVAC guy on his ass while he was crossing the street to his truck. He was wearing blue slacks, tennis shoes and a plain white tee. I smiled at him as I drove by and he snarled at me because I almost made him a gravel pancake.
Driving is such an adventure. I’m a careful driver but I like to look at things. I get distracted by the PBS building with the television wall mounted facing the highway. I love to watch the leaves change colors and will often head down the Turnpike in late October for the express purpose of seeing the hues of autumn speed by. I love to peek into cars and play a sort of highway version of Hot or Not.
I love watching people negotiate a crosswalk, especially in New England where crossing the street is a right not a privilege. There’s basically two types in these parts. The person who will charge into the street, traffic lights, on coming traffic and risk to oneself be damned. And the person who will look both ways first and then charge into the street. You can always tell the natives from the visitors. Visitors press the button, look both ways, tentatively step out into the street when it looks clear and make their way gingerly across the road as if they’re walking on broken glass. The best part is when someone has been here a week or so and then thinks they get it. They know how to cross the street like a local and they manage to barrel into traffic and put their hand up in the universal gesture that they think means “stop” but in New England means “make it a close call, please.”
I catch all of this when I’m behind the wheel of the car. Sure, sometimes I’m the lucky passenger and then I don’t have to worry about actually hitting someone, or driving off the road or hitting a rut and blowing out my tire. But more often, I’m the one behind the wheel, steering and peering out at the world at large as it careens by, in front of and behind me. It’s a great view, if a little dangerous to take your eyes off the road every time you pass by the salon with the sign that says “Walk-in haircuts Saturday 10-2pm only $12″ which I read one word at a time while driving by and it took me three days to put the message together.
As a general rule, I allow myself one close call a day and then I have to pay attention to the road. I had the same rule as a pedestrian. When I didn’t own a car, the rule was, I was allowed to almost be run over by a car once per day. After that, I had to be extra special careful the rest of the day, press the crosswalk button, wait for the light, look both ways, etc.
There have been some close calls, both as a driver and a pedestrian. For all the drivers on the road and all the crazy road distractions, which doesn’t even include how many beers a driver had with dinner, their kids in the backseat, lighting a cigarette, changing the cd, just plain bad drivers and road rage, it’s a wonder that things have gone as smoothly as they have. Not just for me, but for you, too. Oh yeah, I’ve had friends who were hit by a car, hit and run by another driver, lost control in the snow, pulled over and ticketed. But for all that, I think the roads could be, say should be, a lot worse than they are.
Scary as that idea is, it doesn’t change that I like to drive. And along the way, if I turn and stare at you for a few more seconds than really seems prudent, just take it as a compliment that I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
