There’s Something Pitiful About This

It’s finally a beautiful, calm sunny morning. I only had to drive 1,250 miles to find it. Small victories. Driving this route has evolved into a battle of attrition – when will my excitement for the drive and the prospect of wonderful weather be overcome by dealing with crazy, stupid drivers. Yes, I’m on that again.

I’ve said this before, but I’ll make a sincere attempt at not going off the deep end this time. No guarantees, but an effort will be applied. Let’s see how that goes.

Okay, the first thing I notice about drivers is the general increase in the level of distraction. I’m probably not telling you anything you haven’t suspected yourself. Swerving around while accessing your latest text or finding directions on those ubiquitous, yet sorely inadequate traffic algorithms offered by the likes of Google, Apple, and Wayz. There are times I get so frustrated with one I switch to another, only to be shortly disappointed again.

Then there are these wonderfully distracting dashboard touchscreens with their confusing, multi-level GUIs. Who thought these were a good idea? Whatever happened to a good, old-fashioned button to push?

So what about all this weaving and unintended lane changing? It’s so much fun to watch until you’re the victim. Streams of blue smoke quickly follow. I think I need another blood pressure pill.

The next thing I notice: like dogs, certain kinds of drivers are attracted to certain kinds of cars. I guess it makes sense, but I’m fascinated by it. Not amused, fascinated. Cars aren’t dogs; they aren’t relatively harmless.

In keeping with the dog theme, first there are the little old ladies attempting to drive a twenty-five year old land yacht while clutching their hyper little Pekinese or Chiwawa. Charming. I need to put you in my rear-view mirror.

Then comes the pedal mashing, lane changing, tailgating, I’m more important than you BMW owner. They completely lack any semblance of patience or civility. Consideration and manners have gone out the window for these speed maniacs, as if the world will end if they don’t beat the Google Maps ETA time by at least half an hour. Audi owners are not far behind. Recklessness must be a rite of passage for owning a German car. No thanks.

On the other end of the spectrum, but just as ill-bred are the Prius and the Subaru. Slow, undaunted by traffic passing on both sides, they serenely trundle along their way. I can’t tell if it’s absent-mindedness or self-righteousness that allows them to persist holding up traffic in the fast lane. What on God’s green earth makes them think they belong there to begin with? If anyone should have a student driver sticker on their bumper it’s these two. They can add it to the zillion other stickers telling us all the places they’ve managed to survive while driving. Or maybe add this one: “Beware! I maintain blissfully slow, unaware behavior! Go around if you can.”

Blazing up behind these two are the muscle trucks, those big, four-wheel drive dualies with knobby oversize tires, riser kits, a belching turbocharged diesel, and a penchant for driving as if the freeway’s the place to fantasize about racing in the Baja1000. These guys love to follow so closely all you can see in your mirror is their grill and bumper-mounted winch. I think their dream come true would be legalized trampling of Priuses. I might like to watch that.

Cadillac SUVs are another of my favs. You know, the big black ones with lots of chrome and ridiculous oversized taillights. They tend to drive fast. Drop it in the fast lane, punch the cruise control to 95, sit back and let ‘er rip. Let’s roll! We’re on a mission!

Tesla’s also make the list. The upscale Prius, symbol of the climatically righteous and piously aware, unlike those of us with lesser scruples who continue to pollute the air. It’s funny how their indignation expresses itself in fast driving of their sporty electric vehicles and with lots of bragging about out-accelerating some ICE sports car. I don’t care. Your car is still boring compared to the involvement of manually shifting an internal combustion engine with a sonorous exhaust. But the most amusing evidence of their collective self-righteousness are the anti-Elon bumper stickers. How could he have the audacity to side with Trump and attempt some rational exercise like downsizing the federal government and eliminating waste? It’s inconceivable!

There’s got to be some joy in the art of driving. Some sense of control of a mighty machine and being considerate to those around you. Just because everyone becomes anonymous by stepping into a car doesn’t suddenly make them all indistinguishable robots to be toyed with by bobbing and weaving through the video game of life. Sorry to say (actually, no I’m not), life is not a video game. Neither is driving.

Will I eventually develop a sense of humor about all these inconsiderate drivers, who are becoming more numerous each day? Good question. I’d say there’s a chance, but it’s probably a small one. There’s an equal chance I may get even more grumpy about it. After all, I am getting older. Reminds me of Walter Matteau and Jack Lemon haggling over Ann-Margaret. You know, the movie, Grumpy Old Men? Oh yeah, you may be too young to remember any of those people. Sigh. Here I go again.

I think I’ll go sit by the pool and consider what I’ve done. A drink will probably help.