Diatribe

Musings from a traffic jam

Tags:

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour   

I spend lots of time sitting in traffic and do way-too-much thinking. Following is a list of some things that run through my brain and cause me angst. (By the way, exactly what is “angst”?)

America's most dangerous combat zone

Tags:

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour   

I received a letter the other day from a reader who feels the most life-threatening place to be is the parking lot of a shopping mall where there’s lots of cars, lots of pedestrians and few brains behind the wheel.

My car is so safe I couldn’t possibly die — right?

Tags:

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour  

I remember when I was a kid my family owned junkyards in Indiana. Before toll roads and interstate highways the major thoroughfare through northern Indiana was U.S. 30, the famed “Lincoln Highway.” It was a four-lane road that spanned the country. Consequently, it too-often was a “highway of death.”

Musings on a long drive

Tags:

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour     

Several times a year I drive from Detroit to Chicago for a variety of reasons — one in Spring and one in Fall — and my kids live there. The Fall trip is a great drive because it’s always in early-October, just as the leaves are beginning to change and I don’t have to face the prospects of lake-effect snow in either direction.

The shortest distance between two points — across three lanes of traffic

Tags:

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour 

It’s been proven to me that I don’t hold a monopoly on hate — especially when it comes to annoying driving habits of others. One of my readers sent me an e-mail saying what ticks him off are the “idiot drivers” who cut across three lanes of traffic to turn left. I’ve written previous rants on similar subjects but for the good of my reading public (whom I depend on as an audience for my vitriol) I’m going to use this column to address this exact crime against humanity.

Look out...Here comes tomorrow

Tags:

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour   


Lots of things irk me. If they didn’t I wouldn’t have this column and you wouldn’t be wasting precious minutes reading it. However, there are various degrees of irk and as regular readers know, failure to use turn signals rests at the top…and will probably never be usurped.

Your headlights are still on, or are you just excited to see me

Tags:

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour  


How many hundreds of thousands of times in automotive history have batteries gone dead because the driver forgot to turn off the headlights when leaving the car? There could be any number of reasons for this. Maybe he or she departed the vehicle in a brightly-lit shopping mall parking lot or garage and wouldn’t have noticed whether the lights were on or off.

Hey pet hater, your dog is not an airbag

Tags:

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour  

How many times have you been driving down the street and saw a vehicle coming toward you that looked like it was being driven by a dog? No, you’re not high on Red Bull, my friend. You’re looking at an overt abuser of his pet and a danger to every other vehicle on the highway.

Thanks for that nagging feeling

Tags:

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour   

For the most part I think rear spoilers are pretty cool. They look sporty and actually can help a vehicle’s handling. But there’s one major flaw that some of them have, whether factory-installed or aftermarket…I DON’T WANT TO THINK THEY’RE CREEPING UP ON ME IN MY REARVIEW MIRROR!!! When I’m glancing rearward, I want to see if there are any other vehicles close enough to make me to cry out, “Danger, Will Robinson.”

It's 3 a.m., do you know where your life is?

Tags:

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour  

There are many things I’ve done these past decades that I’ve wished I hadn’t wasted part of my life doing. It could be as mundane as taking a nap on a beautiful day when I wasn’t really tired, dated the ice princess from high school or watched a Detroit Lions game on television. I’ll never get that time back and I try not to think of all the things I could have done instead. But few things gripe my behind more than sitting at a stoplight in the middle of Pinhook, Indiana, at 3 a.m. when the only living things around are me and the unseen inmates that escaped that aft
ernoon from the La Porte County Lockup.