DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour  al@motorwayamerica.com

On last night’s news there was a film clip about the first anniversary of the death of four teenagers who were going out to get a pizza before each went home to do their homework. On the way they were smashed into by a drunk driver…and all four of the kids were killed. Not the drunken slob who killed them, however. She was so blitzed she wouldn’t have died if she’d run into an M1A1 Abrams tank. She hadn’t been hurt all the other times she drove drunk – with or without a license. This loser has been behind bars for an entire year awaiting her trial, which begins shortly. I tried to imagine myself in the shoes of the grieving parents, families and friends of the four kids – all of whom will never be the same. Thankfully I couldn’t.

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour   al@motorwayamerica.com

How many times have you been driving down the highway (does anybody drive up the highway?) at dusk — especially during inclement weather — and at the last minute you see a car coming toward you in the opposite lane at the last minute…because the head case doesn’t have his lights on? Or if there are lights on they’re dulled parking lights (wait a minute…the PC term for parking lights is now “fender lights.”).

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATIBE
By Al Vinikour   al@motorwayamerica.com

As near as I can tell pot holes serve one purpose; to remind us taxpayers how royally screwed we’ve been getting since highway maintenance became a “ward of the state.” Over the past several decades billions, if not trillions of dollars have been spent to allegedly improve the nation’s roads. Instead, all it has given us is a feel for what it must have felt like flying throughflack in a B-17.

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour  al@motorwayamerica.com

Yesterday I was rushing home from a meeting because my wife told me she made deviled eggs. Normally I would wonder what she did to make her feel guilty enough to prepare my favorite treat but at this point I didn’t care. However, I was blinded by the sunlight reflecting off the Dodge in front of me and for a few seconds, lost sight of the road. I could have easily crashed and burned…meaning I never would have had my deviled eggs.

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour  al@motorwayamerica.com

By now, regular readers of my diatribes know the two things I hate the most in this world…that creepy Burger King guy in their commercials…and people who don’t use turn signals. I have now added a third…people who don’t realize their turn signals are on.

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour   al@motorwayamerica.com

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.

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour   al@motorwayamerica.com

There are many things I’ve done these past 65 years 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 afternoon from the La Porte County Lockup.

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour   al@motorwayamerica.com

I really like my internist a lot. I’ve been a patient of his ever since I moved to Michigan over 20 years ago. He knows what buttons to push and gets a big kick out of holding political discussions with me to the point where my blood is beginning to boil…and then says, “Well, it’s time to take your blood pressure.”

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour   al@motorwayamerica.com

I don’t know exactly how many individual parts there are in a vehicle but for the sake of argument let’s say 10,382. At that rate I'll have enough ammunition to write columns until Methuselah and I reach parity.

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour   al@motorwayamerica.com

It never ceases to amaze me how many people will leave their cars parked outside overnight, walk out the front door, start up the engine…and go. Not that there’s anything wrong with that…UNLESS IT’S WINTER AND THE CAR IS COVERED WITH ICE AND SNOW!!!