DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour  

Every morning when I wake up (or every afternoon, depending on how much insomnia I had the night before) I vow that today will be the day I learn patience…especially when driving. Do you know how long that pledge takes to break, Conan? About 1/3 the time it takes to overcome a New Year’s resolution (or my first mile or driving, whichever comes first).

There are many things that will set off my hair trigger of hatred — things like the driver in front of me not using turn signals; the drivers in front of me making constant turns; the drivers in front of me just being there…it doesn’t take much. But until I really get warmed up I can tolerate some of these things for upwards of 15-20 minutes.  However…what will really do a number on my psyche are drivers who pick stoplights to die at.

You know what I’m talking about…don’t deny it. You’re the #2 car at a just-activated stoplight so you’ve basically consoled yourself to symbolically using your thumb as a rectal thermometer while you’re watching cross-traffic do their thing. Then your light changes to green and you’re anticipating the vehicle in front of you will rise to the occasion. Wrong!!! The driver of that car either a.) didn’t notice the light had changed; b.) on the phone and doesn’t give two hoots in hell about a changed light; c.) old and afraid there might be a car that will T-bone them; or d.) dead.

I try…God knows I try…to find some excuse not to wish the person some terminal disease...but I don’t really get my own way very often. First I think that maybe they’re just being cautious…even though they’ve been sitting at the damned light for at least two minutes without seeing another car!!! Once my patience goes…the rest follows…which is ironic because there really isn’t any to begin with.

At that time I let my horn do the talking…and it has a loud mouth. Actually, the first thing I do is try to catch sight of the driver and make sure it’s someone I could beat up in a physical altercation. Somebody who is infirmed and/or old and/or a Grandma type. The way I look at things, if you drive like the old lady in front of me…find a Bob Evans and stay there drinking hot tea until the traffic passes. I don’t know how long my lifespan is but I don’t want to spend some of it looking at the taillights of your one-owner 1955 De Soto!

“But,” you ask, “what about the person who pays no attention to the musical interlude emanating from the horns behind them?” Simple explanation and it would spur the economy as well. Some of the unspent stimulus money should be spent to hire a squad of “Get your ass moving when the light turns green” police. If they witness someone who appears as if their life may have expired at the corner of 12th Street and Vine, the squad should run to the intersection and push the vehicle over to the side…or roll it down a cliff, depending on the terrain. Time is money…and someone who has nothing to do and all day to do it in is cheating others out of theirs.

Just like walking through a minefield, driving demands undivided attention and daydreaming at an intersection should be a capital offense. If my plans are enacted I fully expect Jerry Bruckheimer to develop a television series based on the squad I mentioned earlier…something on the order of: CSI Intersection or First & Main Blue. By the time David Caruso has worn himself out from posing the errant driver will already be sentenced to 3-5 years at Riker’s for the new federal offense, “Theft of Life.”

There’s an even simpler and less-severe solution to this problem. When you’re waiting at a stoplight…pay attention! The degree of difficulty is minimal and the chances of your making it to the next intersection have increased exponentially. To paraphrase one of the more memorable lines from the hit movie Jerry Maguire, “Help me to keep from killing you.”