Diatribe

Hey pet hater, your dog is not an airbag

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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.

Potholes deserve to die — you don't

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DRIVER'S SIDE DIATIBE
By Al Vinikour  

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.

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

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DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour  

There are many things I’ve done these past many 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 aft
ernoon from the La Porte County Lockup.

Sharing the highway with raccoons

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DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour  

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.”).

Climbing Mount Bigfoot

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DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour   


A popular attraction for young and old alike are those monster truck shows that hard-of-hearing announcers promote in those incessant radio spots. I don’t know exactly what size tires those behemoths have — I’m guessing 450-inches…but then again I can’t tell the length of a foot if I had a ruler in my hand — but I’ve probably lived in smaller towns.

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

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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.

What's that blinking on my instrument panel?

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DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour 

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.

Thighs matter

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DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour   

There are some really beautiful vehicle interiors. Some have sleek center consoles while others have high-tech instrument panels and center stacks. Some others have creature comforts like lighted cupholders and ergonomically-friendly temperature controls. But some vehicle manufacturers have decided that thighs don’t matter if it interferes in any way with design.

There's no such thing as 90-degree parking

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DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour 

One sure-fire giveaway that someone has a brand new car is to see a shiny vehicle parking perpendicular across two or there parking spaces. The presumable reason is to stop someone from parking too closely and putting a dent somewhere on this “prized asset.” Technically it makes sense. Somebody is proud of a vehicle that he or she has worked hard for and spent many thousands of dollars on. However, one thing these selfish fecal craniums fail to consider is that everybody in that parking lot has spent thousands of dollars or more on their own rides.

Train, train go away

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DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour  

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.”