DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour 

My life has generally been filled with wonder…like “I wonder where my Great Grandfather hid the matzah?” or “Where are those hidden Easter eggs?” (Alright…so I hedged my bets.) Or the most important question, “What if we get caught.” But the most consistently unanswered question is, “Where is the hood latch?”

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour    

My family tree does not contain many, if any members who had long — or even normal-length legs. Truth be told, if we were dogs we’d be Welsh Corgis (and my family left the Ukraine in the 19th century for the gold-lined streets of Indiana.) There’s absolutely no reason to short-sheet the front seat of a vehicle by installing bottom cushions whose end catches me at mid-thigh. If it catches me at mid-thigh then it would be a tushy rub for someone with normal-length femurs.

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.

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour      

The other day I was driving down the freeway (does anybody ever drive up the freeway?), singing to myself, “Do do, do do do do…life been good to me.” All of a sudden the BMW in front of me and one lane over starts jinking like a dogfight between an F-4 Phantom and a MiG 21.  Eventually he (or maybe she) must have realized that his (or her) Bimmer was weaving in and out of his (or her) lane because there was a sudden, jerky correction and the BMW stayed where it was.  I made a mental bet with myself that this dumbbell was probably on his (or her) cell phone and didn’t give two hoots to what was going on around him (or her). I also made a mental note to give him (or her) a hand gesture, just in case he (or she) was deaf.

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour    

There’s plenty of room on my broad behind for things that gripe it, but taking center stage are children riding in vehicles – particularly infants – and the interior looks like they’re smokinghams at Oscar Mayer. This diatribe is not a rant on smoking…have at it. But if there are minors in that car…DON’T SMOKE ‘EM IF YOU GOT 'EM!!!

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour      

I’ve always been fascinated by windshield wipers. I can’t imagine being without them. I would firmly bet the life of any of you that more people use windshield wipers than they do turn signals.

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour     

Q.)  The greatest automotive innovation is:   a.)  Air Bags;  b.) Disk Brakes ; c.)   Power Steering; d.) Seat Belts; e.)  All of the above; f.) None of the above. If you answered anything but “F” you’re way-too-obsessed with safety. The greatest device is hands-down, the cupholder.

DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour      

As regular readers of my diatribes have probably determined, I’m filled with more hate than a Super Bowl filled with Detroit Lions season ticket holders. However, there are some things I find more hateful than others…and one of them is a car’s sunroof.  Call it what you want…a sunroof, moonroof or even a Marsroof…I hate them!