I’m taking July off. Paternity leave for the brain or something.
Mon, 30 Jun 2008
As we were leaving the Kroger parking lot today, I was two cars back from the lead to turn out, and the front one was turning left. The person between me and the front thought this would be a good time to dig through her purse or something. Fortunately, several moments after our front man had left, she did finally pull forward, and since there was a slow moving vehicle some blocks away heading in our direction, she decided to wait (and resumed digging in the purse). After the vehicle passed, she continued digging in her purse. Nobody else was coming. I kept waiting for that imminent moment when she would look up and begin her travels. I waited to no avail, and finally scared the poor soul witless by tooting the horn… sorry.
Tue, 17 Jun 2008
No, this has nothing to do with a wannabe Baron, nor with the Detroit Lions. It’s referring the title of this post, and it’s more of a Patriots than a Lions thing, too, ’cause there was no shortage ~ I just couldn’t decide what to use:
“Little Squirt”
“I Hope You Kept Some For Yourself”
“Come Again? (No, Don’t)”
“Big Squirt”
“No, Thank You”
“Keep It Clean, Now”
“Why Don’t You Do Everyone Else’s While You’re At It…”
But, I couldn’t decide.
In other news, I did learn that the 5-series comes equipped with rocket-powered super-soaker windshield washer jets—you see, I was following one on the interstate…
Sat, 14 Jun 2008
I still remember my dad and I jokingly saying that to each other after seeing the signs in the middle of the interstate. I was about seven at the time, and thought it was the funniest thing ever.
A very unusual sighting occurred while leaving MicroCenter today. As I drove around the building and headed for the road, a large North American truck began to swing wide as if to turn left into the parking lot. Then it kept swinging, which puzzled me. Then after just barely entering the parking lot, it went back onto the street, completing a u-turn.
(If you didn’t click on the link above before, do it now. Yes, it was one of those trucks. A complete u-turn.)
Sat, 14 Jun 2008
Yesterday, I had to go with my sister and kids up north a little ways to our chiropractor (the others were with me due to a later destination that was then canceled due to rain). Anyway, our chiropractor is about 15 miles from our house—usually a 25-minute drive during bad rush hour.
It took us 65 minutes to get home. Even after the rain cleared. Amazing.
But it was okay. We had a fun drive just relaxing in the car at 5 mph… it took 45 minutes to go the first six miles; 20 minutes to go the rest of the way after I got off the interstate at the next exit.
As we were going along, probably after about four miles, a few people decided it would be better to drive on the margin—maybe create a new lane and such. After a couple of these went by, I and a few of those around me pulled partway over to block any such further intrusion. Most of the offenders heeded this signal and merged back into the normal traffic paths. But as is often the case, one holdout, a white Sentra, lingered on.
Then we came to a parked car in the margin and had to get back in our lanes. Nobody would let Sentra back in, though, but that didn’t seem to phase her a bit: she just pulled around on the grass, and resumed her marginal journey. Naturally, I eased back onto the margin to block this “extra lane.”
She went around me on the grass.
Not only that, but it was just the sweetest- (if not the brightest-) looking older lady. Probably early 60’s. And not in a hurry at all, either; she was just moseying along on the margin and grass as if it was normal.
My sister said she even visibly jumped when I honked my horn as she went by. Amazing.
Fri, 13 Jun 2008
Everyone knows you’re not supposed to use double negatives. Never. Not at all. At least, not by yourself.
There may be a place for a joint use of them, however: when Ciera pulls out in front of you (negative honk). Complying with the audible signal of his stupidity, he stops, causing sudden disruption of my forward momentum (negative honk). He then proceeds to deposit himself in the center turn lane—admittedly a great location for him, and if he had thought of that originally, he would’ve saved us all the trouble.
Honk honk. We should definitely give him a double negative.
Thu, 12 Jun 2008
As we left our company meeting downtown this morning, I merged onto the interstate with an ease I am unaccustomed to in the Odyssey. Something felt a little funny, but I couldn’t tell what, and I had to watch the other vehicles… (and keep up with the in-car conversation, too, of course!) But it definitely was peppier than usual. Once I was safely on the interstate, I glanced at my speedometer to find my speed and happened to glance at my tach.
Needle straight up.
5500 rpm. 55 mph.
The highest this engine has ever revved. Not good.
I let off the gas for it to shift, and it didn’t. I began running a mental checklist to try and pinpoint the problem. It was kind of amazing that for all its revving the engine didn’t sound very loud ~ a good thing, I suppose. But what could be wrong?
Then on my instrument panel, I noticed the little numeral two highlighted.
You know, between the ‘D’ and the ‘1′…
Wed, 11 Jun 2008
My homeward commute today took me via the back roads, as a mid-afternoon disabled truck managed to disable the interstate, too. As I was driving up a road near my house, I came upon a ‘Y’ intersection (I was coming up from the bottom) where the right-leaning path I was taking always has a green arrow. The left-leaning path was, as it often is, stopped by a red light.
As I neared this fork in the road, a cream ES circled around in a parking lot to my right, and without any hesitation (or consideration, apparently) pulled onto the street. At first I thought she was turning left, which would’ve sent her the opposite direction, but no, she wants to go on the left-leaning path. Unfortunately, she’s pulling out of the parking lot dead-even with the back end of the car stopped at the light. So she just stops, blocking the road.
Naturally, I have no wish to t-bone her for dinner, so I grudgingly bring the Odyssey to a halt near her driver-side doors. I also signal with my horn, to let her know she’s not driving with the greatest of consideration for her fellow man. I soon discovered why.
She turned and gaped at me with a young-man-how-could-you-do-such-an-ungallant- thing-as-to-honk-at-a-lady look, and pointed her nose a little farther in the air (if possible).
So I honked again as I drove around her.
Wed, 11 Jun 2008
Don’t you hate being at a social function and really feeling out of your element? Maybe you don’t really know folks, or you don’t really have a lot in common with them, or it’s just not your type of party. What’s worse, though, is when someone else like that is at an event, and doesn’t even know it. They strut about in the wrong attire, or they jabber on about something in their life that nobody cares about, or they pick up the fine hors d’oeuvres with their fingers (okay, so I’ve done that—shut up).
Anyway, I think those are the same type of people I saw this morning in the left lane on the interstate (two separate specimens): driving along all happy and stuff, and then they slow down and put their signal on, hoping for a space to merge. This is rush hour, people—nobody’s going to just let you in! And then to top it off, after hoping for awhile, they off’d the signal and sped on for awhile… then did it again!
You’re right, Uncle Steve. My expectations are too high sometimes.
Tue, 10 Jun 2008
One of the things that irritates me more than anything else in traffic is Lunacy #7:
Two vehicles side-by-side on the interstate maintaining the same speed.
As such, I try hard to avoid ever being a lunacar, and am careful to either accelerate or decelerate as appropriate to break up the blockade.
Problem: today, we were driving down the middle lane of the interstate, and a white Cooper came along side me to the left. Once he pulled even with me, the old codger (talking on his cell phone) moderated his speed to match mine. After a few moments, I eased the throttle a bit to help traffic. Apparently, he finished his phone conversation at the same time, and either dropped it in a hard-to-get place, or noticed a blemish on his upholstery that needed immediate attention, and as his gaze went steadily downward, his speed adjusted accordingly.
Feeling satisfied, I put the Odyssey back in cruise control and settled back in. But not for long: soon our good friend came zipping back, and once again paused as he pulled even with me. Fortunately, he then decided to investigate whether he possessed afterburners, and I had no further blockade problems with him.
. . .
P.S.: During my brief interaction with Cooper, I kept puzzling over who he looked like. As he pulled away, I saw he advertised his last name on his license plate, and solved the puzzle. He looked like himself: I used to be on a county political board with him.
