Drive Me Crazy.
I know that I occasionally rant about the inept drivers in our area and I guess today is going to be no exception. If you’ve been to my Road Geek site, then you’ll know that I am an avid driver and pride myself on my motoring abilities. Thinking about it, I guess everything thinks they’re the world’s perfect driver and that the rest of the world is off their crankcase.
Anyways, Earl has told me that I’ve become a much more aggressive driver since the purchase of the Acura, and I tend to agree with him. I can punch the gas pedal now and get the response needed to zigzag my way through traffic. It’s a cool feeling and a bold confirmation of the power I have as an Acura RSX Type-S driver!
I’ve often wondered if there should be an IQ test associated with earning one’s driver’s license. Yes, every driver, to my knowledge, in the United States has to take some sort of written test and demonstrate their driving ability in order to earn their license. In most instances, that is the only demonstration of prowess of required. Once you get your license, you never have to take another test. You simply visit a surly DMV clerk named “Donut Breath” every X number of years, smile for the camera, plunk down an obscene amount of money and voila! you can drive with a license until 20xx whatever.
I think all drivers should be tested every 10 years or so. Reflex abilities change. Eyesight dwindles. Mental capabilities fluxuate. Let’s face it, when I got my license at 16 years old, the only thing on my mind was whether the other tuba player in the band looked hot in his band uniform and whatever other high school drama was gripping my life at that moment.
I also think that a special class of license should be required to drive an SUV. After all, the driver that passed their test in a 1974 Chevy Vega has not demonstrated to the examiner that they are capable of driving an SUV that’s bigger than a school bus. Why should Yolanda Yugo be allowed to assume the role of Henrietta Hummer and drive a vehicle that can hold four of her old Yugos at ten times the price with no questions asked? I say if it qualifies as an SUV, then you should qualify to drive an SUV. Simple as that.
To wrap this all up, I need to get these little nitpicks off my chest:
- I am pretty confident to say that nowhere in the United States or Canada does it require to make a 176 degree turn to the right to leave an interstate or freeway. That would be you driving up the ENTRANCE ramp, not the EXIT ramp.
- NO LEFT TURN means NO LEFT TURN. It doesn’t mean NO LEFT TURN EXCEPT YOU WITH THE LOUD MUSIC AND RATTLING TEETH FILLINGS.
- Last I knew, a red light meant stop. It doesn’t mean, stop if you feel like it or only if its really red instead of “sort of red”.
- “Keep To The Right Except To Pass.” This is becoming a bigger and bigger problem by the minute. Moving your vehicle to the left, setting the cruise control and hanging out in the left lane is wrong and in most cases, illegal. Because of your idiocy, state DOTs are determining that they need to add more lanes to existing roads because you’re creating an unneccessary roadblock, which is throwing off the traffic flow of the roadway. Stay to the right unless you’re actively passing someone.
- And finally, in New York State its illegal to use a handheld cell phone while you’re driving. I don’t agree with the law. I think the law is absurd. I think it’s stupid that the government feels they need to legislate common sense. However, using a cell phone while you’re driving is also stupid. There is nothing, and I mean absolutely NOTHING so earth shattering that you need to be yammering on your telephone while you’re driving. I don’t care if someone farted, got married, had a crisis, made a fool of themselves at the mall or died. When you’re driving, you should be paying attention to the road, listening to the radio and possibly conversing with other passengers. There is no need to be talking on your cell phone.
Thank you for listening. Happy motoring.
Blog Buzz.
Earl and I just returned from a fabulous dinner with my dad and his girlfriend Karen and my sister Jennifer and her boyfriend David. I am a little buzzed from the three beers I had and am lying in bed. Wanna know what I’m wearing? You’ll have to IM me.
Dinner was great in many ways, mostly because it was a chance to get together with family, partly because the food was awesome and the restaurant (The Retreat in Liverpool, N.Y.) was wonderful and also because we ran into someone. Her name is Angela, and she was Jennifer’s nurse back when she was in the hospital last fall with Legionella, a close cousin of Legionnaire’s Disease. Angela was the nurse on duty the night Jennifer made a small turnaround towards recovery. Angela was the nurse who insisted on calling a specialist that was on vacation that week because Jennifer wasn’t responding to medication and the on-staff specialists were a bit stumped. Angela was the nurse that kept us informed. She’s the spittin’ image of Jodi Foster and has a heart of gold. I didn’t think she’d remember us. She did, and she and my sister had a nice conversation and exchanged hugs. It was nice to remember her kindness. I wish there were more people like her in the world.
So now I’m lying in bed and Tom has parallel parked himself along the PowerBook. It’s been a while since I’ve blogged with a buzz in bed, and he doesn’t seem to remember the golden rule.
“Thou shall not nudge thine PowerBook.”
Actually, he’s showing me his new trick, using the left hand speaker grille of my notebook as a scratching post. It sounds like claws on a chalkboard. I do remember the old adage, “Cats can not fly, even with a foot assist.” So I gently remind him, but he doesn’t care. He does what he pleases and that will be that. He’s much like his daddies.
Earl and I picked up the camper today after work. The dealer had us set it up and reviewed all the features and details of our camper as we set it up and took it down. I’m very excited about heading out camping. We’ll probably sleep in the camper this weekend in the driveway. Much like I did when I was a teenager. It’ll be fun.
Don’t Smash The Windows.
I was lucky enough to be able to attend a work training course today, along with the director of the department I work in. I truly enjoyed the experience, as it gave me the opportunity to enhance my skills and be a more integral part of the team. I even raised my hand and asked a question about the software we were being trained on.
“Does this application work on anything other than Internet Explorer?”, hoping that it would hum along nicely in Mozilla Firefox.
“No, it’s only been tested on IE.”
Ugh.
There’s no escaping the monopoly of Microsoft and the buggy Windows OS. As I’ve mentioned on numerous occasions, I am a very happy but recently converted Mac OS X zealot. I love my Mac. I love the flavor of unix that lives under the hood. It’s stylish, yet fully functional, and doesn’t bring the headaches of malware, spyware, adware and fsckware that Windows introduces to the party. And I don’t even want to think about the viruses!
As I type this entry I am simultaneously fixing a family member’s computer which has Windows distorted beyond all comprehension. I was able to double the length of my beard in the time it took to open Internet Explorer. After this little waltz, I have my sister’s laptop to diagnose, a computer to finish building for my mother (she’s getting converted to Linux whether she likes it or not) and that doesn’t include all the “Please Help Me” requests I get at work.
It’s not that I don’t mind working on computer, because I like it very much. With all these projects, the geek in me is getting his opportunity to shine. But admittedly, my frustration with Microsoft products tends to shine through as well.
“Windows has not detected a keyboard. Press any key to continue.”
The software package we use at work is all built on Windows. It only runs on Windows. It’s so Microsoft centric that it doesn’t even try to use any other mail program when its sending out an e-mail bulletin. It’s Outlook Express or it’s tough luck.
You’ve heard it before. Close your Windows, and open the door. There’s a whole wide world of easy computing out there waiting for you.
The Best Laid Plans.
Earl and I have been planning the trip for months. We were going to put the top on the Jeep down and head due west. We were going to ride the roads until we reached Montana. We would then take pictures of us drinking and driving (because its still legal there), see a few sights, chase a tornado and head back home. It would take 10 days. It’s occupied my thoughts since we got home from Disney in February.
Scrap that.
Tonight we went and bought a pop-up camper. It’s a brand new 21-foot when opened Fleetwood, complete with heat, refrigerator, two king sized beds and a sink that doubles as a shower if you use the vegetable sprayer wisely. (I’m just kidding about the shower part, to clean up you dunk your head in the porta-john.)
I love camping. (stop the snickering). I really do. When Earl and I got together we camped a number of times during our first couple of summers. But then I made a discovery. Earl hates tents. I’m not a huge fan of tents either, but I like camping and getting all outdoorsy and stuff. Jiffy Pop just doesn’t “pop” for me unless it’s over a camp fire. I like the adventure of using a public shower. The sound of the crashing waves on Lake Ontario is music to my ears.
Earl loves camping too, as long as he doesn’t have to sleep on the ground. So we bought the camper.
It’s actually very nice and I look forward to accessorizing with the obligatory patio lights hung with clothes pins. Earl wants the lights in the shape of jalepeños. I’m looking forward to riding through a thunderstorm in this little beauty. It’s going to be great. Besides, the money that we’d spend on the trip out west will now provide vacation enjoyment for years to come. Next year we can head out west with the camper and do it rugged style.
As I apparently said in my sleep the other night (so Earl says), “Bears in the woods go grrr grrr grrr.”
Toughen Up Cupcake.
I’m in sort of a “Woe Is Me” type of mood today and quite frankly I’m finding myself tiring of it easily. I can just imagine how my co-workers feel.
Last night was a hot, steamy, sultry night. The air was very heavy and very warm. You could cut the humidity with a steak knife. While this weather would be welcomed on the weekend, it doesn’t work out well during the week because it makes it very difficult to sleep in our house, considering we don’t have air conditioning. So I slept on the bed, and the futon, and the floor, and the front porch, and the living room couch and so on… and never got more than an hour or so of continuous sleep, interrupted by bouts just plain uncomfortableness.
So I’m a little cranky today.
Now let’s not confuse “cranky” with “surly” as I like to think that I’m being civil to people for a change. But I’m finding my patience wearing thin with customers. (Them: “I’m calling Hong Kong, and it’s taking over five seconds for the call to connect!” Me: ” Did it ever occur to you that Hong Kong is 3/4 of the way around the world and perhaps it takes a few extra seconds to let your fingers do the walking?”)
Just before lunch I had a meeting with the director of our department, who informed me that I will be attending a short training session on some new equipment tomorrow in Syracuse. That news actually put me in a better mood. It’s a little change of pace. A little bit of fresh air. And it shows that the company values my contribution by investing a little time in me.
So instead of taking a nap during my lunch hour like I vowed I would do when I woke up this morning, I celebrated by emptying the dishwasher, cleaning up the kitchen a little and writing in my blog. (Yes, the domestic God in me lives on, at least to a point.)
Sometimes its good to just suck it up and roll with the punches. You’d think at 36 11/12 years of age I’d know that by now.
Rumbles Of Relief.
As I type this blog entry, a little thunderstorm is passing through the area. It doesn’t have enough punch to lower the temperature or lessen the humidity. Its all flash and no substance. The wind barely rattles the blinds.
But down the rain comes.
It’s been in the high 80s to mid 90s for almost a week. Relief may be coming our way by the end of the week. Maybe.
I can’t remember it being so hot in June. And I’m a weather nut. It’s going to be a very interesting summer.
Pink.
While we were out and about this past weekend, I noticed a lot of guys wearing pink these days, especially guys that you wouldn’t figure to be wearing pink. There they would be, a stereotypical tough guy with multiple tattoos, a few body piercings, a pencil thin beard and mustache and a whole bad-ass attitude going on. All whilst wearing a pink shirt.
Sorry, but the pink shirt negates the whole bad-ass thing.
Back in the mid 80s, the last time pink was a popular color, I didn’t think it looked right then either. I’ve never owned a pink shirt. I did own a black and white shirt from Jordan Marsh that had just a very small touch of pink in it, but I reserved that get up for gay pride. I couldn’t bring myself to wear an all pink shirt. Not only because it clashed horribly with my auburn hair but just because wearing pink didn’t really fit right with me. I’m old school in that “blue is for boys and pink is for girls.”
I’m a big fan of the earthtones. My clothes selection is very easy to mix and match simply because everything is an earthtone- green, tan, brown. Once in a while I’ll go crazy and wear black and white to work. Or maybe a splash of blue. But I don’t get the pink thing. On the other hand, I don’t get the bleached blond hair, eyeliner or eyeshadow on guys either. I’m not saying that every guy need to be running around with a flattop and full beard (though that would be hot). I understand that to feel good about yourself you need to make the most of what you have. Lord knows I’ve tried numerous styles of my hair and beard. And I like to think that I accept people for who they are and what they are. If they want to wear pink, then wear pink and wear it with pride.
Just don’t expect me to take your “tough guy” image seriously.
