A Funny Thing Happened on the way to Dane Allred
Three Car Pile-up
I drive the speed limit. I didn’t always. I used to drive a Mazda RX-7. My mom sold it to me after she had driven it a few years. I talked my wife into buying it. She was dubious until we pulled up and she remembered what the car looked like. As we pulled into my mom’s driveway, my wife turned to me and said, “Can I have it?”
She drove the car for a while until she had cancer. She’s fine now, but after chemotherapy she decided the car smell like chemo, and we bought her a new car. I loved driving that sports car. It could take corners at just about any speed, which isn’t good for your driving point total. I don’t know how many tickets I got, but eventually I had enough points to endanger my driver’s license. I could get the points reduced in half by going to traffic school, and so I did.
Eventually the car wouldn’t pass inspections, so I sold it. I got older and started going the speed limit. It’s just not as fun unless you are in a sports car, so I rarely get tickets anymore. The contradiction to this statement happened when I decided to leave the slow lane on the freeway.
There is a place on the freeway where every day there seemed to be a slow down at a particular part of the road. All of the cars were going around a slight corner, and for some reason, no one was able to keep going the speed limit. So everyone slows to a crawl.
I decided to leave the safe, slow right lane where I am nearly always found these days. I went to the middle lane, and it was slowing down, too. So I moved to the fast lane, and I was still going way too fast. The cars in the fast lane were stopped. The car in front of me was stopped. I didn’t think I was going to be able to stop.
I was right. I skidded a bit and hit the car in front of me going about 5 miles per hour. It was really more of a soft tap so I doubted there was even going to be a dent. But then I looked in the mirror. The guy behind me was not slowing down. He was going about 35 to 40 miles per hour, and he rammed my car hard enough to bounce me into the car in front of me again, and this time I hit the guy in front of me hard enough to knock his hat off.
So now I had been in a three car pile-up. We were the only three who had an accident. Everyone else was cautious enough to not hit someone else. So we checked out our damage and pulled off the side of the road. The police officer had us pull to the next exit to clear the freeway, and I was supposed to be teaching in about an hour. Here’s the problem. I got a ticket for hitting the guy in front of me. The guy behind me got a ticket for hitting me. So writing the tickets took longer than I thought it might. I had to call one of the students in my class and tell them to go home.
The guy in front of me had an old junker like me. He checked for damage on his car, and decided there really wasn’t a reason to file a claim. He was just glad he wasn’t carrying big pieces of metal in the back of his car like he usually did. My car also didn’t seem to be damaged at all, and I attribute that to the spare tire which hangs on the back of my Jeep type car. The guy behind me had hit right into the tire. I later saw that the tire and the door were moved a bit forward, and the door wouldn’t open any morebut I usually don’t use that door anyway.
So the two of us, in the front had little or no damage. Who I really felt sorry for was the guy who hit me. He was driving a fairly new pickup truck, and the tire on the back of my car had demolished his front end. The hood was bent up, the fender was crushed, and the headlights had fallen to the ground. There must have been thousands of dollars in damage. He had no one to blame but himself.
Of the three cars involved, he was driving the nicest. Of the three cars, he had the most damage. Is there a moral to this story?
It may be drive a junker, and stay in the slow lane.
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Showing posts with label driving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label driving. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Road rage
Abundance
September 9, 2009
It’s official. I’m an ass. I’m sure I’m not the only one. You may be one, too.
I’m guessing there is construction going on in your part of the neighborhood. With all of the economic stimulus money circulating, much of it has hit the pavement. I live in Utah, and we were one of the more “shovel-ready” states, with over 80 road projects which had been approved and were just waiting for money. That’s the good news. The bad news is construction delays are the worst I’ve seen in four decades of driving. The really bad news is I’ve heard only 30 percent of our projects are currently being worked on, which means I can look forward to three times the delays I’m experiencing now.
I broadcast a weekly program call Abundance on www.k-talk.com every Sunday from 7:00 p.m. to 8:00 p.m. mountain time, which is 9 to 10 Eastern Time, and 6 to 7 for the West Coast. This last week I implored the good people of the Beehive State to be more civil to each other, with a special request to obey the laws and go the speed limit. I even said on the air I wouldn’t cut anyone off in traffic. You can listen to the deadly minute by visiting daneallred.podbean.com.
But there really are some great benefits to obeying the laws. I go the speed limit in the right lane and get passed by almost every car on the road. I do end up passing one or two people every mile or so. I don’t automatically move my foot from the accelerator to the brake when I see a police officer. I’m going the speed limit, so I’m not worried. If I get pulled over, it’s for a broken brake light, and I appreciate the information. I have so little stress when I drive I actually have time to enjoy the drive. I love to drive, and the fact that my air conditioning doesn’t work doesn’t matter. I flip up the soft top on my RTV (which stands for Rough Terrain Vehicle – basically a Jeep but not the Jeep brand), roll down the driver’s side window and let the WD30 do its work (windows down at 30 miles per hour). It doesn’t work if I’m going slower than thirty miles per hour. Summer is my favorite time to drive and let the wind blow through my hair.
After advocating civility two days ago on the radio, I was uncivil today. As the lanes narrowed to one, I passed the big trucks and one guy who had pulled over behind a big rig. I didn’t understand why he pulled over, but then I saw the merge sign. I tried to be nice. I slowed, and let the two cars in front of me merge first, and then I started to move over.
You’ve been next a guy like this. He doesn’t want me to get in front of him, even though we are going 15 miles per hour. He refuses to slow down, and so did I. My car has over 200,000 miles on it and it’s a ninety-five. That’s right. Nineteen-ninety-five. Last century. It’s fourteen years old.
Do you think I care if it gets banged up at 15 miles per hour? It’s got at least 4 “personal touches” which make it a unique car. Two from my daughter, one from my windsurfing board, and a drivers side window you have to hold at the top and pull while you roll the window up with your other hand, or it goes sideways and won’t roll up.
The guy in the other lane is driving a fairly new SUV, I think Kia. He will definitely lose in this stupid game of chicken we are playing. He keeps nose to nose with me as he shifts over into the breakdown lane, because I am a man I now I have made a stand I have to follow through. The cursing began. I was told my mother wasn’t married when I was born, and as I told you above, I was called an ass. I won’t discuss the other invectives, but I have heard them all before and I must admit I have used all of them before. He was right. I was being an ass.
But after the string of insults, he pulled out a gun. Just kidding. We’re in Utah, remember? He pulled behind me, but was definitely not happy about it, judging from the way he tailgated me for the next mile. We may have reached 20 miles per hour, and that meant I was passing the orange cone 2 seconds before my new friend behind me. So when the opportunity presented itself, I decided to do the right thing, and let him in front of me.
I pulled out a gun. Not really, I pulled over, and as he passed me, he restated the obvious truth. I had acted like an ass, and he was there to call me that again. Notice he did not stop, call on me to pull over, or challenge my manhood in any other way, but after hurling those hurtful words one last time, pulled ahead of me.
For the next two miles, he passed the orange cone two seconds before me.
While we dashed from cone to cone at 25 miles per hour, I wondered why I had been so stubborn, why he had been so stubborn, and why road rage is all the rage these days. If the car or truck we drive is the extension of our personalities, then I guess I am a big ass. I did think of a smart retort while we were crawling down the road. Could I pass him again, and when he called me an ass again, shout back to him, “I’ve got one, but so are you.” It’s even more grade school now when I see it written down.
Solutions? I’m open to suggestions, but I yearn for the days of the car Will Smith drives in “I, Robot”. The cars regulate themselves in traffic, you don’t have to steer, and they climb up the sides of buildings. But even Will Smith can’t resist the urge to take off the “auto-pilot” and trash dozens of vehicles in a tunnel.
This next week I think I’ll talk about appearances. I may seem mild-mannered on the outside, but really, I’m an ass.
I guess the future may be just more of the same. Save the right lane for me. And let me merge.
Dane Allred teaches drama, public speaking and hosts a Sunday program on www.k-talk.com every Sunday. He also appears as the cop in “White on Rice”, now in limited release in theatres around the country. He also portrays an alcoholic abusive father in “The Alice Winter”, a recently released short film headed for competition at Cannes.
September 9, 2009
It’s official. I’m an ass. I’m sure I’m not the only one. You may be one, too.
I’m guessing there is construction going on in your part of the neighborhood. With all of the economic stimulus money circulating, much of it has hit the pavement. I live in Utah, and we were one of the more “shovel-ready” states, with over 80 road projects which had been approved and were just waiting for money. That’s the good news. The bad news is construction delays are the worst I’ve seen in four decades of driving. The really bad news is I’ve heard only 30 percent of our projects are currently being worked on, which means I can look forward to three times the delays I’m experiencing now.
I broadcast a weekly program call Abundance on www.k-talk.com every Sunday from 7:00 p.m. to 8:00 p.m. mountain time, which is 9 to 10 Eastern Time, and 6 to 7 for the West Coast. This last week I implored the good people of the Beehive State to be more civil to each other, with a special request to obey the laws and go the speed limit. I even said on the air I wouldn’t cut anyone off in traffic. You can listen to the deadly minute by visiting daneallred.podbean.com.
But there really are some great benefits to obeying the laws. I go the speed limit in the right lane and get passed by almost every car on the road. I do end up passing one or two people every mile or so. I don’t automatically move my foot from the accelerator to the brake when I see a police officer. I’m going the speed limit, so I’m not worried. If I get pulled over, it’s for a broken brake light, and I appreciate the information. I have so little stress when I drive I actually have time to enjoy the drive. I love to drive, and the fact that my air conditioning doesn’t work doesn’t matter. I flip up the soft top on my RTV (which stands for Rough Terrain Vehicle – basically a Jeep but not the Jeep brand), roll down the driver’s side window and let the WD30 do its work (windows down at 30 miles per hour). It doesn’t work if I’m going slower than thirty miles per hour. Summer is my favorite time to drive and let the wind blow through my hair.
After advocating civility two days ago on the radio, I was uncivil today. As the lanes narrowed to one, I passed the big trucks and one guy who had pulled over behind a big rig. I didn’t understand why he pulled over, but then I saw the merge sign. I tried to be nice. I slowed, and let the two cars in front of me merge first, and then I started to move over.
You’ve been next a guy like this. He doesn’t want me to get in front of him, even though we are going 15 miles per hour. He refuses to slow down, and so did I. My car has over 200,000 miles on it and it’s a ninety-five. That’s right. Nineteen-ninety-five. Last century. It’s fourteen years old.
Do you think I care if it gets banged up at 15 miles per hour? It’s got at least 4 “personal touches” which make it a unique car. Two from my daughter, one from my windsurfing board, and a drivers side window you have to hold at the top and pull while you roll the window up with your other hand, or it goes sideways and won’t roll up.
The guy in the other lane is driving a fairly new SUV, I think Kia. He will definitely lose in this stupid game of chicken we are playing. He keeps nose to nose with me as he shifts over into the breakdown lane, because I am a man I now I have made a stand I have to follow through. The cursing began. I was told my mother wasn’t married when I was born, and as I told you above, I was called an ass. I won’t discuss the other invectives, but I have heard them all before and I must admit I have used all of them before. He was right. I was being an ass.
But after the string of insults, he pulled out a gun. Just kidding. We’re in Utah, remember? He pulled behind me, but was definitely not happy about it, judging from the way he tailgated me for the next mile. We may have reached 20 miles per hour, and that meant I was passing the orange cone 2 seconds before my new friend behind me. So when the opportunity presented itself, I decided to do the right thing, and let him in front of me.
I pulled out a gun. Not really, I pulled over, and as he passed me, he restated the obvious truth. I had acted like an ass, and he was there to call me that again. Notice he did not stop, call on me to pull over, or challenge my manhood in any other way, but after hurling those hurtful words one last time, pulled ahead of me.
For the next two miles, he passed the orange cone two seconds before me.
While we dashed from cone to cone at 25 miles per hour, I wondered why I had been so stubborn, why he had been so stubborn, and why road rage is all the rage these days. If the car or truck we drive is the extension of our personalities, then I guess I am a big ass. I did think of a smart retort while we were crawling down the road. Could I pass him again, and when he called me an ass again, shout back to him, “I’ve got one, but so are you.” It’s even more grade school now when I see it written down.
Solutions? I’m open to suggestions, but I yearn for the days of the car Will Smith drives in “I, Robot”. The cars regulate themselves in traffic, you don’t have to steer, and they climb up the sides of buildings. But even Will Smith can’t resist the urge to take off the “auto-pilot” and trash dozens of vehicles in a tunnel.
This next week I think I’ll talk about appearances. I may seem mild-mannered on the outside, but really, I’m an ass.
I guess the future may be just more of the same. Save the right lane for me. And let me merge.
Dane Allred teaches drama, public speaking and hosts a Sunday program on www.k-talk.com every Sunday. He also appears as the cop in “White on Rice”, now in limited release in theatres around the country. He also portrays an alcoholic abusive father in “The Alice Winter”, a recently released short film headed for competition at Cannes.
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