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Want To Drive Yourself Crazy?
I thought we would induce a little deja-vu into our lives and take a weekend drive into the country. What a nightmare it turned out to be!
In the good old days, grandfather would roll out the Chrysler Fluid Drive on a Sunday afternoon, the family would pile in and off we'd go, out into the country, away from the hustle and bustle of the big noisy city. I remember how he would tool along at thirty miles an hour, his eyes fixed on the road ahead while we all pointed and yelled at the sights we saw as the car zoomed along.
We left town to visit family up in the north, carrying with us some small gifts for the young cousins we had not seen for some time and looking forward to countrified sights and smells. What a mistake!
No longer can you tool along anywhere. Along the coastal road going North, sometimes two lanes and sometimes three lanes wide, you are forced along at the speed that the driver behind you wants to drive. He drives up right behind you until his car fills your rear-view mirror and then goes to war – blowing his horn, flashing his lights and sending clear sig
nals with his fist and various fingers. You have nowhere to go – in the center lane they are practicing for the Grand Prix at 140 and in the fast lane they are already in the Grand Prix.
So you do the only thing left to you – you put your foot down. Soon you too are caught up in the speed madness, screaming along, gripping the wheel with both hands, your knuckles white and completely oblivious to the signs and scenery flashing by. Inside the car everyone is quiet, tense and nervous at the high speed. Eventually he turns off or passes you and you relax for a second until a bus looms into the mirror and the game starts again.
While the deadly game goes on you are also busy avoiding the potholes. It feels rather like the game that the children play on the computer or the play-station. The road is filled with them. Potholes and filled-in trenches for cable s and pipes are interspersed with projecting manhole covers, cleverly designed so that if you miss the hole, you immediately hit a manhole cover.
Driving is no longer fun. It's too nerve-wracking and tense. And there's something much worse coming when your drive is over: where are you going to park?
In the good old days, grandfather would roll out the Chrysler Fluid Drive on a Sunday afternoon, the family would pile in and off we'd go, out into the country, away from the hustle and bustle of the big noisy city. I remember how he would tool along at thirty miles an hour, his eyes fixed on the road ahead while we all pointed and yelled at the sights we saw as the car zoomed along.
We left town to visit family up in the north, carrying with us some small gifts for the young cousins we had not seen for some time and looking forward to countrified sights and smells. What a mistake!
No longer can you tool along anywhere. Along the coastal road going North, sometimes two lanes and sometimes three lanes wide, you are forced along at the speed that the driver behind you wants to drive. He drives up right behind you until his car fills your rear-view mirror and then goes to war – blowing his horn, flashing his lights and sending clear sig
So you do the only thing left to you – you put your foot down. Soon you too are caught up in the speed madness, screaming along, gripping the wheel with both hands, your knuckles white and completely oblivious to the signs and scenery flashing by. Inside the car everyone is quiet, tense and nervous at the high speed. Eventually he turns off or passes you and you relax for a second until a bus looms into the mirror and the game starts again.
While the deadly game goes on you are also busy avoiding the potholes. It feels rather like the game that the children play on the computer or the play-station. The road is filled with them. Potholes and filled-in trenches for cable s and pipes are interspersed with projecting manhole covers, cleverly designed so that if you miss the hole, you immediately hit a manhole cover.
Driving is no longer fun. It's too nerve-wracking and tense. And there's something much worse coming when your drive is over: where are you going to park?
Tags & Keywords : Driving, traffic, parking
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