September 23, 2009
Tuesday evening, Sept 22, 10:05 pm: What the hell? Eastbound on the MassPike between Framingham and Newton, a car appeared in the passing lane traveling at a phenomenal speed. 90? 100? 120? Higher? My car isn’t equipped with a radar to measure such data.
Oh, by the way, it was a state trooper. No lights, no siren. Just breakneck speed.
It flew by, and then, surprisingly, seemed to slow down several hundred yards ahead. I was doing about 70 in a 65 mph zone, so as Boston drivers go I was barely moving, but pretty soon I caught up to the vehicle, because it had slowed down to a rate far below the speed limit. 40? Again, no way to tell. But it was at that point, when I passed it, that it was traveling at a dangerously SLOW speed.
Then? It sped up again to light speed and flashed away, disappearing in moments. No flashing lights, no siren, nothing to warn citizens of a dangerously risky situation.
What was going on? Was a trooper — a Bostonian in the habit of driving way too fast since a teenager — having too much fun? Was he or she practicing high speed chase maneuvers? Whatever the purpose, this was extremely unsafe and unprofessional behavior.
September 22, 2009
Thursday, Sept 17: why did it take me THREE HOURS to drive from Framingham to East Boston? It is about 32 miles, and usually takes about 40-45 minutes. Just the 12-mile section alone of Rte 90 between Framingham and the toll plaza at Rte 95/128 took TWO (2) HOURS.
I left my office at Framingham State College at 4:30 and finally arrived at home at 7:30 pm. It would have felt good to have killed someone, except that I was far too tired. Now, who can I blame?…
January 21, 2009
That funny little metal rod sticking out of the left of your steering wheel — you don’t know what that is, do you? It’s called a “turn signal”.
Why do Boston drivers refuse to use it? Is it a sign of weakness? A display of femininity in a macho traffic world? Why wouldn’t you use a tool that is designed to increase the safety of others, as well as your own?
Drivers along the MassPike and elsewhere flit back and forth between lanes, as if they were the only ones on the road. YOU’RE NOT. There are plenty of us, and your refusal to use the turn signal, whether due to ignorance or your own lack of character (let’s just say you’re an asshole and be done with it) increases the chances of accidents. Turn signals indicate to others your desire and your intention to change lanes, and that allows the rest of us to prepare, and to act accordingly.
Don’t you see that it is important to disseminate information while driving at high speed? One of the key assertions of Tom Vanderbilt in his book “Traffic” is that there are insufficient means for feedback on the road. Wouldn’t you want as much road safety information as possible when traveling at 70+ mph? Wouldn’t you want others around you to know your intentions, or do you want your high speed movements to be a total surprise to everyone else? Surprise is a bad thing when fractions of a second can mean the difference between a fatal accident and a smooth lane change. As for other kinds of highway feedback, honking a horn communicates little except displeasure, unless it’s an emergency. Hand gestures can mean anything, IF they are seen at all. A turn signal is an easy-to-see indicator of intent, and requires only the merest flick of a finger.
Oh wait, of course you couldn’t spare that finger for a turn signal flick — you’re using those fingers to talk on your cell phones. Or maybe you are using those digits for ingesting a breakfast burrito. I understand: the effort to turn on a turn signal is simply too much for you.
If we are to take Barack Obama’s words about personal responsibility seriously, then perhaps we could add to those public services tasks the act of using a turn signal.
C’mon, Boston! Try a little harder to be better, safer drivers. Slow down a little, allow more room in front of you, and use your turn signals!
January 14, 2009
Drive around Boston for a few months, and you’ll soon see that driving test standards have fallen precipitously. Like an Aston Martin off a cliff. Clearly anyone can get a driver’s license these days.
You can be at the bottom of your high school class, have flunked every math and physics class you’ve ever had, and still you are allowed to pilot a two-ton hunk of steel at 70 mph across our nation. Oh, good. If you have no idea how your car works, if it is a magical contraption to you, one that mysteriously makes noise and goes from A to B because you twisted the ignition key and pushed a foot pedal, you should not be driving; you should be walking. Or taking public transport.
Without even a modest grounding in math and science — and that math résumé should include some probability and statistics – drivers don’t have the necessary analytical tools to understand the important parts of the car: what is happening under the hood; how brakes work; what tires can do and not do. Further, without math and science skills, they can’t understand what is going on around the car being driven. Why else would so many Bostonians drive so close to the cars in front of them, while going at high speed?
Stop and think about this. Since Henry Ford told Americans to be happy with a black car, we have been told to put a safe distance between our car and the one in front of us. The rule of thumb says to allow one car length for every ten miles an hour of speed. Why is that? It’s to provide a buffer zone in case we need to slow down, stop or change direction. Things happen very quickly, in fractions of a second, when traveling at 70 mph. Wouldn’t you rather have a margin of safety, for you, and for your passengers?
If you are one of the many people I have seen, driving just a few feet behind the vehicle in front of you, you must think that you are a superhuman, with superfast reflexes, and your car has brakes and tires so good that they are above the laws of physics.
You people are idiots, and we can only hope that the Darwin Effect removes you from the population before you hurt innocent drivers.
Back off a little, Boston drivers. Give the car in front of you a little room, and live a little longer.