The Daily Times

You know, I’m usually a pretty laid-back driver.

I don’t get bent out of shape by much on the road. Unlike some folks who need to take a Diovan every time they get behind the wheel, I’m content to get where I’m going regardless of unexpected obstacles that might hinder my progress. Traffic snarls ... road closures ... red lights ... they’re a part of life when you own an automobile, and there’s no need, in my opinion, to treat them as a personal affront.

If only every other individual with whom I have to share the road felt the same way. Unfortunately, a select few persons treat the thoroughfares of our fine city and county as their personal Indy 500 track, disregarding speed limit signs, pedestrians and other motorists unless a cop happens to be in the vicinity.

It puzzles me why, if they feel so entitled when in control of a vehicle, they’re allowed to possess a driver’s license. Granted, the proliferation of cell phones has contributed somewhat to delinquency behind the wheel, but I believe the poltroons who act like the second coming of Dale Earnhardt were probably just as annoying and dangerous before they were able to text/talk and drive.

I see it every day in front of The Daily Times. One car putters leisurely down East Harper toward the intersection with Cusick, and apparently it’s not fast enough for the vehicle following. The second driver swerves into the turn lane, punches the gas and cuts back in front of the lead car ... only to come to a complete stop a moment later at the red light. I’m not sure if they’re jockeying for the pole position off of the light or are convinced their little maneuver will get them to their destination a whole five seconds sooner; either way, it’s asinine and unnecessary.

I could, of course, go on and on. From the buffoon unaware his car is equipped with that nifty little accessory known as a turn signal or the swellhead who thinks his low-riding pimp-mobile is so precious he needs to park it across three spaces in the grocery store lot, the byways and highways of America can be frustrating places to navigate.

And then there are the individuals who endanger our lives. Like the other morning, for example.

Here I was, on my way to work, rocking out to the Drive-By Truckers and stopped at the four-way at Parham Avenue and East Harper. I’m the only one at the intersection and start to ease out, only yards from my place of employment, when my peripheral vision notices a car barreling down the hill from the direction of Olympia.

“He’s not slowing down,” I think.

Sure enough, Capt. Oblivious blows through the intersection as if the city decided the stop sign staring him in the face was optional. I shake my head, drive on, and arrive at the Times. A few hours later, I step outside for a break ... and notice the exact same vehicle, make and model of which will go unmentioned, parked in front of the Times.

I wanted to wait and say something, maybe point out in a kind and gentle manner that he’d nearly T-boned me, but really, what would have been the point? I doubt he even noticed. I could have left a note on his windshield, but alas, pen and pad were inside on my desk, and I didn’t feel like walking all the way back in to retrieve them.

And then it hit me: I should, as a service, pen a generic letter to such drivers for myself and all of you to use at a future date.

And so here we are, friends. Clip this out. Better yet, buy several copies of this edition, remove the section contained herein and keep them in your car. Fill out the appropriate blanks and use them at will. You’ll avoid confrontation and get whatever frustration you might feel out of your system before you go on your merry way.

And maybe, just maybe, the offending driver will think twice before being stupid:

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“Hey, moron.

Yes, this note is addressing you. Or rather, the way that you drive and/or park your vehicle.

I don’t know you, but I’m convinced you obtained your driver’s license off the back of a cereal box and took driving lessons from Toonces, the cat from the old “Saturday Night Live” skit who always drove his car off a cliff. Your reckless actions at ___________________ nearly cost us a both a big insurance headache and, depending on how shaken up I might have been after the crash, probably a physical altercation as well.

It probably won’t make a difference because either it was an accident — which most likely means you’re an idiot — or you did it on person, which means you don’t care because you’re self-obsessed jerk. Either way, you’re a danger to yourself and others.

Please, stop driving until you receive professional instruction.

Sincerely,

Me

P.S.: This note may also apply to your decision to take up two parking spaces. Unnecessary and egotistical, I might add. Your vehicle isn’t nearly as special as you think it is.”

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Hopefully, the above note will alleviate your own stress, and you won’t feel the need to act like one of the very people who deserve such a note.

Safe driving, people. In the words of Sgt. Esterhaus from the old “Hill Street Blues” show, “Let’s be careful out there.”

Contact Steve Wildsmith at stevew@thedailytimes.com or at 981-1144.

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