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It's always the SUV's that I see on their side (or upside down!)
Didn't see the one in that link, allegedly caused by the storm here. Personally, I expect it had more to do with someone unable to compensate for road conditions than from the road conditions themselves.
Seriously - in the first winter I was here, I saw three large to mid-sized SUV's in compromising positions. One was spinning around on its roof. Two were involved in a cross-collision that resulted in one a pregnant driver going into shock and the other driver losing their arm (at least. I saw it pinned, so I know that much. Whether or not the person attached to it pulled through, I do not know.) Unfortunately, I've also seen quite a few others - in corn fields, up the side of a hill, rolled into ditches, and more - since then.
Didn't see the one in that link, allegedly caused by the storm here. Personally, I expect it had more to do with someone unable to compensate for road conditions than from the road conditions themselves.
Seriously - in the first winter I was here, I saw three large to mid-sized SUV's in compromising positions. One was spinning around on its roof. Two were involved in a cross-collision that resulted in one a pregnant driver going into shock and the other driver losing their arm (at least. I saw it pinned, so I know that much. Whether or not the person attached to it pulled through, I do not know.) Unfortunately, I've also seen quite a few others - in corn fields, up the side of a hill, rolled into ditches, and more - since then.
Snow! Snow! I Gots Snow!
Jan. 17th, 2008 05:57 pmUmmmm, yeah. Just a little excitement.
Not enough to plow. Yet. Looks like it's heading that way. I even had to use 1st & 2nd gear on the ride home, and spent a half hour on a stretch of road that usually takes 40 seconds.
One car had made a left turn to a side street to avoid all the traffic. He finally ground to a halt after spending about 300-400 feet plowing through some yards. Apparently he hadn't realized he was parallel to the road and not on it. That's actually giving him more benefit of the doubt than anyone deserves. Judging from his trail, he took the turn too fast, dropped over the edge of the road, and, being a moron, tried to keep going and make it to the driveway and back up to the road (at this time his roof was level with the road due to a bank).
Two other cars were pulled one to each side of the road a bit further on. The bright pink lowered, flared, and wannabe-racified little import had its hazards - four-ways - whateveryacallums locally - on in back, and his tail lights as well, but the entire front of the car was lights-out. The bright yellow mini-SUV was not rolled over in a ditch - I say this, because SUVs from the tiny Suzuki's to the hugeous Expeditions are what I usually upside down in a field - but did have a deep impression in the drivers-side doors that rather matched the boxy front grill of the pink thing. My guess - the SUV pulled out of a driveway, possibly cutting off pinko, possibly just taken out by the get-off-my-racetrack speed of the pink thing, which had no doubt been chortling along with an exhaust note similar to my bargain lawn mower (the big DR has a much deeper sound than those modified mufflers lend the import crowd).
But soon... soon! Plowing! =)
Not enough to plow. Yet. Looks like it's heading that way. I even had to use 1st & 2nd gear on the ride home, and spent a half hour on a stretch of road that usually takes 40 seconds.
One car had made a left turn to a side street to avoid all the traffic. He finally ground to a halt after spending about 300-400 feet plowing through some yards. Apparently he hadn't realized he was parallel to the road and not on it. That's actually giving him more benefit of the doubt than anyone deserves. Judging from his trail, he took the turn too fast, dropped over the edge of the road, and, being a moron, tried to keep going and make it to the driveway and back up to the road (at this time his roof was level with the road due to a bank).
Two other cars were pulled one to each side of the road a bit further on. The bright pink lowered, flared, and wannabe-racified little import had its hazards - four-ways - whateveryacallums locally - on in back, and his tail lights as well, but the entire front of the car was lights-out. The bright yellow mini-SUV was not rolled over in a ditch - I say this, because SUVs from the tiny Suzuki's to the hugeous Expeditions are what I usually upside down in a field - but did have a deep impression in the drivers-side doors that rather matched the boxy front grill of the pink thing. My guess - the SUV pulled out of a driveway, possibly cutting off pinko, possibly just taken out by the get-off-my-racetrack speed of the pink thing, which had no doubt been chortling along with an exhaust note similar to my bargain lawn mower (the big DR has a much deeper sound than those modified mufflers lend the import crowd).
But soon... soon! Plowing! =)
On Poetry and Other Updatia
Jan. 11th, 2008 08:45 amUnfortunately, I won't be able to get to the Poetry Circle tonight at the Moravian Book Shop. Too much going on. I do have the one new poem - and another one whispered to me on the ride in. I'll have to see if I have time later to write it down.
Although I have long known this, two of my fellow commuters saw fit to remind me that those funny red signs with the letters S, T, O, and P do not, in fact, mean stop, as those silly DOT folks might want you to think. In fact, they have multiple meanings: the first being: Almost But Not Really Pause and Don't Even Slow Down Because You're More Important Than Those With The Right-Of-Way.
I have several different posts in mind that will help resurrect Pieces of Me - not to mention the ones I had planned to write just before my father was diagnosed, declined, and died. Although that particular series - on religion - was originally planned for the holiday season, I think I'll still get to those posts, but just mixed in with other topics.
Although I have long known this, two of my fellow commuters saw fit to remind me that those funny red signs with the letters S, T, O, and P do not, in fact, mean stop, as those silly DOT folks might want you to think. In fact, they have multiple meanings: the first being: Almost But Not Really Pause and Don't Even Slow Down Because You're More Important Than Those With The Right-Of-Way.
I have several different posts in mind that will help resurrect Pieces of Me - not to mention the ones I had planned to write just before my father was diagnosed, declined, and died. Although that particular series - on religion - was originally planned for the holiday season, I think I'll still get to those posts, but just mixed in with other topics.
(no subject)
Dec. 18th, 2007 09:30 amThe snow around here looks like someone poured molten shiny plastic. Our driveway was barely even scuffed when I drove over it last night with 3165 some pounds of Subaru. It's kind of like having a paved driveway, really. No more gravel - just all this white asphalt. Which would be healthier for my snowblower if the gravel hadn't already eaten the chain in the Thursday round of snow.
Molten plastic. I thought of this on the ride in, as I noticed that down here in the tropics of the Lehigh Valley, along with the mirror sheen of the poured plastic stuff, there were footprints. You could see where people went to get some mail, or drove a car. Apparently they got a more brittle mix way down south.
Of course, the whole molten plastic obsession could really be coming to mind because today - and last Friday - my preheated car smells an awful lot like an injection molding machine that's in use. Ahhh! the smell of molten plastic in the morning... Not sure what's on fire, yet. But it hasn't fully burned away. Yet.
I know, without a doubt, that it's not the windshield wipers.
You see, last year I discovered that Deb's pre-heated windshield wipers were the first I've ever found that freeze motionless and still try to work. One of two things then happens. Whatever's frozen thaws, and the wipers can complete their cycle ~or~ the motor on the wiper burns out and the wipers can't complete their cycle.
Turns out my car, with its lack-of-special-pre-heater-that-thaws-ice-so-it-seeps-in-and-freezes, has been spending too much time around Deb's car. Justin and I managed to cut most of the ice block from around the car, and, as I completed that bit of work, Justin made the ice-cement berm from the township plow into more of a ramp - wouldn't want my pitiful little front-wheel drive car to go belly up and hang their helpless, front wheels spinning. After all that, I managed to get around the corner, flip the wipers on, and watch them stick. Straight up.
That position is commonly known as the "Hey Officer, Look! My Wipers Don't Work!" position. At least when the wipers on Deb's car stuck, they stayed down. Didn't help clear the slush and grime on the window, but weren't dual flags sending coded signals to law enforcement officers. I pulled over, cleared every last little bit of ice from around them - not that it should have hung them up; they made it all the way to the top and were on their way back down - and still no change.
Called Justin up to put on some water for tea and headed home. Two teakettles of boiling water later - and, Justin on his way back for a third while I squinted at the engine compartment, looking for smoke or flames - they suddenly leapt into life.
~ ~ ~
In other news, I have the CPAP machine and I can now breath. Except for all those burning plastic fumes I sucked up on the ride in...
Turns out my sleep apnea was officially labelled severe. I had something like 46-51 episodes per hour, on average. I suppose not breathing and forcing myself to snort myself back into gear close to once a minute could interrupt the sleep a wee bit...
Molten plastic. I thought of this on the ride in, as I noticed that down here in the tropics of the Lehigh Valley, along with the mirror sheen of the poured plastic stuff, there were footprints. You could see where people went to get some mail, or drove a car. Apparently they got a more brittle mix way down south.
Of course, the whole molten plastic obsession could really be coming to mind because today - and last Friday - my preheated car smells an awful lot like an injection molding machine that's in use. Ahhh! the smell of molten plastic in the morning... Not sure what's on fire, yet. But it hasn't fully burned away. Yet.
I know, without a doubt, that it's not the windshield wipers.
You see, last year I discovered that Deb's pre-heated windshield wipers were the first I've ever found that freeze motionless and still try to work. One of two things then happens. Whatever's frozen thaws, and the wipers can complete their cycle ~or~ the motor on the wiper burns out and the wipers can't complete their cycle.
Turns out my car, with its lack-of-special-pre-heater-that-thaws-ice-so-it-seeps-in-and-freezes, has been spending too much time around Deb's car. Justin and I managed to cut most of the ice block from around the car, and, as I completed that bit of work, Justin made the ice-cement berm from the township plow into more of a ramp - wouldn't want my pitiful little front-wheel drive car to go belly up and hang their helpless, front wheels spinning. After all that, I managed to get around the corner, flip the wipers on, and watch them stick. Straight up.
That position is commonly known as the "Hey Officer, Look! My Wipers Don't Work!" position. At least when the wipers on Deb's car stuck, they stayed down. Didn't help clear the slush and grime on the window, but weren't dual flags sending coded signals to law enforcement officers. I pulled over, cleared every last little bit of ice from around them - not that it should have hung them up; they made it all the way to the top and were on their way back down - and still no change.
Called Justin up to put on some water for tea and headed home. Two teakettles of boiling water later - and, Justin on his way back for a third while I squinted at the engine compartment, looking for smoke or flames - they suddenly leapt into life.
~ ~ ~
In other news, I have the CPAP machine and I can now breath. Except for all those burning plastic fumes I sucked up on the ride in...
Turns out my sleep apnea was officially labelled severe. I had something like 46-51 episodes per hour, on average. I suppose not breathing and forcing myself to snort myself back into gear close to once a minute could interrupt the sleep a wee bit...
...Weather 'tis Nobler...
Dec. 13th, 2007 01:18 pmBotched Billy S. quotes aside, I'm keeping a weather eye on whether or not the weather situation is such that I should head home.
I have all-wheel-drive, and I'm not afraid to use it.
However, all the maroons in big HUGE SUVs - some of whom even have four wheel drive! - will be on the road, along with all the hapless lesser beings in front and, worse still, rear wheel drive. I'm not so much worried about me being able to pilot home in this massive 0.25" layer of snow and ice (climbing to an estimated 1.5" of snow at home) as I am concerned about those who don't understand things like proper distance between moving vehicles based on speed and road condition, let alone the whole Panic! I saw a snowflake! thing.
Funny thing, this morning. I came in a bit late, trying to make sense of the forecasts, and waiting for the wheatherfolk to come to a consensus. When they finally narrowed down the potential snowfall for my neighborhood to be somewhere in the one to twelve inches range, I decided that was close enough and headed in to the office.
I have all-wheel-drive, and I'm not afraid to use it.
However, all the maroons in big HUGE SUVs - some of whom even have four wheel drive! - will be on the road, along with all the hapless lesser beings in front and, worse still, rear wheel drive. I'm not so much worried about me being able to pilot home in this massive 0.25" layer of snow and ice (climbing to an estimated 1.5" of snow at home) as I am concerned about those who don't understand things like proper distance between moving vehicles based on speed and road condition, let alone the whole Panic! I saw a snowflake! thing.
Funny thing, this morning. I came in a bit late, trying to make sense of the forecasts, and waiting for the wheatherfolk to come to a consensus. When they finally narrowed down the potential snowfall for my neighborhood to be somewhere in the one to twelve inches range, I decided that was close enough and headed in to the office.
Love Letters from the Road
Aug. 23rd, 2007 08:04 amAttention Sir Mr. Big-Man-In-Suit, from Connecticut,
You'll notice that when I approached the red light this morning, that I slowed and stopped. This is generally considered the preferred behavior, as opposed to your actions of slowing, then accelerating through the red light.
You'll also notice that this running of the red light served many purposes, namely at the second light away, it left us side by side once again, and, at the third light, you were falling behind.
Please, though, feel free to continue to think you're more important than the rest of us. Right up until you kill or injure one of us in an accident, it provides no ends of entertainment.
Dear Kelli from New Jersey,
BMW might be sadly disappointed to find out that the turning circle of one of their overly-well-thought-of automobiles was actually far worse than that of an average city bus. I know this explicitly because the bus that followed you cleared my front fender with at least a car length to spare, while, for you, I was in the process of shifting into reverse. And here, all this time, I thought that left turn lane was set back to allow trucks and buses to make the turn without hitting the few cars that actually stop on the line instead of all the way up at the other lane's stop line. Turns out it's just for blondes in BMWs. Who'd have thought it?
Then again, it could be that you were just too engrossed with that strange, cellphone-like growth on the side of your head to actually bother turning the wheel enough to avoid hitting me. If it wasn't that, and it was actually that German engineering is critically flawed, I might have to advise the city to move that line back further so you can make your turn in safety.
You'll notice that when I approached the red light this morning, that I slowed and stopped. This is generally considered the preferred behavior, as opposed to your actions of slowing, then accelerating through the red light.
You'll also notice that this running of the red light served many purposes, namely at the second light away, it left us side by side once again, and, at the third light, you were falling behind.
Please, though, feel free to continue to think you're more important than the rest of us. Right up until you kill or injure one of us in an accident, it provides no ends of entertainment.
~ ~ ~
Dear Kelli from New Jersey,
BMW might be sadly disappointed to find out that the turning circle of one of their overly-well-thought-of automobiles was actually far worse than that of an average city bus. I know this explicitly because the bus that followed you cleared my front fender with at least a car length to spare, while, for you, I was in the process of shifting into reverse. And here, all this time, I thought that left turn lane was set back to allow trucks and buses to make the turn without hitting the few cars that actually stop on the line instead of all the way up at the other lane's stop line. Turns out it's just for blondes in BMWs. Who'd have thought it?
Then again, it could be that you were just too engrossed with that strange, cellphone-like growth on the side of your head to actually bother turning the wheel enough to avoid hitting me. If it wasn't that, and it was actually that German engineering is critically flawed, I might have to advise the city to move that line back further so you can make your turn in safety.
So That's Where Zombies Come From...
Aug. 3rd, 2007 08:20 amEver notice how many zombies pop up whenever some careless operator of a truck carrying toxic waste or experimental biohazardous material drives carelessly? And you think to yourself, well, self, that could never happen, because no one would drive like that with that kind of cargo...
Well, I don't know about the exact zombification process - although I'm sure the zombies have their best technicians and scientists working on improving the process of going from point A to Z - but I do know that whole "driver entrusted with toxic stuff acting like a madman" thing is, sadly, not part of the fictional realm.
Witness - or, perhaps, in his case, witless - the driver for Stericycle, Inc this morning, as he left Lehigh Valley Hospital Muhlenberg.
Now, that truck bore labellings for infectious waste - 30 cubic yards of it - and was licensed in NJ and PA. I only noticed the truck because we had just crossed the main entrance intersection - myself and a whole herd of other drivers, including a box truck in the right hand lane - and this idiot comes flying towards the tipping point out of the hospital directly in front of the box truck (about three times his size).
That, boys and girls, was not a proper demonstration of how to act when you see a "Yield" sign and are merging into moving traffic. That is, however, how you force a truck three times your size to stop the acceleration process and switch immediately to "stop, fast" and initiate accident avoidance procedures.
I got lucky. If one or the other of the two trucks had varied in speed just a little, the infectious waste truck would have been hit, flipped, and, given the direction he was going in at the time, likely landed on top of me.
At which time, even if zombification due to infectious waste scattered about did not actually occur, I would stand a good chance of not being here to type this.
Well, I don't know about the exact zombification process - although I'm sure the zombies have their best technicians and scientists working on improving the process of going from point A to Z - but I do know that whole "driver entrusted with toxic stuff acting like a madman" thing is, sadly, not part of the fictional realm.
Witness - or, perhaps, in his case, witless - the driver for Stericycle, Inc this morning, as he left Lehigh Valley Hospital Muhlenberg.
Now, that truck bore labellings for infectious waste - 30 cubic yards of it - and was licensed in NJ and PA. I only noticed the truck because we had just crossed the main entrance intersection - myself and a whole herd of other drivers, including a box truck in the right hand lane - and this idiot comes flying towards the tipping point out of the hospital directly in front of the box truck (about three times his size).
That, boys and girls, was not a proper demonstration of how to act when you see a "Yield" sign and are merging into moving traffic. That is, however, how you force a truck three times your size to stop the acceleration process and switch immediately to "stop, fast" and initiate accident avoidance procedures.
I got lucky. If one or the other of the two trucks had varied in speed just a little, the infectious waste truck would have been hit, flipped, and, given the direction he was going in at the time, likely landed on top of me.
At which time, even if zombification due to infectious waste scattered about did not actually occur, I would stand a good chance of not being here to type this.
Sociopaths and Incompetence
Feb. 16th, 2007 06:53 pmAh! The first storm of the season! And here we see exactly how poorly evolved a large segment of the population is.
First off, we'll start with some of the drivers. On the ride home tonight, that would be 187 individuals. Sociopaths. Terrorists. Attempted Murderers. Lazy-ass motherfuckers.
They can take time to talk on their cellphone instead of doing better things, like coordinating the left blinker with the right turn, but they can't take time to clear the inch to two inches of ice - sometimes in chunks - off their car. Oh, some think roof rack-van-pickup-SUV grants them a special pass, and it does. It makes them even more dangerous than the lazy-ass sociopaths in the smaller cars. Newsflash, PSA, and so forth: if you can't clear the snow off your vehicle, put the key on a hook in the cupboard and don't touch it until everything melts on its own. Sit on the couch, click channels. If you're going to be lazy, might as well go all-out couch potato. And that's why I say sociopath.
Let's review - and not all of these apply, but many do (care of http://www.hss.caltech.edu/~mcafee/Bin/sb.html):
-- Glibness and Superficial Charm
-- Manipulative and Conning : What, you think you could do a better job?
-- Grandiose Sense of Self : Hey, I'm more important than you!
-- Pathological Lying : I cleared it as best as I could.
-- Lack of Remorse, Shame or Guilt : So, the ice smashed your windshield. So your family member(s) were hurt. Or died. I'm still not going to clear my damn car.
-- Shallow Emotions : How dare you tell me how I should take care of my car!
-- Incapacity for Love : Hey, you're nothing to me. So you swerve, crash, and burn. Big fucking deal.
-- Need for Stimulation : Heh. That piece made both lanes scatter behind me when it flew off.
-- Callousness/Lack of Empathy : Oh I am so sorry the ice smashed your windshield. That's why I didn't stop. Hell, I didn't even look back.
-- Poor Behavioral Controls/Impulsive Nature : But I *must* leave now. I don't have time to clear the car.
-- Early Behavior Problems/Juvenile Delinquency
-- Irresponsibility/Unreliability : Like I said, I didn't even look back.
-- Promiscuous Sexual Behavior/Infidelity
-- Lack of Realistic Life Plan/Parasitic Lifestyle : You want my car clean? You going to clean it for me?
-- Criminal or Entrepreneurial Versatility : This is the best. See, in January the PA legislature made driving without clearing snow of your car illegal. So. Don't clear the car, you're a criminal. Now they just need to enforce it. 187 cars in 30 something miles, only ones I could clearly see without taking my eyes off the road, and only counting ones on the road and in use - parked cars buried under dozens of snowflakes not counted; ones with tiny little bits not counted even if I noticed them.
Not really a surprise at the lack of enforcement. The state authorities seem to have some difficulty with roads in general, leaving hundreds stranded on one stretch of road for hours and hours, and failing to properly handle snow removal on many/most of the others. They're just interstate highways, it's not like they get a lot of traffic, or are major roadways or anything. And still the state folks say: "We did an excellent job." Quite the FEMA school of disaster management, nice to see them taking their cues from a federal authority. Also quite the Gov school of disaster manufacture, as a little freaking plowing might actually have kept the roads clear in the first place. Or closing the roads in the first place. "The thing that made this stand out was the ice." As if the northeast has never seen ice. Sleet in or around snow hasn't happened since the woolly mammoths were the ones maintaining the right of way, right? Or are they so stupid that they forget that this kind of thing happens. Every. Year. And they just have better things to spend their money on. Like raising their salaries.
Pure incompetence.
Reporting on it has been great too. Hundreds stuck for, what, 20 hours or more? And it took nearly that long before they made a decision to close the road. And other folks stuck a half hour north by northwest from me, with restaurants running out of food, and stranded travellers sleeping on mats in hotel conference rooms. I didn't hear about the former until it was nearly over, I didn't hear about the latter until![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
yuki_onna reported being unable to reach NYC/Boston appointments because she was stuck. One. Frickin'. Exit. Away.
And, althoughyuki_onna had a legitimate business reason to be on the road - as did all the truckers stuck on I78 - the pissed off people interviewed about the I78 incident were: bringing a carload of kids to visit family; trying to get from here to there while the airports were closed due to weather; and going to visit their girlfriend in NJ - and that guy works for the Dept of Homeland Security, so you can feel safe and secure that they, at least, have their heads screwed. Oh, I meant to say "on right" with that. Maybe.
First off, we'll start with some of the drivers. On the ride home tonight, that would be 187 individuals. Sociopaths. Terrorists. Attempted Murderers. Lazy-ass motherfuckers.
They can take time to talk on their cellphone instead of doing better things, like coordinating the left blinker with the right turn, but they can't take time to clear the inch to two inches of ice - sometimes in chunks - off their car. Oh, some think roof rack-van-pickup-SUV grants them a special pass, and it does. It makes them even more dangerous than the lazy-ass sociopaths in the smaller cars. Newsflash, PSA, and so forth: if you can't clear the snow off your vehicle, put the key on a hook in the cupboard and don't touch it until everything melts on its own. Sit on the couch, click channels. If you're going to be lazy, might as well go all-out couch potato. And that's why I say sociopath.
Let's review - and not all of these apply, but many do (care of http://www.hss.caltech.edu/~mcafee/Bin/sb.html):
-- Glibness and Superficial Charm
-- Manipulative and Conning : What, you think you could do a better job?
-- Grandiose Sense of Self : Hey, I'm more important than you!
-- Pathological Lying : I cleared it as best as I could.
-- Lack of Remorse, Shame or Guilt : So, the ice smashed your windshield. So your family member(s) were hurt. Or died. I'm still not going to clear my damn car.
-- Shallow Emotions : How dare you tell me how I should take care of my car!
-- Incapacity for Love : Hey, you're nothing to me. So you swerve, crash, and burn. Big fucking deal.
-- Need for Stimulation : Heh. That piece made both lanes scatter behind me when it flew off.
-- Callousness/Lack of Empathy : Oh I am so sorry the ice smashed your windshield. That's why I didn't stop. Hell, I didn't even look back.
-- Poor Behavioral Controls/Impulsive Nature : But I *must* leave now. I don't have time to clear the car.
-- Early Behavior Problems/Juvenile Delinquency
-- Irresponsibility/Unreliability : Like I said, I didn't even look back.
-- Promiscuous Sexual Behavior/Infidelity
-- Lack of Realistic Life Plan/Parasitic Lifestyle : You want my car clean? You going to clean it for me?
-- Criminal or Entrepreneurial Versatility : This is the best. See, in January the PA legislature made driving without clearing snow of your car illegal. So. Don't clear the car, you're a criminal. Now they just need to enforce it. 187 cars in 30 something miles, only ones I could clearly see without taking my eyes off the road, and only counting ones on the road and in use - parked cars buried under dozens of snowflakes not counted; ones with tiny little bits not counted even if I noticed them.
Not really a surprise at the lack of enforcement. The state authorities seem to have some difficulty with roads in general, leaving hundreds stranded on one stretch of road for hours and hours, and failing to properly handle snow removal on many/most of the others. They're just interstate highways, it's not like they get a lot of traffic, or are major roadways or anything. And still the state folks say: "We did an excellent job." Quite the FEMA school of disaster management, nice to see them taking their cues from a federal authority. Also quite the Gov school of disaster manufacture, as a little freaking plowing might actually have kept the roads clear in the first place. Or closing the roads in the first place. "The thing that made this stand out was the ice." As if the northeast has never seen ice. Sleet in or around snow hasn't happened since the woolly mammoths were the ones maintaining the right of way, right? Or are they so stupid that they forget that this kind of thing happens. Every. Year. And they just have better things to spend their money on. Like raising their salaries.
Pure incompetence.
Reporting on it has been great too. Hundreds stuck for, what, 20 hours or more? And it took nearly that long before they made a decision to close the road. And other folks stuck a half hour north by northwest from me, with restaurants running out of food, and stranded travellers sleeping on mats in hotel conference rooms. I didn't hear about the former until it was nearly over, I didn't hear about the latter until
yuki_onna reported being unable to reach NYC/Boston appointments because she was stuck. One. Frickin'. Exit. Away.And, although
yuki_onna had a legitimate business reason to be on the road - as did all the truckers stuck on I78 - the pissed off people interviewed about the I78 incident were: bringing a carload of kids to visit family; trying to get from here to there while the airports were closed due to weather; and going to visit their girlfriend in NJ - and that guy works for the Dept of Homeland Security, so you can feel safe and secure that they, at least, have their heads screwed. Oh, I meant to say "on right" with that. Maybe.Semi-Random Updatia
Dec. 21st, 2006 08:13 pmBeware the Ides of March. And 30' box trucks that scrape against Jersey barriers, drive over yellow line, white line, yellow line, change lane no signal, drift left, drift right, hey!
I actually exist. My car is silver, it is supposed to be visible. Do not shift lanes to the right while I'm there, Mr. Old Guy with Entire Clan in Car. If I hadn't stopped, I would have your license number and insurance information written down, and would be filling out police reports, which is not fun.
On a completely different subject, I actually exist. My car is silver. You were stuck in a left turn only lane a half a mile from the light and I was travelling at 55 MPH straight, almost, but not quite, within spitting distance of the right turn only lane which didn't exist when you cut right, forcing me to powerslide down the highway to avoid parking my engine somewhere between your trunk and front seat. I'm sure the whole collapsing car trick would have totalled both of our cars, and, quite possibly, your sorry ass. And I'd likely have a police report to fill out.
And now for something completely different. Speaking of ass, I have an incredibly cute one. Two days in a row, I've had a Personal Fan Club member decide they couldn't be parted from me. The guy today kept looking pissed off when he passed me (once we made it to four lane roads,) so apparently I may look somewhat feminine from the posterior view. The blonde the day before loved me so much that she stayed even closer - she was actually closer than most normal human beans get when they're stopped at red lights. She maintained this lack of distance even when I slowed in the passing zone, with no other traffic in sight. Given that last factor, I actually rolled to a stop. And still, she stayed glued to me. I am hot.
I suppose, if I drove a Lamborghini or a Ferrari or some other slinky Italian number, or maybe even some ugly pseudo-nice car (which covers most of everything else over the $50,000 price tag,) I could understand, but this is a Contour. Nothing sexy about it.
On a similar note, having nothing to do with any of the previous junk, much work has happened at the house these past two days. The project post has been updated and progressified to contain the latest and greatest facts. Our water is now soft and squishy, my hair no longer feels like a brillo pad, the crud in the shower feels like it might actually decide to come off if cleaned, and I have hope that the rest of the plumbing is happy with this nice, friendly H20 running through its veins. The basement already smells better, which is a marked improvement considering all the PVC pipe and sealant (think: airplane glue) used down there - in fact, it's barely noticeable today, despite more pipes going in today than yesterday. So, the dehumidifier works.
The radon fan is in a holding pattern with Fed Ex, which seems to have trouble getting clearance to land, something about a big fat guy in a red suit. Hopefully, that will be in tomorrow and Dave will finish up.
The holiday lunch at work went great - lots of compliments on the ribs, and a few requests for the top secret recipe (both of which were responded to with links to the entry detailing said top secret recipe for the whole entire world, or whoever happened upon it.)
Tomorrow: half day, and last day of the year for me at work - =)
I actually exist. My car is silver, it is supposed to be visible. Do not shift lanes to the right while I'm there, Mr. Old Guy with Entire Clan in Car. If I hadn't stopped, I would have your license number and insurance information written down, and would be filling out police reports, which is not fun.
On a completely different subject, I actually exist. My car is silver. You were stuck in a left turn only lane a half a mile from the light and I was travelling at 55 MPH straight, almost, but not quite, within spitting distance of the right turn only lane which didn't exist when you cut right, forcing me to powerslide down the highway to avoid parking my engine somewhere between your trunk and front seat. I'm sure the whole collapsing car trick would have totalled both of our cars, and, quite possibly, your sorry ass. And I'd likely have a police report to fill out.
And now for something completely different. Speaking of ass, I have an incredibly cute one. Two days in a row, I've had a Personal Fan Club member decide they couldn't be parted from me. The guy today kept looking pissed off when he passed me (once we made it to four lane roads,) so apparently I may look somewhat feminine from the posterior view. The blonde the day before loved me so much that she stayed even closer - she was actually closer than most normal human beans get when they're stopped at red lights. She maintained this lack of distance even when I slowed in the passing zone, with no other traffic in sight. Given that last factor, I actually rolled to a stop. And still, she stayed glued to me. I am hot.
I suppose, if I drove a Lamborghini or a Ferrari or some other slinky Italian number, or maybe even some ugly pseudo-nice car (which covers most of everything else over the $50,000 price tag,) I could understand, but this is a Contour. Nothing sexy about it.
On a similar note, having nothing to do with any of the previous junk, much work has happened at the house these past two days. The project post has been updated and progressified to contain the latest and greatest facts. Our water is now soft and squishy, my hair no longer feels like a brillo pad, the crud in the shower feels like it might actually decide to come off if cleaned, and I have hope that the rest of the plumbing is happy with this nice, friendly H20 running through its veins. The basement already smells better, which is a marked improvement considering all the PVC pipe and sealant (think: airplane glue) used down there - in fact, it's barely noticeable today, despite more pipes going in today than yesterday. So, the dehumidifier works.
The radon fan is in a holding pattern with Fed Ex, which seems to have trouble getting clearance to land, something about a big fat guy in a red suit. Hopefully, that will be in tomorrow and Dave will finish up.
The holiday lunch at work went great - lots of compliments on the ribs, and a few requests for the top secret recipe (both of which were responded to with links to the entry detailing said top secret recipe for the whole entire world, or whoever happened upon it.)
Tomorrow: half day, and last day of the year for me at work - =)
Fairyland in the Dark
Nov. 16th, 2006 06:53 pmI am okay - the Contour, on the other hand, she has flatlined, and is abandoned at a local store.
I was a short distance from work - about 30 miles from her final resting place - and lashed by a horizontal downpour. Suspicion #1 is that Things Got Wet. The battery light came on. And stayed on. Stopped for gas (of course. Cars never die on anything less. It's like leaving the room when you're an extra in a slasher flick. Fill the tank, the car dies. Simple.) The car started right up. Still with the battery light, especially mocking me after the Jeep without red lenses blinded me with brake and turn signal.
The speed limit on one stretch - usually exceeding 50 miles an hour - was about 40 at peak. Generally 30. Low visibility. And... I think the lights are getting dimmer.
Along a divided highway - speed limit 55, normally 65, often with some traffic passing quickly even at that - the speed was even further reduced. Several pickup trucks - four wheel drive monster trucks - kept it to 25. The lights are definitely reduced. All non-essential electrical stuff off. Like the defroster keeping the window clear.
Headlights dimming, I think. Other cars seem to look at me funny. I try to keep moving, hoping something from the alternator gets back to the power supply, baring that, hoping that I get home quicker before becoming stranded in a constantly battering rainfall.
I reach the junction of two highways and all doubt is gone - the lights are fading fast. Quickly going up over the hill, calling for backup - only to have Deb's cell drop the call. Downhill, some street lighting - things are fading but working.
Turn onto the side street, okay, still feels like enough juice to make it home. Only five miles away now.
Into the fields - darkness. The car in front pulls away and I realize for the first time that I no longer have headlights. Or interior lights. And the wipers. Are. Slowing. Dow
Complete darkness, nobody behind me. Mooching light off the opposing traffic who probably don't even know I'm there. Rolling to a stop, only worries as I stall all the way across Fairyland is that someone else might be in the same situation, as there is no light anywhere. Little to no power.
I roll through the intersection over the course of maybe three or four hours. At least it feels that way. The engine still reacts, a bit, and accelerates. Barely.
I pull into Millers. And she is done.
I was a short distance from work - about 30 miles from her final resting place - and lashed by a horizontal downpour. Suspicion #1 is that Things Got Wet. The battery light came on. And stayed on. Stopped for gas (of course. Cars never die on anything less. It's like leaving the room when you're an extra in a slasher flick. Fill the tank, the car dies. Simple.) The car started right up. Still with the battery light, especially mocking me after the Jeep without red lenses blinded me with brake and turn signal.
The speed limit on one stretch - usually exceeding 50 miles an hour - was about 40 at peak. Generally 30. Low visibility. And... I think the lights are getting dimmer.
Along a divided highway - speed limit 55, normally 65, often with some traffic passing quickly even at that - the speed was even further reduced. Several pickup trucks - four wheel drive monster trucks - kept it to 25. The lights are definitely reduced. All non-essential electrical stuff off. Like the defroster keeping the window clear.
Headlights dimming, I think. Other cars seem to look at me funny. I try to keep moving, hoping something from the alternator gets back to the power supply, baring that, hoping that I get home quicker before becoming stranded in a constantly battering rainfall.
I reach the junction of two highways and all doubt is gone - the lights are fading fast. Quickly going up over the hill, calling for backup - only to have Deb's cell drop the call. Downhill, some street lighting - things are fading but working.
Turn onto the side street, okay, still feels like enough juice to make it home. Only five miles away now.
Into the fields - darkness. The car in front pulls away and I realize for the first time that I no longer have headlights. Or interior lights. And the wipers. Are. Slowing. Dow
Complete darkness, nobody behind me. Mooching light off the opposing traffic who probably don't even know I'm there. Rolling to a stop, only worries as I stall all the way across Fairyland is that someone else might be in the same situation, as there is no light anywhere. Little to no power.
I roll through the intersection over the course of maybe three or four hours. At least it feels that way. The engine still reacts, a bit, and accelerates. Barely.
I pull into Millers. And she is done.
Musical Notes, Miles Away, and Buzz
Nov. 10th, 2006 09:39 amI have Justin's transcription of Davy Jones Theme written out, I just have to send it off to tewok. I brought it into work, because I wasn't taking the time to write up things in advance at home; work is busy, though, so I haven't had a chance to type it in. Soon.
I'm remembering it now, because I'm writing this at home, Thursday night. And, of course, I'm remembering it because the paper is thirtysomething miles away.
Oy.
Those thirty miles are starting to take a toll on the Contour. It's down from 400 miles to a full tank to 300 miles, and it has been through the past three oil changes. Usually the oil change would rejuvenate it's poor ol' carcass, but something is Wrong, and the bozos I've been taking it to can't seem to fix it. This is our third garage since we've been here, and I'm just not convinced that anyone in this part of the state is capable of simple automotive repair. Then again, the Taurus seemed to have some repeat problems back in Watertown, so maybe it's Ford, or cars in general. If I had more spare time, I'd get an older car that I could maintain. Probably be able to tune it to get better mileage than these idiots have been doing.
Back to a musical notation, as it were. Justin and I had a jam session earlier. Started off as a demonstration to Brandon of a variety of instruments.
He's been requesting for me to play the guitar, or, more accurately, for me to play the acoustic, which I let him strum and pluck and tap. We moved from there to my dad's flute from his days in the high school marching band - he gave it to me back in 1993, and I reached the virtuoso level where I could play a pretty weak rendition of Pop goes the Weasel, however I'm nowhere near that good now. That, and I keep overblowing and hitting the octave - which is allegedly harder - five or six notes in.
After the flute, came the recorder - an alto, I believe - and I can play that nearly as well as the flute, which is to say, nearly well enough to kill at close range and injure everyone within 100 yards. Perhaps more accurately, it would be like the hit song I wrote with Rachel the other day in the car - in that case, if people heard me singing the song, they'd hit me.
I actually managed to play the chanter nearly as well, although that takes a helluvalotta lung, and I think two of the reeds three reeds (haven't tried the third, it's in a container, maybe unused?) are worse for the wear. They tend to close up easily, and look like they've been in a wind tunnel. The sound was clear - but much more quiet than I was expecting. I'll have to work on the fingering, as it's not a straight peelback from having all the holes covered. But, hey, I was able to play a quick little melody before I passed out from lack of wind... =)
Justin joined us and gave all the wind instruments a go and then he went and brought in his trumpet. Been a while since he's played, so it took a bit to get a decent note. For the first time in all my attempts over the years, I was able to get a half-way decent note out of it - my lips are still buzzed. Brandon played a bit on the recorder, surprising himself everytime he stopped humming and managed to actually sound a note.
After Mr. B headed downstairs for some juice, we pulled out the dulcimer - alas, the hammers are likely packed with my desk stuff, and, as I don't have a desk anymore, they're still in a box somewhere. That is one instrument that sounds beautiful just being in the room with another music instrument playing. The dulcimer accompanied Justin, echoing harmoniously when he would stop playing, as he worked through Davy Jones and the Kraken themes. I tried to find something to hammer it with, and a few things almost worked, but they were single items and none of them could really get the flippityness of the real thing (flippityness is critical to play fast, and to get that gen-u-wine hammered dulcimer sound.) As Brandon gets a little older, or if I rearrange the bedroom, I should be able to set it back up on the stand my dad built for it, and then it's much more accessible for playing.
I'm thinking of doing an acoustic music jam for one of the cookouts next year - would be great if we could gettewok and his wife there; noone234 plays the sax; any other musicians out there - talent welcome, enthusiasm required!
tewok. I brought it into work, because I wasn't taking the time to write up things in advance at home; work is busy, though, so I haven't had a chance to type it in. Soon.I'm remembering it now, because I'm writing this at home, Thursday night. And, of course, I'm remembering it because the paper is thirtysomething miles away.
Oy.
Those thirty miles are starting to take a toll on the Contour. It's down from 400 miles to a full tank to 300 miles, and it has been through the past three oil changes. Usually the oil change would rejuvenate it's poor ol' carcass, but something is Wrong, and the bozos I've been taking it to can't seem to fix it. This is our third garage since we've been here, and I'm just not convinced that anyone in this part of the state is capable of simple automotive repair. Then again, the Taurus seemed to have some repeat problems back in Watertown, so maybe it's Ford, or cars in general. If I had more spare time, I'd get an older car that I could maintain. Probably be able to tune it to get better mileage than these idiots have been doing.
Back to a musical notation, as it were. Justin and I had a jam session earlier. Started off as a demonstration to Brandon of a variety of instruments.
He's been requesting for me to play the guitar, or, more accurately, for me to play the acoustic, which I let him strum and pluck and tap. We moved from there to my dad's flute from his days in the high school marching band - he gave it to me back in 1993, and I reached the virtuoso level where I could play a pretty weak rendition of Pop goes the Weasel, however I'm nowhere near that good now. That, and I keep overblowing and hitting the octave - which is allegedly harder - five or six notes in.
After the flute, came the recorder - an alto, I believe - and I can play that nearly as well as the flute, which is to say, nearly well enough to kill at close range and injure everyone within 100 yards. Perhaps more accurately, it would be like the hit song I wrote with Rachel the other day in the car - in that case, if people heard me singing the song, they'd hit me.
I actually managed to play the chanter nearly as well, although that takes a helluvalotta lung, and I think two of the reeds three reeds (haven't tried the third, it's in a container, maybe unused?) are worse for the wear. They tend to close up easily, and look like they've been in a wind tunnel. The sound was clear - but much more quiet than I was expecting. I'll have to work on the fingering, as it's not a straight peelback from having all the holes covered. But, hey, I was able to play a quick little melody before I passed out from lack of wind... =)
Justin joined us and gave all the wind instruments a go and then he went and brought in his trumpet. Been a while since he's played, so it took a bit to get a decent note. For the first time in all my attempts over the years, I was able to get a half-way decent note out of it - my lips are still buzzed. Brandon played a bit on the recorder, surprising himself everytime he stopped humming and managed to actually sound a note.
After Mr. B headed downstairs for some juice, we pulled out the dulcimer - alas, the hammers are likely packed with my desk stuff, and, as I don't have a desk anymore, they're still in a box somewhere. That is one instrument that sounds beautiful just being in the room with another music instrument playing. The dulcimer accompanied Justin, echoing harmoniously when he would stop playing, as he worked through Davy Jones and the Kraken themes. I tried to find something to hammer it with, and a few things almost worked, but they were single items and none of them could really get the flippityness of the real thing (flippityness is critical to play fast, and to get that gen-u-wine hammered dulcimer sound.) As Brandon gets a little older, or if I rearrange the bedroom, I should be able to set it back up on the stand my dad built for it, and then it's much more accessible for playing.
I'm thinking of doing an acoustic music jam for one of the cookouts next year - would be great if we could get
tewok and his wife there; noone234 plays the sax; any other musicians out there - talent welcome, enthusiasm required!Buck Buck No. 1
Oct. 16th, 2006 07:12 amEver wonder how to get rid of those pesky tailgaters? No, I don't mean the kind that sit around and eat chili and drink beer because the only way they can sit through a football game is if their trashed out of their gourd and have a, erm, windfall of humor to fall back on. I mean the kind that have magnets in their bumpers. The kind that isn't intelligent enough to understand the whole one-car-length-for-every-ten-miles-an-hour safety margin. The kind that are probably very well educated with a well-paying job, so they can afford that shiny Lexus or BMW or Mercedes or Yugo other generally expensive automobile. Hey, look, ::crunch:: it's disposable... nyuk nyuk nyuk.
Anywho.
This guy has been wanting to go faster than me ever since he tried to pass on the left and ran into slower traffic and had to get in a couple of cars behind me. Lucky for me, those cars later went other places, and I had this guy - or girl, it was too dark to see - stuck to me like glue. Finally, when I turned off on Indian Trail Head Creek Road Thingamajig, I thought I'd get rid of him. No such luck.
Now, I've mentioned Creek Road Indian Head Nickel Trail Wotsit before - it's a curvy bit of road, where tailgaters are the native predators. Sometimes, even predators have to watch out, and there's a spot a short way down where the Police live. The usually appear in herds, and often have flashing lights and other such mating signals. Or feeding signals, I confuse those two sometimes.
So, tailgater with his - or her - nice, overly bright, probably expensive headlights blinding me (although, I do have to say, I didn't notice them all the time, because he was usually too close...) was right behind me, and I think to myself: "Myself, this is a dark and winding road, with Trail Road Indian Creek Head Watery Whatchamacallit running rapidly alongside, and with Head Indian Chief Road Creek Park all around with lots of wooded bits, and this guy is so close his fan keeps flipping into my skates in the trunk, and now, what would happen, if - say - a deer was to leapeth out of the woods, after sipping at the cool, frothing waters, and run in front of me..."
I was going to counter-argue with myself that nothing like that ever happens unless you absolutely don't need it to, when suddenly I saw something in the road, along the right side. I swerved a wee little bit, because it was just a wee bag, but you never know what is in it.
Now, the guy - or girl - behind me saw what my taillights looked like all of a sudden, but do you think they got the idea?
I'm not really sure, because that's when my headlights highlighted a buck with so many points that by the time I counted them he would be on his second or third set of antlers. He was standing just beyond where the bag had been.
I'm pretty sure I heard him text his buddy with something like OMGWTFBBQ!!!111 and then he whirled - now, the sensible deer would see a cartrain of about 5 or 6 units zooming towards him (I was still angling back towards the right from the paper-bag swerve) at ten miles over the speed limit, and would decide he needed another drink, and would slip quietly over the guardrail and go back down to the stream; nope, not this guy - he whirled towards me, as if he was going to use all those many, many points and rake the rear flank of my car.
Being the sensible lad that he was, he proceeded to then dart behind me.
Now, I swerved a bit once more, so that might account for the rakeless fender panel. My bumper-buddy however, is out one (very likely) expensive headlight.
It was too dark to see if any further damage was done.
Did the tailgater learn his lesson? Well, he - or she - didn't really slow down, but they did keep a proper distance.
Anywho.
This guy has been wanting to go faster than me ever since he tried to pass on the left and ran into slower traffic and had to get in a couple of cars behind me. Lucky for me, those cars later went other places, and I had this guy - or girl, it was too dark to see - stuck to me like glue. Finally, when I turned off on Indian Trail Head Creek Road Thingamajig, I thought I'd get rid of him. No such luck.
Now, I've mentioned Creek Road Indian Head Nickel Trail Wotsit before - it's a curvy bit of road, where tailgaters are the native predators. Sometimes, even predators have to watch out, and there's a spot a short way down where the Police live. The usually appear in herds, and often have flashing lights and other such mating signals. Or feeding signals, I confuse those two sometimes.
So, tailgater with his - or her - nice, overly bright, probably expensive headlights blinding me (although, I do have to say, I didn't notice them all the time, because he was usually too close...) was right behind me, and I think to myself: "Myself, this is a dark and winding road, with Trail Road Indian Creek Head Watery Whatchamacallit running rapidly alongside, and with Head Indian Chief Road Creek Park all around with lots of wooded bits, and this guy is so close his fan keeps flipping into my skates in the trunk, and now, what would happen, if - say - a deer was to leapeth out of the woods, after sipping at the cool, frothing waters, and run in front of me..."
I was going to counter-argue with myself that nothing like that ever happens unless you absolutely don't need it to, when suddenly I saw something in the road, along the right side. I swerved a wee little bit, because it was just a wee bag, but you never know what is in it.
Now, the guy - or girl - behind me saw what my taillights looked like all of a sudden, but do you think they got the idea?
I'm not really sure, because that's when my headlights highlighted a buck with so many points that by the time I counted them he would be on his second or third set of antlers. He was standing just beyond where the bag had been.
I'm pretty sure I heard him text his buddy with something like OMGWTFBBQ!!!111 and then he whirled - now, the sensible deer would see a cartrain of about 5 or 6 units zooming towards him (I was still angling back towards the right from the paper-bag swerve) at ten miles over the speed limit, and would decide he needed another drink, and would slip quietly over the guardrail and go back down to the stream; nope, not this guy - he whirled towards me, as if he was going to use all those many, many points and rake the rear flank of my car.
Being the sensible lad that he was, he proceeded to then dart behind me.
Now, I swerved a bit once more, so that might account for the rakeless fender panel. My bumper-buddy however, is out one (very likely) expensive headlight.
It was too dark to see if any further damage was done.
Did the tailgater learn his lesson? Well, he - or she - didn't really slow down, but they did keep a proper distance.
View from the Driver's Seat
Oct. 5th, 2006 07:41 amEveryone in the Lehigh Valley area should stop by the Brew House on 248 in Walnutport and buy a drink or two. As suppliers of my Thursday morning chai, I can vouch for them, and Deb has said their coffee is good and reasonably priced.
Their other location - which they've been running for two years and just bought out entirely in August - was in Country Junction (Google News link).
Although insurance will help with some of their loss, I'm willing to bet it won't help make up for everything, particularly lost income, so any extra boost they can get would be a Good Thing.
~ ~ ~
They are disassembling a silo/warehouse along the route in - had a couple of cranes there yesterday. The place has at least one tree poking up out of the roof. Today, large sections of the silo were sliced and diced and scattered around the parking lot. One large piece, with about 10' of cylinder and maybe a 30-40' diameter, sat on its cone top, and looked like it had rolled there, right along the road's edge.
Looked like nothing more than a kid's set of blocks or some other construction toy, played with, and then left scattered instead of being put neatly away.
~ ~ ~
Driving in early - or driving home last night in the rain-influenced darkness - I've noticed that there are more and more people who don't understand high-beam etiquette. The Jeep this morning subtly revealed that it's driver was an ignorant, self-centered moron as it maintained its high-beams despite oncoming traffic. I, for one, really prefer being able to see the road, especially when its got a few twists and turns and hills and valleys and large hooved rodents wandering across.
A simple trick that works in most places, even on the windiest forestiest roads, is to watch the overhead wires - you'll see the headlights there well before the vehicle itself is in sight. Headlights can be bad enough if they're modern halogen or that damnable blue crap or just at the properly annoying angle with respect to hills and so forth, but kicking off the high beams before blinding an oncoming driver just may keep said blinded driver from driving into you as they blink their eyes and try to regain sight.
On the opposite end of headlight faux pas, when it's dark - even if it's the middle of the day - use the headlights. If the rain comes down, your windshield wipers are on, or a fog rolls in, turn on your lights. Otherwise you don't exist, and hopefully, whoever accidentally plows into you or runs you over, does so in a far larger and heavier vehicle, so they win. No offense, just natural selection in action. Ran into this on the drive back from Massachusetts last weekend - all three states travelled in have, to the best of my knowledge, a law that requires headlights to be used when the windshield wipers are on. Almost, literally, ran into this, as I changed lanes nearly on top of some idiot who I didn't see because of fog or rain.
Their other location - which they've been running for two years and just bought out entirely in August - was in Country Junction (Google News link).
Although insurance will help with some of their loss, I'm willing to bet it won't help make up for everything, particularly lost income, so any extra boost they can get would be a Good Thing.
~ ~ ~
They are disassembling a silo/warehouse along the route in - had a couple of cranes there yesterday. The place has at least one tree poking up out of the roof. Today, large sections of the silo were sliced and diced and scattered around the parking lot. One large piece, with about 10' of cylinder and maybe a 30-40' diameter, sat on its cone top, and looked like it had rolled there, right along the road's edge.
Looked like nothing more than a kid's set of blocks or some other construction toy, played with, and then left scattered instead of being put neatly away.
~ ~ ~
Driving in early - or driving home last night in the rain-influenced darkness - I've noticed that there are more and more people who don't understand high-beam etiquette. The Jeep this morning subtly revealed that it's driver was an ignorant, self-centered moron as it maintained its high-beams despite oncoming traffic. I, for one, really prefer being able to see the road, especially when its got a few twists and turns and hills and valleys and large hooved rodents wandering across.
A simple trick that works in most places, even on the windiest forestiest roads, is to watch the overhead wires - you'll see the headlights there well before the vehicle itself is in sight. Headlights can be bad enough if they're modern halogen or that damnable blue crap or just at the properly annoying angle with respect to hills and so forth, but kicking off the high beams before blinding an oncoming driver just may keep said blinded driver from driving into you as they blink their eyes and try to regain sight.
On the opposite end of headlight faux pas, when it's dark - even if it's the middle of the day - use the headlights. If the rain comes down, your windshield wipers are on, or a fog rolls in, turn on your lights. Otherwise you don't exist, and hopefully, whoever accidentally plows into you or runs you over, does so in a far larger and heavier vehicle, so they win. No offense, just natural selection in action. Ran into this on the drive back from Massachusetts last weekend - all three states travelled in have, to the best of my knowledge, a law that requires headlights to be used when the windshield wipers are on. Almost, literally, ran into this, as I changed lanes nearly on top of some idiot who I didn't see because of fog or rain.
View from the Driver's Seat
Jul. 26th, 2006 05:26 pmIt's a commonly known scientific fact that when you're running late, slower traffic will appear automagically from side streets, pulling out immediately in front of you.
While I fully agree with the common claim that, to put it eloquently, "Helmet Laws Suck," I do however, think it is entirely inappropriate, insane, and insulting to ride a Harley whilst wearing flip-flops.
Now, just for the record, my personal choice would be to wear a helmet, but that's just me - I don't think it should be a law, anymore than something else that has little to no effect on society at large, such as wearing a seatbelt, choosing what to do with your own reproductive organs or their issue, marrying whoever you might want regardless of their gender, or forcing you to eat at Burger King when you really like McDonalds. Just think about how silly it would be to make everyone eat superior gourmet food, when they'd rather skimp and eat garbage at Mickey D's. Decisions like that belong in the hands of those who have to deal with the heart burn. But flip-flops on a Harley - that's just wrong.
On the serious side of the record - the B-serious side, of course - I've heard plenty of stories where injuries in a motorcycle accident were not fatal because of a helmet - but the damage was so severe, that many feel those folks would be in a better place if they weren't reduced to living pieces of meat with the stuff inside the helmet changed into guacamole. That's why at least some folks choose not to wear a helmet - chances are, at the speeds they'd be utilizing the safety features, they'd be in terrible shape. Some would rather end it quickly and that should be their choice.
During my brother's accident almost two years ago, no head injuries were involved, so the helmet he wasn't wearing didn't enter the equation. However, his legs, arms, and feet would have been in much worse shape if he had not been wearing a leather jacket, jeans, and heavy boots. He's been known to change from shorts and t-shirt into heavier clothes just to ride - even in the heat of summer.
I still can not believe the idiot in front of me - pulled out slowly, naturally - was wearing shorts and flip flops.
While I fully agree with the common claim that, to put it eloquently, "Helmet Laws Suck," I do however, think it is entirely inappropriate, insane, and insulting to ride a Harley whilst wearing flip-flops.
Now, just for the record, my personal choice would be to wear a helmet, but that's just me - I don't think it should be a law, anymore than something else that has little to no effect on society at large, such as wearing a seatbelt, choosing what to do with your own reproductive organs or their issue, marrying whoever you might want regardless of their gender, or forcing you to eat at Burger King when you really like McDonalds. Just think about how silly it would be to make everyone eat superior gourmet food, when they'd rather skimp and eat garbage at Mickey D's. Decisions like that belong in the hands of those who have to deal with the heart burn. But flip-flops on a Harley - that's just wrong.
On the serious side of the record - the B-serious side, of course - I've heard plenty of stories where injuries in a motorcycle accident were not fatal because of a helmet - but the damage was so severe, that many feel those folks would be in a better place if they weren't reduced to living pieces of meat with the stuff inside the helmet changed into guacamole. That's why at least some folks choose not to wear a helmet - chances are, at the speeds they'd be utilizing the safety features, they'd be in terrible shape. Some would rather end it quickly and that should be their choice.
During my brother's accident almost two years ago, no head injuries were involved, so the helmet he wasn't wearing didn't enter the equation. However, his legs, arms, and feet would have been in much worse shape if he had not been wearing a leather jacket, jeans, and heavy boots. He's been known to change from shorts and t-shirt into heavier clothes just to ride - even in the heat of summer.
I still can not believe the idiot in front of me - pulled out slowly, naturally - was wearing shorts and flip flops.
There's something that happens when you see someone lying in the road, blood and blankets blending with the hot asphalt.
Some stop to help, most stop to stare.
A motorcycle fallen, a biker and his passenger spread across the road. Ambulances coming, taking the long way around.
A traffic snarl for an hour.
Two lives hanging in the balance.
Critical.
Pointing, looking.
Most, at least, not smiling.
Entertainment takes many forms for some people.
There is no need for me to help - troopers are jumping over the Jersey barrier. A fire truck arrives. Spectators are in the way, as if they weren't before.
I drive on, still not knowing the story.
Just blood and blankets, and a life lying on the road.
The rest I find out later, after the fact, despite being only a dozen or so cars removed from the incident.
Two lives, on the road.
Critical.
No need to stop and stare, just to hope they pull through.
Some stop to help, most stop to stare.
A motorcycle fallen, a biker and his passenger spread across the road. Ambulances coming, taking the long way around.
A traffic snarl for an hour.
Two lives hanging in the balance.
Critical.
Pointing, looking.
Most, at least, not smiling.
Entertainment takes many forms for some people.
There is no need for me to help - troopers are jumping over the Jersey barrier. A fire truck arrives. Spectators are in the way, as if they weren't before.
I drive on, still not knowing the story.
Just blood and blankets, and a life lying on the road.
The rest I find out later, after the fact, despite being only a dozen or so cars removed from the incident.
Two lives, on the road.
Critical.
No need to stop and stare, just to hope they pull through.
View from the Driver's Seat
May. 19th, 2006 01:03 pmSaw a billboard asking if I knew who really felt the impact of me driving without my seatbelt, and stuck on the crumpled steering wheel was a picture of a rather young, rather photogenic couple.
Now, I'm not sure why that couple would be concerned, but I have to say their concern is needless because my belt was on. Then I got to thinking, maybe that sign was aimed at the newly licensed youth, and that couple was allegedly their mom & dad.
From there, I remembered Ozzy's anti-drinking tune 'Suicide Solution' and how it led to a few court dates back in the eighties for allegedly causing kids to kill themselves, and I'm thinking to myself: this is great; we've moved on from blaming English rockstars like Ozzy or Judas Priest for the death of young and stupid Americans, and now we'll be able to blame billboards and ad councils and government agencies. After all, if Ozzy's taken to task for advising that drinking yourself to an early grave is stupid, a billboard that just asks you to think about who will cry after you've offed yourself by crashing while unbelted has to be even more at fault.
Now, I'm not sure why that couple would be concerned, but I have to say their concern is needless because my belt was on. Then I got to thinking, maybe that sign was aimed at the newly licensed youth, and that couple was allegedly their mom & dad.
From there, I remembered Ozzy's anti-drinking tune 'Suicide Solution' and how it led to a few court dates back in the eighties for allegedly causing kids to kill themselves, and I'm thinking to myself: this is great; we've moved on from blaming English rockstars like Ozzy or Judas Priest for the death of young and stupid Americans, and now we'll be able to blame billboards and ad councils and government agencies. After all, if Ozzy's taken to task for advising that drinking yourself to an early grave is stupid, a billboard that just asks you to think about who will cry after you've offed yourself by crashing while unbelted has to be even more at fault.
View from the Driver's Seat
May. 12th, 2006 11:57 amHow Not to Drive, part one
A Fine Dining Experience
I noticed that the Bethlehem Brew Works has some scenic, trendy sidewalk tables set up. I know I find the subtle aromas of overpriced food much more pleasing when mixed with the exhaust of cars idling at the red light. Five feet from exhaust pipe to mouth, and maybe another five feet to the three story brick wall that helps keep all that carbony goodness nearby so there's some in every mouthful. Why they should charge extra for the ambiance.
How Not to Drive, part two
When there's a line four cars deep going into one of the garage entrances - and another car waiting to come in from the opposite direction - someone (i.e. it should not have to be me, four cars back) should use the *other* garage entrance. I'm wondering, if all those people were in the supermarket, would they all go through the same line, while I went to the other open checkout?
- Do not swerve into a lane before it becomes a legal option to do so
- Do not speed up so as to block the car formerly in front of you as it attempts to make a legal lane change and was not aware you pulled the move you did in item #1
- Do not speed up even more after item #2 just so you can ride the bumper of the car in front of you
- When the exit merges onto another highway, and you still want to go faster, and you now have a lane available to you expressly for the purpose of passing slower traffic, do not continue to ride the bumper of the car you almost kissed in item #3
- When the car in front of you (from items #3 and #4) passes the slower traffic in front of them, do not zip right up to the bumper of that slower traffic and almost kiss them as well. Really, it says something about your character.
- So you had your fill of kissing all the boys, and you pass not only the car in #5 (he was probably your grandfather's age) and the car mentioned in #3-5 (who happens to be a handsome fellow, if I do say so myself,) and you suddenly you realize, like, wow, that's my exit, you really shouldn't cut off the car in #3-5
- Upon cutting off the car as mentioned in #6, do not slow down from highway speed to exit speed until actually on the exit ramp
A Fine Dining Experience
I noticed that the Bethlehem Brew Works has some scenic, trendy sidewalk tables set up. I know I find the subtle aromas of overpriced food much more pleasing when mixed with the exhaust of cars idling at the red light. Five feet from exhaust pipe to mouth, and maybe another five feet to the three story brick wall that helps keep all that carbony goodness nearby so there's some in every mouthful. Why they should charge extra for the ambiance.
How Not to Drive, part two
When there's a line four cars deep going into one of the garage entrances - and another car waiting to come in from the opposite direction - someone (i.e. it should not have to be me, four cars back) should use the *other* garage entrance. I'm wondering, if all those people were in the supermarket, would they all go through the same line, while I went to the other open checkout?
View from the Driver's Seat
Apr. 17th, 2006 09:45 amSo, which side of the road do we drive on in this country?
A bit of set-up first: A bridge, fairly narrow for its length. One lane in each direction, room on the side for a mouse to scurry along, if it's careful and walks a straight line. Anything larger isn't likely to make it across if there is traffic. The bridge peaks in the center. The time was about 8:30pm, so it was rather dark out. Rain is threatening, but not there yet.
Friday night, after poetry - in which a most excellent discussion on religion occurred - I was driving along Race Street, and up onto the bridge over the Lehigh. When I saw the headlights in my lane, I slowed. Then I stopped. The car continued coming towards me as I honked. At the last minute, the driver swerved into his lane. I had the distinct impression that he was ticked off at me for being in the correct lane. I'm not sure if he was drunk, thought it was a one-way in his direction, or both.
Mere moments later, rain now pouring down, I sat at a red light. It turned green, and I proceeded across the intersection. At the other end of the intersection were three lanes - I was in the one with an arrow pointing straight ahead; on my right was a right turn only lane that just opened up, and on my left, was a left turn only lane that continued from the other side of the intersection. The left-turn only lane was occupied, and, in the cross-traffic, a car stopped in their right turn only lane with his signal. As I approached, he took the turn, about twenty feet off my starboard bow. And that would have been fine had he needed to take another right turn, and went from one right turn lane to another. But he didn't. Nearly scraping my bumper, and causing me to once again use horn and brakes, he moved into my lane, and across into the left turn only lane.
Later, I had a chance to test the anti-lock brakes, and narrowly avoided an SUV that stopped suddenly - that, had something untoward happened, would have been my fault of course. Despite the brakes making a very odd noise, and a bit of sliding, there was no impact, and, had there been more chance of one (in other words, closer/faster/stopped quicker) I was already aimed out of the way, and could have kept going. Still and all, it capped off a wonderful evening of driving.
A bit of set-up first: A bridge, fairly narrow for its length. One lane in each direction, room on the side for a mouse to scurry along, if it's careful and walks a straight line. Anything larger isn't likely to make it across if there is traffic. The bridge peaks in the center. The time was about 8:30pm, so it was rather dark out. Rain is threatening, but not there yet.
Friday night, after poetry - in which a most excellent discussion on religion occurred - I was driving along Race Street, and up onto the bridge over the Lehigh. When I saw the headlights in my lane, I slowed. Then I stopped. The car continued coming towards me as I honked. At the last minute, the driver swerved into his lane. I had the distinct impression that he was ticked off at me for being in the correct lane. I'm not sure if he was drunk, thought it was a one-way in his direction, or both.
Mere moments later, rain now pouring down, I sat at a red light. It turned green, and I proceeded across the intersection. At the other end of the intersection were three lanes - I was in the one with an arrow pointing straight ahead; on my right was a right turn only lane that just opened up, and on my left, was a left turn only lane that continued from the other side of the intersection. The left-turn only lane was occupied, and, in the cross-traffic, a car stopped in their right turn only lane with his signal. As I approached, he took the turn, about twenty feet off my starboard bow. And that would have been fine had he needed to take another right turn, and went from one right turn lane to another. But he didn't. Nearly scraping my bumper, and causing me to once again use horn and brakes, he moved into my lane, and across into the left turn only lane.
Later, I had a chance to test the anti-lock brakes, and narrowly avoided an SUV that stopped suddenly - that, had something untoward happened, would have been my fault of course. Despite the brakes making a very odd noise, and a bit of sliding, there was no impact, and, had there been more chance of one (in other words, closer/faster/stopped quicker) I was already aimed out of the way, and could have kept going. Still and all, it capped off a wonderful evening of driving.
View from the Driver's Seat
Apr. 14th, 2006 09:15 amI know I keep harping on the saucer magnolias, but I'm noticing more and more of them - and they are in full flower. If the two little bitsy ones I planted last fall don't make it, they Shall Be Replaced. Probably through Forest Farm, and possibly in the Fall order.
In addition to seeing splatters of pink oil paint (which is the closest I can come to describing the thick, creamy appearances of the saucer magnolia's blooms,) I've really been noticing the maple flowers. Last year, I recall noticing the red maples amongst our oaks, and saying, "Gee, they do have flowers," but this year I'm seeing lots of yellow flowers on the sugar maples that seem so large and obvious, I don't know how I ever missed them before. It's kind of (not) funny how sugar maples are prevalent all up and down my commute, right up until you get to my neighborhood, and all you get are red maples. To be fair, red maples are perfectly good trees, but I'd trade all of mine in for a few good sugar maples, if I could. Some people (such aspatrixa) have more than they need - I remember hearing that they once pulled 20-50 million sugar maple seedlings from their gutters... ah, they should be so lucky! At least last year I had sweet birch in those quantities, that, and the ever-present oaks...
The apples - crab and otherwise - are in bloom, as are the pears (too many of those...) and dogwoods and whatnot. Down here in the tropics, many trees are leafing out, and I noticed catkins draping from the birch.
Some rainfall last night on the way home and this morning on the way in, which should help everything out a bit - it's been far too dry here. The entire state is in a drought warning, and I still hear people complain about rain. Moon doesn't have much rainfall, ditto Mars and a few other places. If we can get all the anti-rain folks and send 'em there, they'd have less to complain about, and the rest of us can do rain dances down here and watch stuff grow. Probably best to send those who want to pave everything off-world as well, let them build their mini-malls there. They'd be able to put up mall after mall, without the added cost and annoyance of having to cut down hundreds of thousands of collective years worth of tree and plant growth first. Much easier for them, much nicer for the rest of us.
But then I'm probably one of the few people who wouldn't complain if I had to trade my car for a horse and the highway for a dirt road (or, even better, a woodland trail...)
That's saying something, because I've only been on a horse once... didn't exactly fall off, so much as fly up and come back down again. My horse decided he didn't like the one in front, so he kicked her, and then, while I was mid-air from that, he decided the one behind him was also an ingrate, so he kicked back at that one, rising up to meet me half way. Yeouch.
In addition to seeing splatters of pink oil paint (which is the closest I can come to describing the thick, creamy appearances of the saucer magnolia's blooms,) I've really been noticing the maple flowers. Last year, I recall noticing the red maples amongst our oaks, and saying, "Gee, they do have flowers," but this year I'm seeing lots of yellow flowers on the sugar maples that seem so large and obvious, I don't know how I ever missed them before. It's kind of (not) funny how sugar maples are prevalent all up and down my commute, right up until you get to my neighborhood, and all you get are red maples. To be fair, red maples are perfectly good trees, but I'd trade all of mine in for a few good sugar maples, if I could. Some people (such as
patrixa) have more than they need - I remember hearing that they once pulled 20-50 The apples - crab and otherwise - are in bloom, as are the pears (too many of those...) and dogwoods and whatnot. Down here in the tropics, many trees are leafing out, and I noticed catkins draping from the birch.
Some rainfall last night on the way home and this morning on the way in, which should help everything out a bit - it's been far too dry here. The entire state is in a drought warning, and I still hear people complain about rain. Moon doesn't have much rainfall, ditto Mars and a few other places. If we can get all the anti-rain folks and send 'em there, they'd have less to complain about, and the rest of us can do rain dances down here and watch stuff grow. Probably best to send those who want to pave everything off-world as well, let them build their mini-malls there. They'd be able to put up mall after mall, without the added cost and annoyance of having to cut down hundreds of thousands of collective years worth of tree and plant growth first. Much easier for them, much nicer for the rest of us.
But then I'm probably one of the few people who wouldn't complain if I had to trade my car for a horse and the highway for a dirt road (or, even better, a woodland trail...)
That's saying something, because I've only been on a horse once... didn't exactly fall off, so much as fly up and come back down again. My horse decided he didn't like the one in front, so he kicked her, and then, while I was mid-air from that, he decided the one behind him was also an ingrate, so he kicked back at that one, rising up to meet me half way. Yeouch.
