Wednesday, January 4, 2006

The Lost Art of the Blinker


There is a handy little lever on the left hand side of your steering wheel (No, no, your military left. What are you doing? Don't put that finger...oh for God's sake.) that I would like to reacquaint you with. It might also control your winshield wipers or, more likely, your headlights. What you do with this is simple. When you want to make a turn as you drive from Point A to Point B, you use any combination of fingers or your entire hand - hell, both hands if that's what you need to get the job done - to move the lever up and down. Depending on which way you move it, your car will have a little blinky light at the front and back of it on the appropriate side that - get this - TELLS OTHER DRIVERS WHICH WAY YOU WANT TO GO. This is helpful with things like not causing collisions and not making people wait for 5 minutes for you to inch along the road with the other lane completely clear of traffic only to find out that you are going to continue on your deranged little way. People at the fork of Salisbury and Forest Streets, I am GLARING MY ASS OFF IN YOUR GENERAL DIRECTION.

One more traffic related item...guys, seriously, know and follow the rules of the road. I know you're trying to be nice by letting me go at the funky intersection, but I am expecting you to go, because you have the right of way, and no good will come of your politeness at this moment in time. Don't let me discourage you from being polite the rest of the time, but when you're driving, just go by the rules. Because what's going to happen is that you're going to smile, and look like a really nice person, and I am totally sure that you are, but then I'm going to start to go, then stop, because I think I see you moving, and you're going to get confused and then YOU are going to start going, and we'll have a few more false starts, a la the Patriots (...seriously. Cut the crap, guys.), and then some asshole, probably in a pickup truck, is going to come flying through from the third street in the intersection and blow his horn and flick us both off, and it's GONNA BE UGLY, so would be my pleasure to have you go right on ahead, because if we do that, the asshole in the truck will have nothing to honk at, and I won't be pissed.

RIP fishie Dean, dead of unexplained causes. Jerry lives on, appropriately. We are getting a big fish tank now, which will be really nice - complete with cat-proofing cover - and maybe we will get a SHARK because now Worcester has a hockey team!

Spiritus Sancti, Dean-o.

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