The Road Rager rides again

As I ride the roads on my great white steed (a smallish Jeep, actually), I see many wrongs that need writing, so here I go.  

I am my own Indian companion, being just a tiny part Indian, so that is covered. I am thinking about wearing a mask, too, maybe one of those theatrical ones with the big frown (“Tragedy�) to express my displeasure.

The first mask that the original Lone Ranger used was a simple affair that just covered the eyes and he made it himself. You can still kind of tell who the person is. In later years, he went for the one that kind of comes down over the nose, too. This is a more commercial style. I don’t think he would have had the facilities to construct that little rigid part on the nose.  I guess he had to mail order them. He could have had them shipped to his nephew, Dan.  I haven’t figured out the silver bullet part yet.  I hope it doesn’t come to that.

u      u      u

Anyway, what I am seeing the most of is largish SUVs coming toward my littlish SUV and weaving onto my side of the road, often on a curve so you can’t see them coming ahead of time.  They are, of course, on their cell phones.  

We all know this is illegal, but it is kind of hard to enforce when you see police drive by on their cell phones.  The thing about a head-on collision or side swipe is that there are usually no witnesses. They just keep going. The insurance companies assign equal blame to the parties involved and everybody’s  insurance goes up.

The other big offender is the pickup truck equipped with enough lights to land a 747. They come out of nowhere in the night and light up the interior of your car while impatiently jockeying for a chance to pass while trying to push you along faster.  They base their following distance on the idea that if you have to stop, they will be able to stop at the same rate of speed.

News flash: They can’t do anything like that, not if I hit something stationary, like a deer, or an oncoming SUV.

Many people who have never been in an accident think that you should just let them hit you and retire on the insurance payoff. These people have never lived with a back injury. My little car is smaller than either the SUV or the pickup. As Sancho Panza says in “The Man of La Mancha,� “Whether the stone hits the pitcher or the pitcher hits the stone, it is going to turn out badly for the pitcher.�

You know who you are. Now knock it off!

Bill Abrams resides, and carefully drives his little white jeep, in Pine Plains.

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