Worst Drivers On The Road

June is my birth month and while birthdays aren't any big deal with me, I was struck this year by a profound realization; it was fifty years ago this month that I was issued my first driver's license. A half-century of motoring.

Now I'm one of those American boys who loves cars. Couldn't wait for each new model year to roll around. Starstruck by shinny chrome. I'm still intrigued by new models although, now that they're designed in wind tunnels, they all pretty much look the same... like an egg. I guess an egg is the shape of least resistance.

Probably like most of you, most of my driving over the past fifty years has consisted of commuting to and from work. There are the memories of some pretty great motoring moments, like the time I raced a larger, more powerful Peugeot toe-to-toe in my little Fiat 500 Abarth over the hills-and-dales of eastern France. They never could pass me. I would pull away from them on the dips and curves only to get caught on the straights. This went on for over 100 miles. Great fun.

No, I'm sad to say that in retrospect, the majority of my seat time has been spent in commuter traffic. Blah!

However, it is those hundreds, if not thousands, of hours spent in the give and take of commuter traffic that qualifies me to make the following judgments: Who are the most rude, and the most courteous, drivers on the road?

1. The most rude drivers on the road... Black Women, of all ages. The ones least likely to let you in line, least likely to leave room so that someone can pull out of a service station and cross the road, most likely to blow their horns, most likely to speed up so you can't get in, most likely to be jabbering on a cell phone. In this "Age of Entitlement" they just flat don't give a damn about road manners or the overall good of the commuting community. They might be the nicest most giving people off the road, but on the road, give them plenty of room because you never know what to expect, but you can bet that it will have nothing to do with courtesy or give and take.

2. Next most rude drivers on the road... Young People of both sexes. Young people are always in a hurry. Most likely to cut you off, drive way too fast and race you to a parking space. I don't let them bother me too much though, because when I was young, I was the same way. Everything was a race and driving fast was fun.

3. Next most rude drivers on the road... White Women, of all ages. Oblivious. Wait until the last second to switch lanes to make a turn, not only cutting you off but making you slam on your brakes as well. All over the road while primping in the mirror or doing their nails or... texting on the frigging cell phone. I don't think they mean to be rude, they're just... oblivious.

4. Second most courteous drivers on the road... Latinos. They seem to just go with the flow. True, they've got their own flow, but everyone's welcome to join in. Don't know how it is in the rest of the country, but here in Baja Georgia most Latinos are the working poor. I guess they've got to many other problems to let traffic be one of them.

5. The most courteous drivers on the road... Good Ole Boys of all stripes. Need someone to let you in line, the redneck in the pickup will let you in most every time. See a broken down car on the side of the road, it'll be a good ole boy who stops to help. Ever see a good ole boy talking on the phone while driving? Not very often. White, black or brown, whatever other faults they may have, being rude in traffic ain't one of them.

I Saw A Ghost... I Think

The other night, about one in the morning, I suddenly awoke from a sound sleep.  One second asleep, the next, eyes wide open.  There was a strange presence in the room, as if someone was looming over me.  A strange darkness with no shape or form.  Then it was gone.


The dog was sound asleep at the foot of the bed so I knew instinctively that there was no intruder.  No, what woke me from my sleep was something else.  Something else altogether.  I was shaken.  Not scared, but shaken, anxious, curious.


I have been awakened by ominous nightmares ever since the gulf oil disaster.  It's as if Armageddon really is here.  Our days on this planet as a species really are numbered.  2012 might well seal the deal.  But no, it wasn't that either.  This was different.  I have no recollection of a bad dream.  If anything, I was in a dreamless sleep.


I began to worry that I was having a stroke or a heart attack.   Of course, just the very thought of that brought on all sorts of heart attack symptoms.  I've often thought that I really don't have to worry to much about a heart attack or terminal cancer or anything like that killing me because as soon as I realize I'm having one, or the doc gives me the bad news, I'm going to die of fright right on the spot.


I do have an irregular heart that sometimes decides to take some time off.  It first happened when I was very young.  I was in the military.  Scared the crap out of me.  I jumped out of bed and raced to the infirmary only to have the medic on duty make me jog in place.  I thought at the time that the guy was a lunatic.  I'm having a heart attack and this joker wants me to run track?


Turns out, of course, that that was exactly the right thing to do and I've since learned that all it takes to get the old ticker back on track are a few deep breaths.  Or, ignore it altogether and sort of dwell in the moment of the weird place between life and death until it starts going on its own, which so far, it always has.


No, it wasn't that either.


As I lay there with all of this running through my head I realized that I had heartburn and that I had to pee.  So, I got up, took an Alka Seltzer and a leak, and went back to bed.

Let's See Your Cat Do This

Blondes just flat have more fun...

What Pisses Me Off Beyond Belief Is...

It's already the dog days of summer and summer isn't even here yet. I'm sitting here, staring at an empty screen, knowing I need to publish something and replace the filler that's currently posted, knowing I need to write another story, but nothing comes to mind. And even if it did, I don't think I have the energy to write it.


So, since everything else seems to be in summer reruns, I'm going to repost an article from over a year ago that seems particularly apropos considering the current situation in the Gulf.


As bad and as sick as the tragedy itself makes me feel, what pisses me off beyond belief are the assholes who complain about the money and manpower being wasted on helping the birds and other animals affected by mankind's greed


These people have no concept of a moral obligation to the fellow creatures who share this planet with us and it is they who will ultimately kill it.


Anyway, here it is...


Walk Gently On The Earth


Consider this… each time you step out of your house, something dies.


Each time you take a stroll in your yard or a walk in the park, something is killed or crippled. With each step you take, some small creature’s day goes bad. One second he’s just bopping along minding his own business, and the next… Wham-O! King Kong wipes him out.


Multiply this millions of times over and you should get a pretty good idea of the impact mankind is having on this planet, our home.  Now this post is not about beating you up over your careless and wasteful ways. I am certain all of my readers are earth conscious and aware and are doing what you can, but I do want to dwell a bit on being ever mindful of the consequences of our actions and their effect on the rest of creation.


I have come to understand that at least one law of physics is absolute truth: For every action, there is an opposite and equal reaction.


I believe this law applies to every single thing we do, and even think. It applies to every system or industry we create. But because the reaction to our action is most often invisible to us, we have no idea that it even happened, much less what the effect is and its impact on anyone or anything, near and far.


For example, if you poke your finger into a balloon, it expands in all directions, but you can’t see it.


The economy is no different. A New York trader negotiates a good price on bananas and the result is, some peasant farmer doesn’t make enough money to send his kids to school and, as a result, the children only learn how to pick bananas which produces more product than demand, driving down the price even further and the farmer's family into poverty.


This same principle applies to our everyday lives as well. To some degree or another, everything we do effects someone, or something else, whether we are aware of it or not.


Most primitive cultures knew this well. They knew first hand what the earth gives up for us and thus, the earth became the basis of their spirituality. They paused before slaughtering a calf in appreciation and thankfulness of its sacrifice. They paused before eating to thank the earth for its bounty.


Thanking some sky god for giving us a sterile, shrink-wrapped supermarket "food item" is not the same as getting the blood of the pig you raised on your hands.


Walk gently on the earth dear travelers.

The Sweetest Hug Ever

Larry King - Who The Hell Is This Guy Anyway?

I have reached the age where deaths are playing an ever larger role in my life and psyche.  As the icons whose names have been a part of my life all of my life pass on (Lena Horne and Dennis Hopper being the latest) I often pause and reflect on what they've meant to me.


Some, such as the two above, have had very positive impacts and I'm sorry to see them go.  Others, such as Gary Coleman, have had no impact at all and although I wish them no ill will, I just don't care.  Then there are those who are still around and whose names make me think... "If I never have to hear that guy again it'll be too soon."  A couple of those people would be Rush Scumbag and... Larry King.


Larry King.  Who the hell is this guy anyway?  Have you every watched his show? The few times that I have, when his guest was someone I was really interested in, it was a crashing bore, a wasted hour, a droll interview of lightweight questions and no insights.  Yet somehow, the guy is a "celebrity" sought out as a guest at ritzy parties, someone to be seen with and, apparently, a magnet for bimbo blondes.

The big news lately, as reported by the Associated Press, is King's latest divorce, HIS 8th!!

"It's a very sad day in Larry's life and he hopes the divorce will be amicable," King's lawyer Susan Carter told TMZ. "Larry loves his children very much and will be an integral part of their lives."


Give me a break!  This guy doesn't give a damn about anything but his own celebrity and why the hell he is a celebrity in the first place speaks volumes about the sorry state of our culture.

Yin Yang

This is one of those push/pull kind of things.  For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. 

By example:  The Turks are pissed off at the Israelis for shooting up their blockade running cruise ship and have sworn revenge.  But it turns out that Israelis comprise the lion's share of tourists on Turkish Mediterranean beaches and out of fear, have been canceling vacation reservations by the thousands, thereby leaving dozens of Turkish tourist resorts in dire financial straights.  Who would've thought?

The same kind of impossible to foresee consequences occur in almost any and all human interactions and endeavors.  Let's look at energy.

Excepted from an article in the NY Times.

WASHINGTON — Burning fossil fuels costs the United States about $120 billion a year in health costs, mostly because of thousands of premature deaths from air pollution, the National Academy of Sciences reported in a study issued Monday...

Nearly 20,000 people die prematurely each year from such causes, according to the study’s authors, who valued each life at $6 million based on the dollar in 2000. ($6 Million?? I don't think so. C) Those pollutants include small soot particles, which cause lung damage; nitrogen oxides, which contribute to smog; and sulfur dioxide, which causes acid rain...

The study lends support to arguments that society should pay extra for energy from sources like the wind and the sun, because their indirect costs are extremely small.  (The logic behind this eludes me. C)  But it also found that renewable motor fuel, in the form of ethanol from corn, was slightly worse than gasoline in its environmental impact... 

Eethanol, a mixture of 85 percent ethanol and 15 percent unleaded gasoline, or E85, showed slightly higher damages to environment and health than ordinary gasoline, because of the energy required to raise the corn and make ethanol from it...

This same cost/benefit applies to hydrogen and even electric vehicles as well.  The cost of producing the hydrogen and electricity outweighs the gains.

Now lets factor the environmental and economic costs of an uncontrolled oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico into the equation and see how the figures turn out.

Here's an idea:

From Boy to Man - Overnight

Someone was shaking me out of a sound sleep.  It was the Military Police.  Aircraft down somewhere near Kaiserslautern.  I only had time to climb into my fatigues and grab my camera gear.  Inside the truck, a high school acquaintance who just happened to be stationed at the same air base as me, poured me a welcomed cup of coffee from a thermos the police always seem to have with them.

Apparently an F102 on a routine mission had lost power and went down somewhere in the hills about 20 miles away.  I wasn't surprised, the plane was well past its serviceable life span and although they comprised most of the force on the base at that time, everyone knew that if we got into a real pissing match, the old Delta Dagger was going to get its ass kicked by the far superior Soviet MIGs.

As we sped through the night, blue lights flashing, I was a mixed-bag of emotions.  Excited to be in the "action" but fearful of what I might find when we got there.  There was no word of casualties or survivors.  No one knew if the pilot had gotten out or not.

The crash site was off of the beaten path, back in the forest, and it took some time to find it.  There was speculation that the pilot was a hero and had steered the faltering plane away from the surrounding populated areas.  On the other hand, when these things lose power there isn't any "steering" them.  They drop like a rock.

As usual, when you ride with the police you are one of the first on the scene and when we arrived there were only a handful of other people there.  It was early dawn and the rescuers seemed confused or disoriented as they searched the area with their flashlights.  As the sky brightened it was easy to see why.  The crash site was nearly barren.

The tops of some trees were clipped and there was a huge hole in the ground and all of the trees within a nearly perfect 100 foot radius were singed black.  All, indications that the plane had gone straight in.

A pall of hazy smoke covered the area and a foul smell permeated the air.  What appeared to be the jet engine was the only large lump of anything that could be identified.  As we spread out through the woods someone found a wheel, then a strut and some other heavy piece of metal.  Everything else was confetti or incinerated.  There was no sign of the pilot.

And then they found him, or what was left of him.  A burned torso with no head or limbs, hanging in his parachute shrouds high above us in the trees.  He had apparently ejected but not in time and was consumed by the explosion and fire ball.  It was then that I realized the foul smell was the stench of burnt flesh.  I nearly lost my stomach but managed to maintain my composure and do my job of photographing the crash scene.

By this time the place was crawling with people, many of them carrying black bags as they searched the area for body parts.  My job complete, we climbed back into our truck and returned to base.  Neither of us said a word on the return journey.  There was really nothing to be said.

An old-timer had told me that you can never get the smell out of your clothes so when I got back to my room, I took off my clothes, all of them, and threw them in the dumpster.  Then I took a long, hot shower and scrubbed the horrible smell off of me and out of my hair. 

I couldn't scrub away what I had experienced.  I wondered what it was like to suddenly realize you are going to die.  I thought of his family.  I thought of how dangerous the military is, even in peacetime. 

Each Memorial Day, I am reminded all over again.