Ok, so I had a little down time at the "day job" this afternoon, and thought it would be good for me to have a place to post my rantings that did not directly feed into the show's page or content. Hence, a new blog is born. I make no guarantees that there will be daily posts, but with the commute that I make every day I'm sure I will have plenty to gripe and bitch about.
Today's topic: Allergies and traffic
As far back as I can remember, I have had allergies. I know, I know...EVERYONE nowadays has allergies...blah blah blah. I am just coming off a mostly-sleepless night sneezing my head off because NOTHING I had (prescription or over the counter) would cut through my allergic reaction to the pollens in the air yesterday. So please excuse me if I am a little bit terse with this next part.
I'm on the way to work this morning, sucking down coffee like I was Pamela Anderson taking a boat ride with Tommy Lee, when I come up behind this late 70's Caddy. Behind the wheel is a driver who I can only assume was of legal retirement age when he purchased the car right off the showroom floor. The speed limit on Lakeshore Drive (Hello Chicago Fans!) is 45. He's driving 25. And I may be overstating that by 10.
I think, "Ok, he's in the right hand lane. Maybe he's just enjoying the view of Lake Michigan this morning?" I put on my blinker to change lanes and pass. As I am halfway between lanes, he decides HE wants to come over into that lane as well. Did I mention that as he's changing lanes he taps his brake?
A mild grumble, but I'll live.
Ok sir, you want this lane? You can have it.
I put on my blinker to move into the far left lane...just moving into that lane and SURPRISE! Grandpa wants to come over here too! Is the old guy trying to get my attention? Is he hitting on me? What the hell??
Now I am a fairly courteous driver. I do not tailgate, cut people off, or otherwise go out of my way to make other driver's days crappier than Lisa Nowak's diaper on the drive to Florida. I also highly respect my elders. I love and idolize my Grandfather.
Even as I made my "Maverick" move and pushed my SUV into afterburner in my 3rd attempt to pass Mr. Henry Ford Sr., I refrained from cursing out of my window and showing him he was number one in my book. All I could do was stare in disbelief as I (finally) passed and glanced over at the golden-aged driver only to see HIM cursing at ME and telling me that I was HIS number one fan.
Who do we have to pay off (hey, it sounds like I'm a Chicago native) to get some kind of law in place that limits the upper end of the age-chart to be a licensed driver? Is it wrong of me to feel that if someone is riding in a vehicle going 20 mph UNDER the speedlimit, and they are of that age group, they should be in a funeral procession? And before anyone says anything, I didn’t say I wanted them to be the honoree of the procession…just riding in it. Call it a dress rehearsal, if you must.
Let me know what you think, I’ve got to actually work now.
