Little Things Mean a Lot

I'm not sure if I'm old enough to be a Curmudgeon yet, but I enjoy practicing. I have full plans to continue on to Geezer, but I haven't decided if from there I want to go on to Cranky Old Man or Crazy Old Coot. I'm hoping I still have a year or two before I have to make that choice.

So my rant today is about the use of turn signals. Or, more accurately, the lack thereof. It's such a simple, small thing, and yet it infuriates me. It bothers me because it is deliberate. You know you are going to change lanes. You know you are going to make a turn. These are decisions you have made. Then you decided not to signal. Why isn't it automatically part of the action?

It's not as though it's a difficult maneuver. It takes less effort than changing the station on the radio. It's so simple. You can keep your hand closed around the steering wheel and just extend your middle finger to flick a little lever. As a friendly reminder, I often show this to people on the road as I pass them by.

I had a co-worker once say to me, "Signalling is a sign of weakness." Just as in war or poker, you never want to tip your hand and give your opponent an edge. I can almost understand how on our crazy Houston highways, an Offensive Driving stance might seem a viable option. Only the strong survive.

But if we're going to adopt that attitude, I want my paint gun. Gallagher had a bit about a gun that shot suction-cup "Stupid" flags at other cars. After half a dozen or so had accumulated, "the cops could pull you over just for being an asshole." Great idea! But those suction cups are so unreliable, especially when I'm trying to text about how great the burger I'm having is while going 80 miles per hour through a school zone. No, I need something simpler. Paint guns. Faster, more accurate, more shots, easier to reload, and the added bonus of potentially painting the driver. "Thanks for cutting me off, jerk!" poff, poff, poff.

If it really caught on, maybe we could adapt outside of the driving environment. "Hey lady, the express lane says '10 Items or Less'!" poff, poff, poff. Oh yeah. I really think I'm onto something now.

I am a Jerk

Yes, it's true. I admit it. As a matter of fact, I'm even going to post a little anecdote that proves it. And I don't care. In fact, I am not remorseful or repentant in the least! So, let my tale begin...

Yesterday, Karen and I went out to get a Christmas tree. We drove over to the local gardening shop, which has the best selection. To get to the actual entrance requires going a long way through an adjacent parking lot, and the strange shape of the location causes it to be more or less just a single, long, narrow lane. As K drove down the lane looking for a spot, a giant SUV zipped up behind and followed about three feet away from her back bumper. A bit unnerving. We pulled into a spot, and the Canyonero sped by to continue to look for a space. Neither of these occurrences are that unusual.

However, we were able to see where the mammoth SUV parked, and it turned out the lady driving it entered the store just a few feet ahead of us. Perfect! I immediately started walking very closely behind her. Every time she stopped, I stopped (and sighed). If she turned, I turned to stay directly behind her. After very little time, she stopped and turned to look directly at me.

Me: "Does it bother you that I'm behind you?"
She: "Well, yes, when you're so close behind me."
Me: "Maybe you should think about that when you're driving."

Exit Greg, stage right.

It's not really the best zinger in the world, but it was a spontaneous act. Am I just on edge because of the holiday season? Karen, of course, thought it was great (although I also suspect she was a little embarrassed). Am I wrong? Should one not confront another person about things like that?

A little bit later, we could see the woman further back in the Christmas tree section. She wasn't looking at us, but she was talking animatedly on her cell phone. I wondered what that conversation was like. I have no doubt that my role in her story was that of "creepy jerk."

Driving Test of Faith

On my way home yesterday, it occurred to me the enormous amount of trust we put in complete strangers every time we get into our cars. Numerous traffic laws are more like social contracts to behave a certain way. If everyone accepts the same basic method of driving, then the whole system runs smoothly. Just one person who decides to drive the wrong way on a road or ignore a streetlight can cause complete chaos.

There is also the amazing iconography and graphic design that we encounter on a constant basis. A yellow dashed-stripe means one thing, a white one means something else. All road signs which require a particular action or level of attention are the same color. It really is a pretty amazing system.

But, I digress.

What got me thinking about driving in the terms of trust was the action of one particular driver yesterday. He was a man in his late-40s, driving a nice but older red BMW. Let's call him Bert.

I'm on a large street headed East. There are three lanes for me (I'm in the far left), three headed the other way, and a wide left-turn lane between us. We had been waiting for a traffic light that was quite a ways ahead of us. It had just turned green, and as the compression wave of traffic expanded like the Slinky it is, we were just starting to move. Here comes Bert.

Bert is coming the opposite direction, and he needs to turn left. He glides into the left-turn lane and begins his turn. Right into the existing traffic! There wasn't a space there he was trying to beat; the traffic wasn't stopped so he could create a gap; he just turned. The car ahead of me (let's call him Ernie) had to slam on his breaks to keep from hitting Bert head-on. Bert stopped too-- in the middle of our lane!

By this time, the wave is in full motion. The other two lanes are about up to speed, all of them trying to make that light up ahead. Oblivious Bert just waits there, blocking a full lane, until enough cars see the situation and stop long enough to let him through. Of course, neither Ernie nor I (Can I be Grover?) nor anyone behind us make the light that was only about 20 yards away.

Now, you may be thinking, "So what? That sounds just like a typical asshole driver to me." You're right. But what was Bert's mindset when he made that bonehead move? He *knew* that there was nowhere for him to go, but he went anyway. He probably thought that Ernie wouldn't want to wreck his car, prolong his commute, and ruin his day by running into Bert. You could say he forced Ernie to stop, but to me, it was an act of faith. He believed that he knew what would happen.

After realizing his error, Bert also could have backed up the three feet necessary to accommodate our lane. He could have waited in the left-turn lane for the traffic to pass or even stop, and then make his turn. But again, Bert had faith. He knew that if he stayed his course, eventually others would accommodate him. And he was right! That's pretty amazing, actually.

So, back to what I was saying at the beginning. If *everyone* drove this way, it would be anarchy. Have you ever visited a country where they don't have (or obey) lanes on a road? It isn't pretty. But if just one person out of hundreds does it, the ripple is quickly absorbed by the stream.

You could take from this example that there's always going to be an arrogant jerk on the road with no consideration for other drivers. Or, it could be that all of us are actually quite considerate, and from time to time we are asked to prove it.

As someone who is ashamed of my own occasional bouts of road rage, I think I'll choose the latter.

The Future of Traffic Law Enforcement

For a couple of years now, Houston has had "red light cameras" that take pictures of cars running red lights. Based on the license plate number, the driver is then mailed a citation and expected to pay the fine. I don't know how prevalent or numerous these devices are in other cities (and I really don't feel like doing any research), but I find the concept fascinating.

Obviously, a lot of people don't favor them. I suppose they believe that if an actual police officer didn't catch them in the act, then they should be allowed to get away with it. That's a very interesting ethical position to take: if I wasn't caught, then it wasn't wrong, basically. I could go on for paragraphs on just this aspect alone, but I won't.

But traffic law, for the most part, is pretty cut and dried, black and white. The light was red; you entered the intersection; you get a ticket. So the use of computers and automated cameras makes a lot of sense here. I'm sure there are plenty who still fight the tickets, but they're fighting against solid evidence and can really only make appeals based on "just cause."

Believe it or not (surprising even to me), I really like this concept and think it should (and will) be expanded. I've often seen digital speed limit signs equipped with radar to show you how fast you're really going. They're always temporary, I guess just to remind drivers that the police do know what you're doing. But why couldn't these signs have cameras as well? It doesn't seem like it would be too difficult to set up a system for stop signs as well. I think this is an inventive use of modern technology. Fifty years ago, it would have been impossible, but now you could have an automated post measure your speed (radar), take your picture (digitally, no film), time and date stamp it (computer), and send it to a central police hub (wireless Internet). That's impressive.

Will this happen? I think so. In the next five years, probably not. Ten? Probably.

But this idea can be taken even further, which is what I really like thinking about. How many cars today are equipped with rear-view video cameras? Some even have little radar sensors to tell you when you are nearing an object. And these aren't super luxury or concept car features; these were on the Ford Focus I drove a few months ago.

So, why not have driver-controlled cameras to report the bad/illegal behavior of other drivers? How many times have you seen someone driving recklessly on the freeway, too fast, weaving in and out of cars, and wished that they got caught. "Why isn't there ever a cop when you need one?"

But if you could report him yourself? Just move a joystick and take a snap, which is instantly transmitted to the police, maybe even including your geo-tracked location. This is all possible now. Sure, there are some kinks to work out. You'd have to make sure it isn't too dangerous/distracting to take the picture. There would have to be officers whose job would be to sift the reports to separate the wheat from the chaff, but that wouldn't be too hard. If you get five reports from five different vehicles in the same area at the same time, I think you should look into it. I think it might even cut down on road rage, in a passive-aggressive way. Don't like the guy tailgating you? Just take a picture and report him. He pays a fine and you feel good about yourself. That's much better than slamming on your breaks and risking gunfire.

In small tribal communities, they don't have police. That doesn't mean they don't have crime or wrong-doers, but just that it isn't the job of one person to correct it. The community as a whole upholds the group ethic. If someone steals, rapes, or murders, everyone knows it. That person is most often shunned and/or kicked out of the community. As a community gets larger and wealthier, it can afford to have people whose job is more specific or abstract. Perhaps, as our society gets larger and communication gets so much easier, it will become more like the smaller communities. If we all police ourselves/each other for traffic violations, it frees the actual police to do the specialized work they are trained to do. If people knew that by cutting ahead in a long line of cars at an off-ramp they would get a dozen pictures sent and have to pay a fine, maybe they'd be more hesitant to do it.

It all sounds very Orwellian, and that fascinates me as well. The oppression in 1984 came from the government, of course, but it was enforced by the people. Big Brother wasn't so much the camera as the person looking through the lens.

Anyway, I think it's coming. Probably not in ten years, but in twenty? Thirty? Who knows.