Blinker, turn signal, whatever; just give me a sign

There's nothing that bugs me more about driving in Boston than the lack of turn signals. Since I grew up around here I have grown accustomed to it, but it doesn't mean I don't have to like it.

I'm not saying I'm a saint. I have forgotten to use it on occasion, and I don't use it when there's little traffic on the open highway. I also don't use my left turn signal while driving around inside a rotary the way Mrs. Boston Crazy Driving does (which also bugs me). But I can't stand these people who crawl along the gutter approaching a turn with no courtesy of letting the drivers behind know why the pace is so slow. I was behind a Ford Expedition (called such because the thing is so large they have to send out a search party for backseat passengers) tonight and the driver started hugging the curb approaching a relatively dangerous intersection governed by a single stop sign that most people ignore unless there's opposing traffic.

I wanted to go around the Expedition, but wasn't sure if I could because I could tell if the driver was turning or just trepidatious about the people who dart out of the stop sign. Finally, I decided to go around on a hunch and it paid off.

Writing about the Expedition driver alone might seem unfair, but it was perhaps the third or fourth person tonight to somehow fail to use a turn signal. I had the very common occurrence of a driver just start moving into my lane on the backed up Southeast Distressway. I had another slow to make a left, but I had no idea until the driver started to make the turn. I suppose the fourth one was actually misuse of a directional, which is bothersome, as the driver carried on heading straight with the right blinker blazing. Are you turning or what, pal? If not, get a move on!

I suppose I could fill this blog with posts about errant blinker use, especially around Boston, but tonight it really got on my nerves.

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posted by Tim @ 6:34 PM (0) comments

Assault in a nutshell

Sadly, I have seen a lot things thrown out of car windows over the years, and I can shamefully admit to contributing to roadside litter in my less-enlightened youth. Tonight, however, I saw something repeatedly tossed out of a car window that really struck me as funny.

I was driving on surface roads through Milton on my way to an appointment, and this route takes me past Fontbonne Academy and Milton Academy, which I mention as a geographical reference for people who know this well-traveled route. Ahead of me was a nondescript black Mercury Sable (in fact, I had to make special notice of the vehicle's maker because it was the same as a Ford Taurus). Every so often along about a mile-long route these little brown things would bounce in front of my car. It being dark, I didn't notice they were coming from the driver's side window until we were stopped at a light at Reedsdale Street. The red is particularly long there because it has to cycle through five corners of traffic, and as I was sitting there I noticed a pile of peanut shells piling up on the ground next to the Sable. Just as I realized what they were, another crop came flying out the window. I can't ever remember a time that I shelled and ate peanuts while I was driving, but perhaps for this person it was a guilty pleasure.

Anyway, I was still behind the car as we continued on the journey and two or three of these hulls were light enough to catch the Sable's slip stream and land on the hood or other front parts of my car! I was clearly under attack. Well, OK, not really, but I watched the way the hulls fell with an interest usually limited to physicists who believe there is some mathematical algorithm that explains the path of something seemingly random like cigarette smoke.

Some of the hulls hit the ground right away. Some landed behind the car. And, yes, some landed on my car. I didn't care about that, my paint isn't that precious and a peanut hull can't do that much damage even at 30 mph. It intrigued me for its seemingly random pattern, but also because most of the time, I see little bits of unwanted paper, cigarette butts and even Dunkin' Donuts or McDonald's cups being launched from the windows of Boston's Crazy Drivers.

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posted by Tim @ 6:55 PM (0) comments

Same to you, pal

Sometimes, I can get on the highway on the way home and don't even need to give a second look to the lane I am entering. Sometimes traffic is heavy enough at full speed that I have to merge. Tonight was a merge night. Everyone was going at or above the speed limit, including the people trying to get off the highway where I get on.

My Route 93 onramp shares a lane with an offramp ahead -- which is nothing uncommon on Massachusetts highways -- and I have come close more than once to trading paint with a few cars trying to exit as I enter. Enough practice has taught me that I need to be going as fast or faster than the traffic on the highway specifically at that onramp. (I almost creamed a car one night that was stopped at the end of the ramp!)

So, tonight I was getting on and I stepped on it, and at the same time, a Corolla was trying to exit. There was no space behind that car for me to enter for as far as I could see, but plenty of space in front of it. When the Corolla driver fell in behind me, the drive felt the need to flash me three times. Why? Who knows? Maybe because I wasn't supposed to get in front of that car. So, I hope the driver didn't mind seeing my response: My brake lights three times.

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posted by Tim @ 6:51 PM (0) comments