Boston Crazy Driving: June 2006

6.29.2006

Syms strikes again

Syms has tagged another precarious location, just as MassHighway has sort of removed another.

As posted before, Syms is tagging some pretty treacherous spots, including a train trestle on Route 128, the side of the Upper Deck of Route 93 facing the Leverett Connector traffic and a 20-foot-tall retaining wall in Savin Hill facing the Southeast Distressway.

Today, I noticed he tagged the back of the exit sign that alerts drivers to exits 11A and Bon Route 93 in Dorchester. This is one of those huge, green signs that hangs on an Erector set over the highway traffic. But he ran out of room and could only paint SYM on it. It was painted in black with a white outline. There were other markings in red paint that said R.I.P. for someone, apparently turning the tag into a tribute.

Less than a mile north, I glanced up at the SYMS tag on the wall in Savin Hill, and noticed MassHighway, or a subcontractor, had removed the paint by powerwashing or sandblasting the wall. The unintended result was an uglier tag showing exactly where the paint was before.
It still says SYMS in huge letters, but much worse. Each letter is now composed of squiggly lines. I suppose that it will fade with time where paint wouldn't, and I'm glad it was removed quickly.

What I want to know is how much it cost to remove it, and if this Syms guy is found, will he get the bill? Probably not.

6.28.2006

I see funny things

One time riding along the highway I saw this truck that advertised it hauled some kind of swill away from restaurants. Gosh, I wish I could remember what it was now. Whatever it was, I remember it was putrid, and it was kept in 55-gallon drums in the back of a rack-body Ford F-150. That made it scarier to be next to.

Then, there was this. A container truck filled with fat. Well, technical fat, which according to the placard means it's not for human food. Ah. So, here's one fat that won't be used in McDonald's Fry-o-laters at least.

What is technical fat? This is a question that bugged me for the rest of my drive because fortunately there weren't any crazies in my path. I went to the oracle and Google and came up with this and this. I turns out the question burns in other regions, too. Notice, that in these instances, the contents are clearly marked as animal fat. My image doesn't, leading me to believe that maybe it wasn't animal fat. Perhaps it was human fat from liposuction clinics and it was going to Newbury Street where it would later be used in place of collagen to boost the lips and dim the lines of millionaire women.

Typical of a Saturday on Route 3

All this rain has been killing me. A lot of drivers tend to lose their minds during rain and snow storms. I can't understand why, really, but it happens. So, on Saturday, as it poured down, I opted to stay home rather than join Mrs. Boston Crazy Driving and son on a car trip to Marshfield.

Weekend traffic on Route 3 is atrocious to begin with. Add a rain storm, and you've got one frustrated blogger/driver. I chose the better part of valor and stayed home.

Mrs. Boston Crazy Driving returned with stories, as I expected. She admitted I was right that there were complete idiots out there on the roads, but it still wasn't enough to deter her from her journey.

The best story she related was about a woman driving north on Route 3 on the return trip. Traffic was heavy and so was the rain. Apparently it was so bad traffic was in a crawl. As she rolled up the road, along came this woman in a small car with no lights on at all. Instead she had her flashers on. Mrs. Boston Crazy Driving said she laughed herself sick at the sight of it. She couldn't understand why anyone would go to the trouble of turning on her hazard lights, but not her actual headlights.

As traffic moved, the lady driver moved along her merry way, blinking into the blurry distance.

6.27.2006

Who the hell is Syms?

OK, is this a real tag name or is this a silly marketing ploy by the off-market clothes retailer? Though my camera didn't quite capture the whole thing, it is pretty clear that someone tagged the retaining wall in Savin Hill that keeps an entire neighborhood from sliding onto the Southeast Distressway just south of the Boston Globe's newsroom. The wall has to be at least 20 feet high and somehow it is now tagged with the word "SYMS" in unbelievable fashion.

That wall towers over four active lanes of travel. The only way Syms could have spraypainted that was to dangle by a rope and spray each letter. It had to be done in one installment because it just showed up one day. And it's not the only one. There's a SYMS tag on the unused railroad trestle over the northbound lanes of Route 128 in Needham near Channel 5's studios. It is visible to the southbound traffic, and painted in that same color beige. In fact, it contrasts so much with the maroon and rust color of the trestle that is very distracting. It also was painted in such a way that it looked like 54M5, instead of SYMS. It wasn't until I saw the one in DOT that I decoded the one in Needham.

Then, last week, I saw another one. This one was facing the Leverett Connector traffic between Route 93 and Storrow Drive. It was painted on the side of the upper deck of Route 93. This time it was in the letter format (font?) similar to urban tagging.

In each case, it appears Syms is not only looking to mark his widespread turf, but also trying to make a statement by tagging the untaggable. He seems almost like that French dude who scales skyscrapers. They both do it partly for the thrill and partly for the recognition.

Regardless of why, it is defacing public property, and I'm upset about it. There's a lot of graffiti out there that actually makes things look better. This doesn't. This is just about ego, and Syms should be ashamed rather than proud.

The new Sunbeam sign

Here's a look at the new Sunbeam Bread and Cape Cod Bread sign. At least, I'm pretty sure both were advertising bread. Those who may not remember exactly where it is, might recall that it overshadows the former ice rink that is now Boston Bowl in Dorchester. Sunbeam was on the bottom rectangle; blue letters affixed to a yellow field. The top part advertised the Cape Cod Bread and had the encouraging message to harried commuters "You're almost home!"

I lamented the loss of the sign earlier because it was a daily fixture in my commute even though it appeared to have fallen into disrepair. It's loss is one more step toward the homogenization of the highway entrance to Boston. And even though it was an advertisement, it pitched something benign like bread. Next thing I expect to see is a silhouette of a dancing man or woman with iPod earbuds.

6.23.2006

A vlog by a Boston commuter

Writing about driving in Boston is a nice hobby, which is primarily derived from my daily commute. But Ravi Jain uses his commute to actually create his posts. Jain, a self-described Boston-area artist, mounts a camera to his dashboard and chats with his co-commuters (friends) about various topics. Recently he's been vlogging about the World Cup.

The vodcasts are available for viewing on his Drivetime blog, and are rather well produced for someone who does this as a hobby. I watched a couple and was reasonably impressed. Most of all, I was entertained.

Stop by when you get a chance. I'll be watching for the day he gets cut off by a guy in a beat up old car and loses his mind. Also, make note of the clicking sound in the background. For many of you out there unfamiliar with that sound, it's the sound a blinker makes when it is turned on to indicate to other drivers you intend to turn.

The worst conceivable situation

OK, it's a Friday in the summer. Most of Boston's offices emptied midday, but I'm still at work. Why? It's not because I have a big project or a looming deadline. Nope. It's just impossible to from north to south at the moment, as shown in this Bill Brett photo on boston.com

The passing thunderstorms earlier this afternoon caused the closure of the Expressway in Quincy, and basically F'd up all other highways. The gridlock on 93 South is reported out to Spot Pond in Stoneham, making the afternoon commute look like the morning one when there's an accident.

So, I'm sitting at work waiting. I'm waiting for the traffic to subside, when I could, should be at home with Mrs. Boston Crazy Driving and Boston Crazy Driving fils. Happy weekend everyone!

It's about damn time

My grandmother had a mild stroke yesterday, from which she is recovering today at a local hospital. Fortunately, it was really mild with little residual physical effect. I'm at ease now, but when I got the call while at work, I was less than calm. I left work immediately and headed south on Route 93.

Traffic, as usual, at 3 p.m. was backed up all the way through Tip's Tunnel. It used to only back up in the last hundred yards or so, but now traffic is starting to backup the way it did in the days of the old Central Artery. Therefore, it takes a long time to get through the tunnel. It can seem like an eternity when rushing homeward for a family emergency. What makes it worse is that cell phone reception in the tunnels is spotty and largely non-existent. That means as most of Boston creeps under the city, I am out of contact for upwards of 30 to 40 minutes with the rest of the world.

It was extremely frustrating and nerve-wracking. Going into the tunnel, I wasn't able to get enough information to know how concerned I should be. I tried to remain calm, but it was hard. All I could do was sit and wait for my turn to exit. Had I read the Globe yesterday, I would have seen the story that said the Legislature is demanding Mass. Turnpike Chief Matt Amorello get cell phone service in place in the tunnel by Dec. 31 or it will turn over the communications system to the state Dept. of Telecommunications and Energy. I could have taken some solace in the fact that it might result in me being able to make a subterranean phone call. It would have also come in handy when traffic crawled through the tunnel on a recent Friday midday on my way to a doctor's appointment. Traffic was worse than I anticipated for a midday, and I wasn't able to call to say I would be late until I got out of the tunnel, which, actually coincided with the time I was supposed to be at the doctor's.

I say, why wait six months? Turn it over to DTE on July 1. Amorello has had three years since the northbound tunnel opened to make these arrangements. If it took me three years to complete something at my job, I would be fired for incompetence. I should expect, if after three years of not completing a task, my boss would take the duty away from me, without warning, and give it to someone who was capable.

Bravo, Mr. Mayor!

The Globe also reports today that Boston Mayor Thomas Menino has ordered a halt to all road construction in the city by utilities until they agree to patch over their work properly. It only took you 13 years, mayor, but I'm glad you're finally fed up.

The Globe story said Menino was driving down DOT Ave (Dorchester Avenue), this week and after hitting a pothole, he lost his cool. Apparently he got out and measured the hole, created by a bad patch by a utility company, and it had sunk four inches. Imagine feeling that while in the passenger's seat of an Eddie Bauer edition Ford Expedition, the mayor's city-owned vehicle.

What I want to know is why he was so damn fed up by such a problem in Dorchester and not the one in his own backyard? The mayor lives in Readville, a quiet little corner of Hyde Park that is the farthest point away from City Hall while still staying within the city limits. The main thoroughfare leading to quaint little Readville is the once mighty Hyde Park Avenue, which runs from Forest Hills nearly to Dedham.

In a major reconstruction of the road in the late 1990s and early 2000s, Hyde Park Avenue was completely rebuilt with new sidewalks, a center median in spots, antique-style lighting, etc. When completed, it looked like a more built up Route 16 near Wellesley College than a Boston artery. It was, and still is, beautiful. However, construction stopped at Cleary Square, the main center of commerce in Hyde Park where HPA crosses River Street. South of River Street, HPA becomes this pooly aligned, rutted and pocked road that is so hard to drive on I usually try to avoid it.

The road has deterioriated for a combination of reasons, such as constant heavy trucking and the common ailments caused by the New England freeze-thaw cycle. Most discouraging is a crooked spine of patched utility work running nearly the length of the road from the Readville MBTA station up to Cleary Square, which makes the road so uneven that it would shorten the life of any suspension, including the mayor's four-wheel-drive vehicle.

I don't know which way Menino commutes to City Hall every day, but judging by the location of his house, I would bet he uses this section of HPA, which is lined with heavy industrial businesses, on a regular basis. The road has been a shambles for as long as I can remember, at least 10 years, and yet this never bothered him. It was a pothole in Dorchester that caught his attention.

I guess in the big picture it doesn't matter how he "came to Jesus" on this issue, just that he has. Menino, to his credit, has used his tenure to be the roads-and-sidewalks mayor, embarking on a very expansive and expensive program of repaving and rebuilding many city roads -- ones that were ruined in part because of poorly repaired underground utility contruction. I wouldn't be surprised if the stretch of DOT Ave he was on that caused this halt in digging was one that had been fixed by Menino's plan, and he just got pissed off. Good for you, mayor. Thanks for sticking up for those, like me, who are damn tired of crappy roads.

Finally, someone listens to me

OK, I probably had nothing to do with it, but the Globe's Mac Daniel reports that the Registry of Motor Vehicles yesterday unveiled a new section of its Web site specifically for driver training, and will be scrutinizing driving schools around the state to make sure they are actually teaching people how to drive. Well, they're a little late to the party, but its nice they came just the same.

The RMV's driver education center isn't anything really spectacular. There's a letter from the registrar of motor vehicles and links to pages that already existed on the site. This just creates a one-stop for parents, teens and other new drivers who wish to locate a driving school and to learn more about what to look for in a driving school, and what the requirements are for a junior operator's license.

It is a meritorious effort at making it easier for people, parents especially, to find information, but it doesn't break new ground, except in one area. According to Daniel's report, parents can now use the RMV Web site to check to see if a driving school has been cited by the RMV for any infractions the way, I presume, one can look up a doctor to see if she has had any disciplinary action against her. But in the grand scheme of things, I don't think such information is entirely relevant. It may be, but I don't see how just yet.

Actually, this almost seems like the Registry is tossing a bone to the dog of outrage that is swirling around the issue of junior operators lately. The Legislature earlier month killed a bill that would have raised the driving age to 17.5 years old, taking with it several other more important issues related to driver training. It is now being revived, fortunately, minus the age increase.

Among the changes proposed is a doubling of the actual amount of driving instruction from six to 12 hours, plus 40 hours of driving with parents (and presumably others legally allowed to teach a driver on a learner's permit). Sadly, there is no way for the parents to truly verify their young driver really drove those 40 hours. Like a child on the cusp of paying for adult movie tickets, it's on the parents' honor.

However, according to Daniel's story, parents would also have to sit in with their young driver for two hours of driver training at the driving school as well. This is a great provision. Everyone (including me) can always use a refresher on the rules of the road, and this is a great way to do it. A lot of people with children coming of age to drive have themselves been driving probably 25 to 40 years, and have either always had certain bad habits or have developed them over the years, and these two hours in a classroom might disabuse them of what they think is acceptable driving.

In all, it seems, this issue is heading in the right direction. As I posted before, it is not the age, but the experience. Just like anything else, practice makes perfect. A car is just as deadly as a gun (statistically cars are more deadly), and yet we have tougher rules for obtaining and maintaining a gun license than a driver's license.

6.21.2006

'Slow' mystery solved

My friend who claims to know all about Dedham was stumped by the "Please Slow Down Dedham" signs when I asked her. I won't get a gift certificate to a local restaurant, like audience members on the "Tonight Show with Johnny Carson" did when they stumped Doc Severinson's band.

I did, however, get the info from a very reliable source: Recently elected Dedham Town Clerk Paul Munchbach. A longtime member of the Board of Selectmen, Munchbach recently replaced longtime Town Clerk Geraldine Pacheco, who retired from the position.

He had the scoop. His former colleagues on the Board of Selectmen authorized money to pay for the signs and asked the town's Department of Public Works to place them at various locations around town. The photo that accompanies this post is in Riverdale on Pine Street in front of St. Susanna's Church (Riverdale, interestingly is an inland island). Residents can actually call the DPW and request signs to be placed in certain areas.

While I usually don't like most government pork, I know these signs can be bought relatively cheaply. The material is weather sturdy in three seasons, and they can moved around town to reach different drivers. Most of all, they carry an important safety message that I hope gets drivers to actually slow down. Though, since most Massachusetts drivers are brilliant at ignoring all signs, I fear that these will be overlooked, too.

I should also like to thank Adam at Universal Hub for assisting me in this little project. He lent me some photos and kept me posted via e-mail on his sightings of the signs.

Is Deval Patrick increasing his footprint?

Here's an interesting image I took on Route 128 this morning in heavy traffic (we were stopped briefly). The van is clearly from Rhode Island, and the sticker is clearly advertising Deval Patrick, a Democrat who is running for Massachusetts governor this year.

Either Patrick has expanded his reach and is now also running for governor of Rhode Island, or this minivan owner is confused. Is Rhode Island Gov. Don Carcieri so unliked by this driver that he or she wants to draft Patrick in the Rhode Island race, too?

6.20.2006

Let... me... just... squeeze... in

Earlier, I confessed that I'm not the most courteous driver when it comes to lane changes and yielding my right of way. Even though it's National Lane Courtesy Month, I still feel the need to exercise my right of not giving way just because someone else wants me to. I would like to make the distinction here that I don't, as a rule, usurp someone else's right of way or force my way into another lane. I may not give an inch, but I don't take one either.

As in tonight, on the way home on Route 93. I'm heading south and traffic is finally moving at a decent pace. I notice that the right lane is relatively open and I check to see if I can get in. As I look, I notice a green Bimmer move into the lane and start to pickup speed. I can either get in front and stop his flow, or I can wait for him to pass and then move in. I opt for the latter because the lane is clear behind him. We roll, almost in tandem, through the last few yards of Dorchester and over Granite Avenue. Just past the exit, traffic starts to bind for last crawl through the Braintree split. Bimmer and I are adjusting our speed. There's enough room between us that I'm not crowding him, but there isn't enough room for another car.

We pass the onramp from the southbound side of Granite Avenue, and two cars are coming up to merge with the highway. One has enough room and speed to merge in front of the Bimmer. The other, an Infiniti or Nissan Pathfinder, doesn't. For the sake of argument, let's say it was an Infiniti since they're both the same anyway. For him to merge between the Bimmer and me, I would have to slow down. But, see, I'm not obligated to slow down and let the merging traffic in. The right of way gives me the right to hold my ground. Besides, the lane was practically wide open behind me. In fact, so was the lane next to me.

The Infiniti driver believes he should be let in behind the Bimmer. He wedges his way down the road, and as the road narrows, he will have to choose between trading paint with me or the jersey barrier. Neither is appealing to him, but he's mad I won't let him in. He beeps a series of short beeps, but gets no response from me and merges behind me. He quickly gets on my left and speed up next to me and beeps again to get my attention. I don't care what he has to say to me, nor how many fingers he will use to say it. He starts to move in front of me, but thinks better of it because he again has a bad choice: either trade paint with me or the rear of an 18-wheeler. He decides the better part of valor is to give in and we part company with the flow of traffic.

Some may read this and think me a complete jerk. Everyone is entitled to an opinion, but I'm not a jerk. I'm the guy who is standing up for everyone out there in this region who is tired of being pushed around by aggressive assholes who believe everyone should get out of their way. I'm the guy who says, "You know what? If 70 isn't fast enough, go the F around." I'm the guy who stands his ground and forces the bullies to admit they're not so tough after all. HOWEVER, I am not the guy who thinks it's OK to get into a pissing contest, let alone a road rage match over driving technique. If someone cares to attempt that kind of behavior, I usually make a few turns off my charted course in the direction of a police station if I'm near one. Luckily, I can say that very few people have gone that far, and I feel satisfied at the end of the day that I have done my part for the rest of the region to demand some respect on these roads, if not a little courtesy.

Lane courtesy, not in these parts

Mac Daniel, the Globe traffic reporter, noted a few weeks ago that this is National Lane Courtesy Month. I guess there's a month for everything.

I only happened to see the post a couple of days ago, and since I've been keeping an eye out for people observing this month meant for kinder, gentler driving habits. I can say that National Lane Courtesy Month is either ill publicized around here, or we just don't give a damn. And you know what? I'm one of the biggest offenders.

I've never said I am the perfect driver, and I have pointed out my own faults on occasion on this blog. Although I'm no road hog, nor a short-fused road rager. I do get bothered by other drivers who try to steal my right of way and who try to run me out of my lane when I'm already 15 to 25 mph over the speed limit. No one owns the road, not even me, and I don't like it when people act like it was paved just for them.

Just in the past week, I ran into a minivan driver from Rhode Island (someone suggested calling him a Rhode Hog, how brilliant!), and an Acura-driving Masshole who paid no heed to the fact that it was National Lane Courtesy month. Those are just two that I blogged about. There have been dozens of others, including ones where I am being a snob. See, I won't let someone in front of me who is clearly trying to cut across traffic to get to the other side of the highway. I want that person behind me, not in front, thank you very much. I also don't like my goodwill taken advantage of by a perpetual lane-changer who keeps switching to find a faster-moving lane. And, yes, I don't like being stuck behind anything spewing black smoke, anyone in a car with more Bondo than paint, or that has been in accident (I don't need parts flying off at me!).

But that doesn't mean I'm a complete jerk. I do let plenty of people get in front of me or have the right of way, but Mrs. Boston Crazy Driving accuses me of meting out lane space like a governor granting a stay of execution. I tell her that's a harsh judgment, but it probably explains why she always drives when we go out in the same car.

I don't know who's a good judge in this matter. All I know is that I show lane courtesy when I think it will be returned, and most drivers around here want to take over the road instead of share it. That, I will not allow.

'Slow Down' returns to Dedham

Adam at Universal Hub has been a great pair of eyes for me on the issue of elusive "Please Slow Down Dedham" signs. As reported earlier, here and here, these signs mimic ones in more residential sections of Boston. The idea being that the signs will cause people to drive more slowly. I think they have merit because I bet it will get people to at least glance at their speedometer.

While on his way to dinner Monday, he spotted two of them near the Dedham Cinema, this time actually in Dedham! The first, judging by his description, was on Elm Street between Providence Highway (it ceases as Route 1 at the Route 95 interchange) and Washington Street, and a second was on Washington Street (Route 1A) south of Dedham Square.

I have another friend who knows Dedham very well. She's in on the gossip, shall we say, and I've asked her to get to the bottom of this. If she can't find out, I don't know who will!

6.19.2006

Red light funny things

I have observed some funny things at red lights in my years of driving these roads. Mostly it's the run-of-the-mill stuff like nose picking, animated conversations (both with passengers and on cell phones) and grooming (shaving and makeup). This morning takes the cake. The woman in the Saturn Ion behind me on Route 28 The Fellsway at Wellington Circle was holding up a white camisol and inspecting it. I'm not kidding.

First of all, I'm surprised that I could even remember what that type of shirt is called. I had to search through the vast clutter in my brain for that one.

So, I watched her inspect the camisol. She held it up, then flipped it around to inspect the back. Then she folded it and put it down next to her. She looked ahead to check the light to make sure it hadn't changed. Then she held something else up to inspect. This time it was a bra. She inspected this the same way she did the camisol.

As usual, my imagination started working. *Get your mind out of the gutter right now.* I wasn't thinking those things. I was wondering why this woman would need to inspect a camisol and bra at a red light. Did she just buy these things at TJ Maxx 'n More at Assembly Square? Did she swipe them from the dryer at the local Launderette? Did she find them in the center console of the car; the one her husband or s/o usually drives?

This is one of those times when I wish driving in a car wasn't so isolating. I could actually ask her why she was doing it. After all, this blog seems to serve as good field research in an anthropological study. Perhaps this little bit of empirical data could be the key to some unexplained human trait. Or, maybe it was just a woman looking at clothes. I'll leave that to the masses to decide.

6.18.2006

'Slow' message spreads fast

Earlier this week, I collaborated with Adam at Universal Hub who lent me a couple of his pictures showing two types of "Please Slow Down (town)" signs. They first appeared in Boston City Councilor John Tobin's district around West Roxbury and Roslindale. In May, around Memorial Day or a week earlier, they showed up in Dedham only to mysteriously disappear in less than 24 hours.

I saw a Dedham one again Friday night, but not in Dedham. Apparently Westwood wants to spread the word, too. Maybe they are so eager to get the word out that they borrowed one of Dedham's signs. Or maybe they are so harried by zippy Dedham drivers that they want to send the message to slow down while in Westwood. Who knows. Maybe it was someone who refuses to admit that Westwood seceded from Dedham 109 years ago.

The sign was sort of haphazardly put into a traffic island that separates a parking lot from the street at a pair of Little League fields on East Street in the Islington section of Westwood. East Street leads directly to Dedham. Coincidence? Probably not.

6.16.2006

Signs of change

The cityscape along Route 93 in Dorchester has changed significantly once again. The sign that for ages hawked Sunbeam Bread and a Cape Cod-named product (how sad is it that I can't remember already), was painted over this week and a big sign is offering it for rent.

As a kid, I remember riding 93 with anticipation to see the Curley Lumber sing, a big billboard in the shape of a log. I always thought it was funny because it was named after one of the Three Stooges (ah, the mind of a child). That disappeared at some point in the late 1980s or early 1990s, never to be seen again. I think I remember another distinct sign on that stretch of road, but can't quite picture it. But amid all that change, the Cape Cod (was it chips?) and Sunbeam sign hung on.

It appeared to fall into disrepair over the past year, with several panels missing from the Cape Cod section, which also had an electric clock on top, and a friendly message saying "You're almost home!" The blue Sunbeam Bread letters also disappeared, leaving a ghost of decades of road grime to spell out the name on the yellow field.

Then, late last week, I noticed the missing panels were replaced. I knew something was up and my gut instinct was that the days were numbered for the old sign, but I held out hope that maybe the sign's owner would let nostalgia win over commerce. Well, my gut was right. The sign was painted a stark white, and the rental pitch was lashed to both side of the board, not only pitching the sign's availability, but the building beneath it.

Luckily, and at least until the sign is rented, the words Sunbeam Bread can still be made out through the white paint. That sign was probably the last of the real landmark billboards on Route 93 that recalled a different era of highway advertising. Now, it seems, we are left with the bland uniqueness of billboards that rotate ads and vertical billboards like the one that has shrouded the Pine Street Inn for a decade and the other one near the Pine Street on Albany Street that for the better part of a year advertised the Boston Globe's silly youth-oriented tabloid "Sidekick."

The change leaves me cold because now it seems like driving into Boston is no different than driving into Cleveland or Jacksonville. It wasn't a major landmark, but it was one that reminded me of some great childhood memories of coming into Boston.

Can they be called RI-holes?

Masshole is a well established term in these parts to describe any kind of aggressive or herky-jerky driving by someone in a car with Massachusetts license plates. I think it was coined in the north country, because I first heard it in Maine. But is there a similar term for people from Rhode Island who exhibit Masshole qualities? Can they be called RI-holes? It doesn't have the ring to it.

I have no love for Rhode Island drivers. Growing up in the south suburbs, I dodged my share of Little Rhody residents driving in ways that would make the most seasoned Masshole cringe. I have learned to give anyone with a wave on the license plate plenty of room. That rule was in place Wednesday as I was driving up Route 128 North.

Before my encounter with the Rhodyhole (still not quite right), I was tailgated by a Masshole in an Acura 3.5 TL, who had difficulty understanding that I could only go as fast as the car in front of me, and since the Acura driver was last in a line of about five cars, I wasn't about to give way. I write this as an aside, because I noticed something about the Acura driver's behavior that bears noting. As he was riding my bumper, he kept tilting his head back like a PEZ dispenser to check his rearview mirror. That is a classic tell of an impatient driver. It also reminds me of some great advice I got while learning to drive. Always position your mirror so you can see the road by moving only your eyes, not your head. Not only does it not telegraph your next move, but it also allows you to refocus on the road ahead with ease because you don't have to reposition your whole head.

Anyway, getting back to the Rhode Islander in the minivan. This guy had a car full of kids, and appeared to be on his way north to some kind of vacation spot. Being a Wednesday, I couldn't understand his particular rush. I picked him up in Burlington as we both sped past the Route 3 interchange. Again, I was in the left lane in a long line of cars and he was behind me, though more impatient than the Acura driver of earlier. The minivan moved over a lane and tried to get past the left lane traffic, but the center-left lane wasn't moving any better. He moved to the center-right lane, but was only able to get in front of the car slowing him down in the center-left lane. When he eventually made it back to the left lane, he was only about 300 yards and maybe five cars in front of me, and the lane still wasn't moving fast enough. He changed lanes again, and again, and again.

By the time we passed the Route 93 interchange, we were neck-and-neck again, even though I wasn't trying to race the guy, and I hadn't changed out of the left lane. He continued on this harey-carey movement all the way past Route 95 and onto the northern section of Route 128, which has got to be the most dangerous section of divided highway in the state. Then suddenly, his tailgating and frantic lane-changing stopped. He got into the right lane and slowed down. I couldn't tell because I passed him in the left lane, but I think he got off at the North Shore Mall in Peabody. Apart from the Lahey Clinic's branch there, I can't think of why anyone would be in such a rush to get to Peabody.

After leaving my Rhody friend behind, all I could think of was other advice a wiser driver gave me when I was first driving. He told me to pick a lane and stay in it when driving on the highway. If I felt I needed to go around, I should do it smartly and look at the traffic around me. He said to examine the holes and see if the openings would improve my ability to move, or would I just end up being boxed in. I learned from that advice that patience pays off because often the next move reveals itself to me. It may take a mile or so, but it comes, even if it means slowing down a bit to make another move.

And now for a bit of Zen: Moving through traffic is like playing checkers on a river current. The pieces float along with the current, and moves must be made with the current in mind or it could sink the whole game.

(If anyone is wondering where that Zen comes from, I made it up.)

6.15.2006

A moment of silence

Boston Crazy Driving will be taking a moment of silence for State Police Trooper Paul F. Barry, 39, who died this morning in crash on Route 495 in Wrentham. He was a married father of seven. Mac Daniel has details here.

It is a sad day. Please keep Trooper Barry and his family in your thoughts.

6.13.2006

Slow Down, everyone, everywhere!

Adam at Universal Hub caught a snapshot of signs around West Roxbury encouraging people to drive slower that were conceived of by Boston City Councilor John Tobin. They have spread to other neighborhoods in the councilor's district, but haven't made it to other streetcar suburbs en masse such as Hyde Park and JP. That doesn't mean the idea hasn't been welcome elsewhere.

Several "Slow Down Dedham" signs lined Sprague Street and East Street, including the East Street rotary at Cedar Street, during Memorial Day weekend in Dedham (obviously). The second photo was also taken by Adam, who must keep his camera in a holster on his belt. He was kind enough to loan both to me. The Dedham sign is at the traffic delta at Pine Street in Dedham's Riverdale section in front of St. Susanna's Catholic Church. Interestingly, the town allowed a more permanent sign, not shown, to be erected at that delta that read: "SOS Save our St. Susanna's" in protest of the Archdiocese of Boston's planned closure of the parish. The church survived and the sign was removed.

The Slow Down Dedham signs were only up for a day, and I haven't seen a single one since. I wonder if it was because they were all pretty much placed within the public right-of-way. I hope that wasn't the case, because the town allows similar signs posted by the American Red Cross encouraging people to give blood. There's even a publicly owned electronic message board (the kind that gets pulled around on a trailer with yellow diodes). I don't know which public entity owns the board, but it had a blue license plate on it, and it is a beacon for the Red Cross.

I don't begrudge the Red Cross or the town for helping the Red Cross to get the word out, but what's good for the goose... The signs were made of the similar weather-resistant placards as Tobin's red signs. These, however, had a white field with red letters. I thought they were a nice safety message along roads that people usually speed on, and where there are schools, churches and nursing homes, as well as families walking along sidewalks.

If anyone knows why the signs disappeared, please leave word in comments or e-mail me at the "honk at me" link above right.

What's in a name?

So the Mass. Turnpike finally got around to dedicating the leaky 93 tunnel under Boston after the esteemed former Speaker of the U.S. House Thomas P. "Tip" O'Neill, Jr. Interestingly, there wasn't a big to-do in dedicating it. Unlike the "great" public events where people got to walk across the Leonard P. Zakim (Bunker Hill) Bridge - don't get me started on how much I hate the fact that Bunker Hill is in that name - this one registered barely a blip in the news cycle. It was dedicated on Monday afternoon in the rotunda of the Boston Harbor Hotel, and the story certainly wasn't front-page news. Surprisingly, there were no suggestions of having the Boston Pops play inside the tunnel, as was suggested by Turnpike Chairman Matt Amorello when the northbound side was set to open in 2003.

Now that the tunnel was officially dedicated, and after a legislative fight on Beacon Hill that resulted in the federal government stepping in to name the project for Tip, the official name was unveiled at the entrance at the south side. It is the most unimaginative dedication I've seen. Granted, it's a lot better than a monstrous green sign the same as one telling people that Storrow Drive is exit 26, but this sign is made of individual stainless steel letters, and they have very little contrast with the bland concrete parapet they're affixed to. The first time I drove by it, I had to really focus to read it.

I can understand why the Pike chose something like stainless steel, because in this climate, any kind of paint coating on the letters would peel and other kinds of metal would rust. But there had to be something better. The Sumner tunnel has a nice Art Deco (or Art Nouveau) look to it. The O'Neill sign looks like it was pieced together with spare parts.

It's too bad, really, because it was O'Neill who pushed this project through in the 1980s during the Reagan Administration. Despite the fact that the price ballooned from $2.6 billion to $14.6 billion and that the tunnel leaks, how it was built while the existing highway remained operational overhead was a great feat of engineering. It is an underground monument to a lot of hard work by everyone from sand hogs to ironworkers to politicians like Tip. And it deserves a more fitting marker than a bunch of letters slapped on the side of a parapet.

6.11.2006

It's not the age, but the education

As the Legislature was set to debate the bill to increase the driving age, Mrs. Boston Crazy Driving and I were reminiscing about our experiences in the driver's ed. car. We both grew up in the same town, but went to different high schools, and therefore different driver's ed. schools. (Actually, anyone interested in a sweet love story, my wife and I met in kindergarten and knew each other all through grade school, but never dated until after college.)

The bill to raise the driving age to 17.5 years old failed in the Legislature on June 1, and many hailed it as a boon for harried parents who long for their teens to reach the present legal driving age of 16.5 so they can stop ushering them from sports to job to the mall or movie theaters.

Even when the state tinkered with the junior operator rules eight years ago, I thought it was an unenforceable joke. The rule was teen's could still get their licenses at 16.5, but the only passengers they could have in the car would be licensed driver's or younger siblings. In other words, they weren't supposed to be packing the car full of friends. How many times have their been major accidents, reported in the news and not, where a driver younger than 17 breaks this rule? More than can be counted. In all honesty, few cops are going to see a young driver in a car full of other teens and pull it over just to ascertain if the driver is old enough to cart her friends around.

My wife and I agreed that the problem wasn't the driving age. We were both fairly responsible young drivers (I didn't get into my first fender bender or get my first ticket until I was at least 17). What was problematic was that the driver's ed. program was a big joke at the time. We were required to drive for six hours and observe other student drivers for six hours in the instructor's car, as well as have something like 12 or 15 classroom sessions. I remember my instructor had these bifold yellow cards with squares for each of these hours that he would initial as each hour was completed. The classroom sessions were stereotypical right down to the horrible 1970s scare-tatic movie that looked like a bad porno mined from the back of a friend's dad's closet. I think it was called something like "Blood Prom." Let's just say there was a lot of baby blue and peach taffita.

I have always heard stories about driver's ed. instructors giving away observation hours for various reasons. A friend once told me his instructor had to run errands during a driving lesson, and in exchange the instructor forked over all six observation hours. He was no worse for the wear, after all I always considered the observation hours a joke anyway, but once the observation hours become a convenient bribe or reward, what's next, driving hours, too? Miss a class, get a pass for picking up dry cleaning?

I don't know what the requirements are to become a driving instructor, but I bet it probably involves passing a test to become certified and maybe a driving record check. I doubt it's an exhaustive vetting process. Once licensed, I doubt there is much in the way of recertification or continuing education. There could be, but I didn't see even a link for certification on the RMV Web site, and wasn't able to find anything in the state Department of Professional Licensure or the Executive Office of Public Safety. Who regulates these people?

This, to me, is the weakness in the system. Are 16-year-olds prone to do stupid and daring things in cars? Yes. Are they more likely to do it with friends in the car? Yes. I know I did. My first car was a beat up 1982 Toyota Corolla hatchback with no keyholes in the doors (I had to climb in through the hatch whenever I locked my car because that was the only key lock that hadn't been removed in a botched break-in attempt on the previous owner), and I would deliberately crash the thing into snowbanks just because I could. I didn't do it at top speed; it was more like: jam on the breaks, slide on the snow, slush or ice on the road and come to rest in the snowbank. And you know what that taught me? How to handle a car in a skid. That's not something my driver's ed. instructor taught, but boy was I good at hill starts thanks to him.

That's the thing. We both joked at how much emphasis the instructor put on things like hill starts and backing up in a straight line. These are both good skills, but at least for me, these were taught as if they were the secrets to a good driving acumen. We were forced to practice these over and over until the instructor thought we had them down, but we were simply told to "turn into the skid." Try remembering that in a panic. So, while these simple basics should be part of the lessons, the instruction shouldn't end there.

Some will argue that the parents have a responsibility to also let their permitted driver's behind the wheel enough to get the hang of real time driving. I agree. Indeed, for his part, my driving instructor told us we needed at least 30 hours of driving outside of driver's ed. to really get the hang of it. We needed to learn how to drive in different conditions, rain, night, traffic, snow, etc. So often I hear people say they don't like various types of driving, or even that they fear it. Some have a rational fear of it. Others have a fear of inexperience. They dread driving in Boston, say, the way Luddites dread technology.

I was the type of driver who couldn't wait to get behind the wheel. I wanted to use the permit I earned with a 10-question computer test. I wanted to practice left turns, and to see what it was like to get a car up to cruising speed on a highway. My family, however, was more cautious. "You have an engine under you!" my grandmother would scream in fear as I hit 25 mph. "You can kill even at this speed!" All of my eagerness, however, translated into a lot of driving time by the time I was old enough to get my license. After six months of driving nearly every day, and in snow, rain and at night, I felt comfortable enough behind the wheel. I couldn't say the same for my friends. Some drove like Raymond Babbit: slow on the driveway, but only on Saturdays. Never on a Monday.

Luckily, none got into a major accident that killed or maimed them or anyone else. I'd say we all beat the odds, but the odds aren't against junior operators. They're against inexperience, and instead of raising the driving age, what the Legislature should be doing is improving the driver's education requirements.

6.09.2006

What are these eye shade things?

I'm beginning to think I've been had. I bought these glasses from a man named Maui Jim who said I was supposed to wear them to shade my eyes from the sun.

"No foolin'?" I asked in disbelief.

"Sure," he said in a knowing drawl. These eye shades, for those who haven't seen them, look like regular eyeglasses except they aren't to correct poor vision. The lenses are darker than regular glasses, too.

"That's how they work, see?" the man said. "They go over your eyes and shade out the sun."

"What is the sun?" I asked, having not seen it all winter.

"Man, the sun is a large, bright circle in the sky. It comes out in the spring and summer," he explained.

"And I wear these when it's out?"

"Yes. You know, startin' in like May."

"I'll take them. How much?" Seeing that I was a novice, I think he increased his price.

"Three hundred."

I forked over the cash, and thanked Maui Jim for my new-fangled eye shades. I couldn't wait to use them. When May came, I put them on to be ready for when the sun came out, but it never came. I waited all May and never got to use them. We're 10 days into June, and only 11 days away from summer, and I still haven't used them. I went back to the place where I bought them, but Maui Jim wasn't there anymore. I think Maui Jim duped me into buying something stylish, but useless.