Advertisement

Some Personal Rules for Freeway Driving

Share

After logging some 40,000 commuting miles on Southern California freeways during the past three years, I feel entitled to offer some advice to my fellow prisoners-on-pavement. Whether we crawl together or gleefully gust up to 55 m.p.h, we need more consideration for each other’s blood pressure.

First, if you must read, try the freeway exit signs. Your books and newspapers may be more interesting, but they prevent you from noticing that I have slowed down in front of you, or that traffic is a half mile ahead, and cars are angrily passing left and right.

By now, everyone has seen someone change a tire by the side of the road at least once. So why do you have to slow down and watch?

Advertisement

Your dog should not be on your lap while you drive. He may look adorable, head out the window, tongue and ears flapping in the breeze, but I am tired of wiping saliva spots off my windshield.

When I am lucky enough to drive on an unclogged stretch of road, you can bet that I will take the opportunity to blow out the carbon collected from miles of crawling. So please stay out of the left lane if you can’t go 50-55 m.p.h.

I, too, have a hard time convincing my body to move in the morning. But I would rather not watch you torture your eyelashes with a curling iron, or smear McScrambled Eggs on your face while attempting to turn the steering wheel. I would like to retain whatever breakfast I had time to get down.

When I look into my rear-view mirror and can see a few spots that you missed while shaving this morning, you really are too close. You will not get to work faster by trying to climb onto the roof of my Corolla. I have already received one case of whiplash, which continues to torment me on damp days. Finally, I really need more time to brake than you typically allow me as you force your way into my lane, a few inches ahead of my front bumper. I would also like to see whether you know how to use your turn signal. Have they stopped installing them in some cars?

MARLENA F. LIBMAN

San Marino

Advertisement