Bad Drivers

You know who you are. I’m talking to those of you who think you know enough about internal combustion to get behind the wheel of a couple tons of metal, plastic and some other things that I’m not sure have names, and drive on the streets, highways, roads and a few sidewalks. (I saw you, sidewalk-driving lady!) Have you considered the fact that most people think they are above average drivers? That means that above average is now the average which means that those of you who were previously below average are now in the “sucky driver” category and those who refuse to drive are in the “brilliant” category. I’m beginning to think Sheldon on The Big Bang Theory may have a point when he says he is too evolved to drive.

Those who think they are good drivers seem to be the ones who are the worst drivers. I wonder if that means those who think they are not so good drivers may be the ones who really know how to drive. My brain hurts trying to figure it out. Instead, let’s look at a few simple, totally made-up (no matter what my driving record says), examples to help you determine if you are a bad driver, a good driver or an amazing driver.

• If you have never successfully parallel parked, you are a bad driver.
• If you have successfully parallel parked on a busy street, you are a good driver.
• If you have ever parallel parked a bus while juggling hedgehogs on the interstate, you are an amazing driver.

 

• If you do not know how to use a turn signal, you are a bad driver, or at least someone who drives in Knoxville.
• If you use your turn signal when changing lanes, turning, or even before parallel parking, you are a good drive.
• If you can psychically convey to the four drivers behind you that you are going to go around the block and come back to get the parking place that is about to be vacated by the little, blue-haired lady with the walker, and if any of them try to get it before you get back you will recreate the big truck scene from Road Warrior on them; then you are an amazingly scary driver.

 

• If you slam on the brakes a block and a half away because you have no depth perception and thought that red light was right on top of you, then you are a bad driver who probably has several dents in the rear bumper of your car.
• If you carefully apply the brakes, giving proper stopping distance between you and light, and are careful to not allow any portion of your vehicle to enter the crosswalk, then you qualify for sainthood and should speak to Cardinal Ferrari at the Vatican as soon as possible.
• If you roar up to the light, skidding to a stop, causing the Boy Scout helping the old man cross the street to break the scout law about being both clean and reverent, then you are an awesome driver who needs to change his tires on a monthly basis.
  

I hope these have helped you see where you stand in the spectrum of drivers. Now if you will excuse me, I need to go take a drive in my Vette. Chevettes count as Vettes, right?

The Sad Can

I just ate the last few Pringles. Weep with me. It is so sad when you pour those last few

crumbs directly from the can into your mouth. It is so funny when you underestimated the number and size of the crumbs and overestimated the size of your mouth. As many of you will be shocked to learn, I did overestimate my big mouth. (Insert your own joke at my expense here.) After filling my mouth to capacity (I know you’re still laughing about that), the crumbs ended up all over my shirt. I did what any other guy would do when there are no women watching. I made a bowl out of my shirt ate the last of the crumbs. Hey, they’re Pringles! You do what you have to do for your favorite chips or crisps or whatever they are. (I suspect they are really made of pig intestines with potato flavoring. Grossed you out, didn’t I? More for me! Muahahahahaha!!)

That can with the mustached, bowtie-wearing man with the strangely egg-shaped head looks sad to me. Now that really I look at it for the first time, am I the only one who thinks he looks like movie critic Gene Shalit if he wore contacts? Anyway, the Pringles man just looks like he has lost his purpose. No more potato products to protect. Just an empty can that no longer has a treasure trove of munchies. Or is it?

Did you know that a Pringles can has far more uses that you ever imagined? As a kid, my dad and I made a crystal radio out of one. When I say “my dad and I made” what I really mean is he made it and he let me watch so he could tell other people we made it together.

      “Here’s the wire cutters, Dad.”

      “Thanks for the help, Son.”  Was I useful or what?

Beyond that I Googled “Empty uses”, but by the time I got that far Google had “for an empty Pringles cans” as the first choice. Pinterest has over 1,000 followers for Pringles Craft Cans. Where have I been all this time? I’ve been tossing them in the trash when I could be making them into holders for all kinds of stuff. The ones that looked like Fourth of July firecrackers had my interest until I realized there was no real explosive power in them. Then again, that could be my contribution. Does a Pringles can filled with black powder qualify as a pipe bomb? Since I live in town and the ATF was already at my neighbor’s the other day, I think I’ll skip that one. (Yea, I live in THAT neighborhood.)

 

Now that I look it over carefully, the man on the can needs a goatee to go with his mustache. There, now he looks happy. Excuse me but I think he needs a friend. Gotta walk over to the corner market to get an orange can to go with the red. Or clash with the red. Never mind. I tossed it. I just want some more chips. Crisps. Pig intestines. Whatever.

Airport Apparel – Part Five

Just when you think you've seen it all you are proven wrong. It was a different day in a different airport. Being curious to test my theory of airport apparel in another place, I found myself looking for people who fit into my four categories of “Those I Didn't Even Notice”, the “Over-Dressed”, the “Under-Dressed”, and the “Nearly Dressed”. As I looked around this new airport I saw many of the people who would quite neatly fit into the first category of those who do not stand out. There were many, many people who would fit into the over-dressed category. I saw more suits and ties than I did at my last insurance conference. (Yes, I have been to one!) No evening dresses per se. I did see some very interesting things that fit into the yet to be mentioned fifth category. I also saw some people wearing some of the most unusual items that can best be described as trash bags. Also there was this one woman wearing a form-fitting body suit with a body that really made it look good. If spandex is a privilege and not a right, she was very privileged! I went to the wrong concourse because of her!

The new category would probably fit in most major airports; however, this airport was the best for this group. Did I mention where I was? I didn't? It was a long layover at Washington Dulles International Airport! Oh yeah! I have a long a sordid relationship with this airport. As long as I am not driving away from it or set foot outside of it or have to be there for more than an hour or two, I'm fine with it. It did get me lost one time but that is another story.

Ok. I won't make you wait any longer. The new airport apparel is Those Who Are Wearing Things That Are Beyond Anything I Have Ever Imagined! I know what you're thinking: "With his weird imagination this could be interesting." I'm hoping you are thinking that because it makes me feel good. Don't tell me what you're really thinking. My tender psyche can't handle the truth some days.

These people were amazing! Now to be fair, in their home countries I am quite sure they would fit into the Unnoticed Nonsense we have already mentioned. But here?! My thoughts wandered from amused to shocked to confused to be mocked. There was one man who reminded me of every Africa jungle movie I watched in my politically incorrect childhood. He had the headdress made of red cloth towering and covering what must have been a tall afro and the flowing robes of a tribal chieftain. There was something in his nose that looked suspiciously like a human ulna. I suspect he was on his way to congress, the White House or McDonalds. He looked hungry and I got nervous remembering the stories of cannibals from Gilligan's Island. I hope he made it to Micky-Ds.

There were several people who looked like they came out of one of Scheherazade’s 1001 tales and, being Washington, they seemed quite normal. Except for this one who didn't quite get the memo on how to dress in DC. He looked like he had walked out of Aladdin, but he

didn't look like Aladdin. It wasn’t his appearance that surprised me, it was his aroma. I do not know when he bathed last. Based on the fumes that seemed to waft off him I theorized it was in the early 90's. He had a WAKE of humanity behind him creating a dead zone no one dared enter! There was one brave teenage boy who was showing off to his girlfriend and walked into the middle of it. The paramedics were able to revive him two hours later with minimal brain damage. I just caught a glancing blow but it made me wish I had no sense of smell. There are no words that truly explain this odor but if you take a spoiled, raw egg and wrap it around greenish ground beef put it in a bag with some decaying cabbage then leave it a port-a-john in the west Texas sun for 52 days… you still would not come close to the smell. Then I considered the plane he had just been in. That is one 747 that will need to be bleached, cleaned with ammonia and then buried in the place we keep toxic waste.

The last person I pondered was from Japan. No one has never seen that many vibrant colors in one place! Being I guy I look for red, green, yellow, blue, orange, gray, black and occasionally pink. I do not know what to call some of those colors. Ummmm... hmmmm... bright! Yeah! Bright! This flowing dress had all the colors of the rainbow and every variation of every color in between. There were even a few strands of fabric that drifted into the ultraviolet and infrared spectrums. I think she enjoyed the attention because she was smiling at all the onlookers leering without lechery but with curiosity. It was hypnotic! After watching her pass my thoughts wandered and for some reason I found myself wanting a new PlayStation. Coincidence or the subtly subliminal manipulation? You be the judge.

Well that is it. I can't think of anything else that could possible lead to a part six of this quintilogy but I haven't been in a foreign airport in a while.