February 19, 2015

Honking Mad

More and more each day, as I drive, I rail about people who are on their phones while driving.  I don't mind, as much, people talking.  Except for the ones that clearly aren't capable of talking and driving at the same time.  If you can't maintain a safe speed and talk, then hang the phone up, dimwad.

What I am really at the end of my rope about, is the drivers that are clearly distracted.  There are the ones that hold their phone up high, in their driving line of site, for all the world to see why it is that they are weaving all over the road.  But, as more and more cities adopt 'no texting' bans and similar laws, the number of people that drive while staring down has increased.

This morning I reached something of a breaking point.  It actually started with a cow.  Surrounding my kids' school are lovely pastures filled with cattle.  The landowner clearly has the herd on a fall calving schedule, as there are have been several new calves lately.  This morning, I drove by a heifer that appeared to be in labor (I will spare you the details), which spurred me to wondering how many hours my grandfather had spent during his life, checking on his herd, pulling calves in distress, etc..  One thought led to another, and I recalled my grandfather's lifelong habit of waving to passing cars as he drove.  Not a full-on wave, but a slow raising of his index finger off the top of the steering wheel, as he met other cars.  In Farmland, Kansas, everyone waved back.  I fondly remembered riding to town with him in his truck, and thinking that he knew everyone!  I decided that I would try a friendly little experiment and greet each oncoming car with a similar wave this morning as I drove to work.

None of the frickin' people were looking up!  Try to do something nice to brighten people's day, and they ruin it.  It was ridiculous that nearly every single car that was passing me, was clearly focused on something in their crotch area.  So, instead of my 'do a good turn daily' type of plan, evil Harper emerged and I began laying on the horn each time I met a car with a distracted driver.  Thank you, Ford Motor Company, for not scrimping on the decibel level of my car's horn.

I might make this a daily thing.  Make eye contact with me, or clearly be attending to your driving abilities, or you will suffer the Horn of Harper.

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