Wednesday, April 27, 2005

CMJ New Music Monthly Sampler Vol. 97 October 2001

Driving home, I noticed a red car bouncing from lane to lane. In his mind, I’m sure he thinks he’s getting somewhere a whole lot faster. He was jockeying for position at stoplights. He was speeding up to squeeze between cars. He was being quite a jackass.

Before I was driving age, my Father would show me things about piloting a vehicle through traffic. He gave me insight about traffic signals. He would point out the jackasses that were all around us.

“Son, see that car?” he would always ask.

“Yeah, I see it,” I would always answer back.

“Keep your eyes on it.”

The car would take off like a startled horse. The car would jockey for position, changing lanes without a signal. The driver raced their way right up to the next stoplight where we would catch up to it. Then the cycle would start all over again.

I would say that eighty percent of the time, those jackasses didn’t get anywhere any faster than we did. They would break their necks to achieve something that only existed in their minds. We would catch up to them at the very next light. If not the next, we would find them a few lights later.

My father showed me that there’s no reason to drive fast through city traffic. The lights were timed with the speed limits and going faster only meant two things would eventually catch up to you.

One… A police cruiser will catch you abusing the speed limit or driving in an unsafe fashion.

Or two… Since you would always be inclined to hurry, chances are good that you will squeeze a cherry (slightly run a red light). Which could lead to a traffic citation or an accident.

He flatly told me that I should take my time through city traffic. There was no reason to hurry. Highway driving is where you can shave off some time with higher speeds.

He wasn’t condoning anything, he was simply telling me like it is. My Father should know, he’s a retired Deputy of the Guilford County Sheriff’s Department. Being in traffic for twelve hours a day will teach you a thing or two. That, and I suppose getting the knowledge first hand as a cop.

Even today, I get tickled when jackasses are navigating through traffic. I see them tear-ass off to the next stoplight. And if the lane next to them is clear, I LOVE zipping on past them. But they do catch up, pass me, and eighty percent of the time the cycle keeps repeating itself.

I find it all very amusing. I haven’t decided if these jackasses are stupid or they just don’t notice the trends because they’re not paying attention.

When I caught up to this jackass in the red car, I noticed something else that doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.

He was driving a late model import that looked all right for it’s age, but he had at least three months of my paychecks for wheels.

Why do people pay so much for wheels?

I’ve heard that it’s like jewelry for your car. I’ve heard that it’s a statement on what type of person that you are. Overall, I happen to agree with both.

I don’t understand why anyone would accessorize their vehicles with wheels that can be a third or more of the value of the car itself. The statement that I’m hearing is… You’re a dumb ass.

It makes no sense to me why someone would put a lot of money in something that can be totaled as quickly as you can say, “they just came out of nowhere”. I don’t know if it’s an age thing or not. Most of the people that I see with jewelry on their cars are young.

Do these people really have that much disposable income? I don’t remember having that much cash that I could toss away on my ’73 Gran Torino or my ’87 EXP.

Maybe it was because I didn’t really care about cars. I don’t know how to work on them. I don’t even have the desire to tinker with machinery at all. Is that it?

If I ever get a hold of my “dream car” somewhere down the line, I might learn how to tinker. Or in other words, fix or repair it from time to time. I’m sure that a ’72 Dodge Challenger could use a wrench turned on it every now and again. But more than likely, I’ll pay someone through my nasal cavities to do it for me.

And I guess that makes me another kind of jackass. Oh well, it’s a big club and it’s not all that exclusive.

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous12:18 AM

    "There goes the Challenger being chased by the big blue meanies on wheels."