The Arrigoni Bridge across the Connecticut River between Portland and Middletown is beautiful and a sight for sore eyes when heading home. Too small for the commuter traffic it now has to bear seventy-three years after it was built? Probably, but it's the only bridge we've got and I love it.
It is currently undergoing a massive update to make it safer for years to come and so traffic has been reduced to two lanes for the foreseeable future. When this project was announced you could hear the wailing and gnashing of teeth all up and down the Connecticut River valley. I was not one of the wailers for two reasons: 1) The repairs need to be done and a little inconvenience is worth not being at the wheel of the car that could have fallen through the deck to the river below and 2) I assumed that the forced reduced speed on the bridge would lead to fewer accidents on the bridge which hold up traffic for hours on end.
I travel the bridge every morning at approximately 7:00am and since this project began several month ago I have not encountered anything but minimal delays. I know there have been one or two fender benders, at least one of which was caused by someone following too closely, but all in all things have been running smoothly. As Main Street in Portland narrows from two lanes to one at the entrance to the bridge traffic merges fairly seamlessly. Everyone knows the deal and acts accordingly. Most of the time.
This morning as we headed to the bridge, alternating cars moved into the single lane until it came to me. The woman in the Chevy with CT plate 189 WMG apparently felt there was some major advantage to be gained by cutting me off when it was clearly my turn to enter the single lane. Despite the nose of my car being ahead of hers, I backed off and let her cut me off. Obviously where she had to be was MUCH more important than where I had to be. As I crossed the bridge directly behind her I had time to ponder just what she had to gain by her action. Turns out it was easy to figure it out. She turned off the bridge onto Spring Street in Middletown exactly TWO SECONDS ahead on me. I hope she uses those two seconds wisely.
It is also worth noting that she had two stickers on the back of her car which indicate she has school age kids in sports programs. I hope she doesn't take it upon herself to teach them to drive... or anything else for that matter. Rudeness is not a family value.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Driving as a Contact Sport
I went to my sister's house in Massachusetts today. After helping her with a few odd jobs she needed done, my friend and I set out to run a couple of errands. This required covering Weston, Waltham, Arlington, Somerville, Cambridge, Wayland and Natick, all suburbs of Boston.
When I tell people that I drive into New York City, they are usually amazed that I am so brave or foolhardy (depending on whom I'm talking to), but I always tell them, "I used to live in Boston. Driving in New York is a piece of cake."
And while driving in New York is challenging in its own way, driving in Boston is nothing short of training for the demolition derby. The most amazing thing I ever saw in my 39 years of driving actually happened in the allegedly staid and stuffy Back Bay. I was stopped at a red light at Clarendon or Exeter Street (I'm not sure which, it's been a long time), about to cross Commonwealth Avenue. There was a cab behind me at the light and apparently when the light changed to green, I did not move quickly enough for the cabbie. He proceeded to pass me on the right by driving up on the sidewalk to get ahead of me. Only if you know the Back Bay well can you truly appreciate that. Also in the back Bay one day as I was riding my bike to work, a Boston driver ran a red light at Fairfield and Commonwealth when I had the right of way. I saw my relatively short life pass before my eyes and didn't ride a bike again for over twenty years.
My friend who was riding with me today has her own issues with driving after losing her brother in a car accident. She is a nervous passenger, but trusts my driving ability enough to rein in her panic at drivers doing stupid things. But today was her first time riding around in the environs of Boston and I think it set her back a bit.
I could not take the time to jot down all the license plates and details of all the bad driving we encountered this afternoon, but I'd like to give a special shout out to the two lucky winners of today's
"Dented Fender Award". First of all, the young lady driving the huge boat of a car in Teele Square in Somerville who took the opportunity to force her way from a side street into the lane of traffic simply because I was not tailgating the car in front of me could have won for that selfish boneheaded move alone. But running the red light and making the right turn on red where it clearly said "No Right Turn on Red" a few minutes later earned MA plate 22S T81 the honor in spades.
And then we come to the bald, more than middle aged driver of the blue BMW convertible (mid-life crisis/penis substitute, anyone?) with MA plate 987 WDC on Rte 20 about 12:20pm who looked me right in the eye as he pulled out in front of me without even attempting to pretend he stopped at the stop sign. Our second winner of the day.
I love Boston and but for a twist of fate or two might have ended up living there permanently, but if the drivers in the Portland area annoy me on a daily basis, I suspect that driving in Boston every day for the last 30 years might have made me homicidal by now.
By the way, I'll be driving intop New York at the end of the week. Piece of cake.
When I tell people that I drive into New York City, they are usually amazed that I am so brave or foolhardy (depending on whom I'm talking to), but I always tell them, "I used to live in Boston. Driving in New York is a piece of cake."
And while driving in New York is challenging in its own way, driving in Boston is nothing short of training for the demolition derby. The most amazing thing I ever saw in my 39 years of driving actually happened in the allegedly staid and stuffy Back Bay. I was stopped at a red light at Clarendon or Exeter Street (I'm not sure which, it's been a long time), about to cross Commonwealth Avenue. There was a cab behind me at the light and apparently when the light changed to green, I did not move quickly enough for the cabbie. He proceeded to pass me on the right by driving up on the sidewalk to get ahead of me. Only if you know the Back Bay well can you truly appreciate that. Also in the back Bay one day as I was riding my bike to work, a Boston driver ran a red light at Fairfield and Commonwealth when I had the right of way. I saw my relatively short life pass before my eyes and didn't ride a bike again for over twenty years.
My friend who was riding with me today has her own issues with driving after losing her brother in a car accident. She is a nervous passenger, but trusts my driving ability enough to rein in her panic at drivers doing stupid things. But today was her first time riding around in the environs of Boston and I think it set her back a bit.
I could not take the time to jot down all the license plates and details of all the bad driving we encountered this afternoon, but I'd like to give a special shout out to the two lucky winners of today's
"Dented Fender Award". First of all, the young lady driving the huge boat of a car in Teele Square in Somerville who took the opportunity to force her way from a side street into the lane of traffic simply because I was not tailgating the car in front of me could have won for that selfish boneheaded move alone. But running the red light and making the right turn on red where it clearly said "No Right Turn on Red" a few minutes later earned MA plate 22S T81 the honor in spades.
And then we come to the bald, more than middle aged driver of the blue BMW convertible (mid-life crisis/penis substitute, anyone?) with MA plate 987 WDC on Rte 20 about 12:20pm who looked me right in the eye as he pulled out in front of me without even attempting to pretend he stopped at the stop sign. Our second winner of the day.
I love Boston and but for a twist of fate or two might have ended up living there permanently, but if the drivers in the Portland area annoy me on a daily basis, I suspect that driving in Boston every day for the last 30 years might have made me homicidal by now.
By the way, I'll be driving intop New York at the end of the week. Piece of cake.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
No PowerDoesn't Have to Mean No Manners
This freak snowstorm certainly has thrown a monkey wrench into a lot of plans and schedules. I never did lose power but I am one of the lucky few.
I was in Massachusetts on Saturday and planned my trip according to the weather forecast, planning to be home by 5:00 when the storm was supposed to start. Unfortunately Mother Nature had other plans and by the time I hit the road shortly after 2:00, it was sleeting and there was full blown snow by the time I got to Worcester. Needless to say the rest of the ride home was tricky, but I have to say, people were pretty conservative, driving at a reasonable rate of speed and recognizing the poor conditions for what they were. By the time I got to Glastonbury I had already witnessed two spin outs on I-84 and then came the downed wires and trees on Routes 2, 17 and 17A. I did a bit of a spin myself on Route 17 in South Glastonbury. Black ice on an incline is a bitch, but I was going slowly enough I was able to ride it out and recover with no damage to my car or psyche.
Late Sunday I ventured out to see what the situation was around town and I was out again on Monday morning to give my friend a ride to work. Honestly I was impressed with the civility at all the intersections. It seemed like everybody recognized that we are all in the same boat and courtesy ruled the day. Until yesterday.
I took the storm refugees who were bunking with me out for a hot meal and we ventured to Wallingford to find an open restaurant. On the way home we were stopped on Route 68 in Durham, waiting to make a left turn onto Route 17 toward Middletown. Apparently our very existence annoyed the passenger in a bright yellow car, CT plate 485 XLE. As the car passed in front of us, heading south on Route 17, the female in the passenger seat felt a need to turn and give me the finger. Why? All four of us in the car are still puzzling over that. So much for letting courtesy rule.
Mother Nature can be fickle, but I would suggest we don't piss her off any more than we already have or it will be a very long winter.
I was in Massachusetts on Saturday and planned my trip according to the weather forecast, planning to be home by 5:00 when the storm was supposed to start. Unfortunately Mother Nature had other plans and by the time I hit the road shortly after 2:00, it was sleeting and there was full blown snow by the time I got to Worcester. Needless to say the rest of the ride home was tricky, but I have to say, people were pretty conservative, driving at a reasonable rate of speed and recognizing the poor conditions for what they were. By the time I got to Glastonbury I had already witnessed two spin outs on I-84 and then came the downed wires and trees on Routes 2, 17 and 17A. I did a bit of a spin myself on Route 17 in South Glastonbury. Black ice on an incline is a bitch, but I was going slowly enough I was able to ride it out and recover with no damage to my car or psyche.
Late Sunday I ventured out to see what the situation was around town and I was out again on Monday morning to give my friend a ride to work. Honestly I was impressed with the civility at all the intersections. It seemed like everybody recognized that we are all in the same boat and courtesy ruled the day. Until yesterday.
I took the storm refugees who were bunking with me out for a hot meal and we ventured to Wallingford to find an open restaurant. On the way home we were stopped on Route 68 in Durham, waiting to make a left turn onto Route 17 toward Middletown. Apparently our very existence annoyed the passenger in a bright yellow car, CT plate 485 XLE. As the car passed in front of us, heading south on Route 17, the female in the passenger seat felt a need to turn and give me the finger. Why? All four of us in the car are still puzzling over that. So much for letting courtesy rule.
Mother Nature can be fickle, but I would suggest we don't piss her off any more than we already have or it will be a very long winter.
Friday, October 28, 2011
TGIF
Last night was a bit of a trial. I had to go to Bloomfield and the roads were a mess in every direction, north, south, east and west, I-84, I-91, Route 2. It was raining and eventually sleeting and snowing (in OCTOBER!!!!!!???!!!!). And yet, except for a few minor irritations (such as the store I was going to having gone out of business) it was not as annoying as this morning's commute.
To the driver of the VW with CT plate 438 XTH who was near Ace Hardware in Middletown at 7:14 this morning: Turn signals are not optional. Try using it. It's the lever to the left of your steering wheel. And to the driver of the convertible with CT plate 937 VAU who missed their turn off of High Street in Portland: Backing up to turn into the street you apparently missed when there are cars coming down the street behind you? Not such a good idea. Go around the block next time.
Heck, it's only 9:25am....but at least I'm headed straight home after work today. And if you're driving on Main Street in Portland between 4 and 7 this evening, please watch out. It's time for "Trick or Treat on Main Street" and there will be literally hundreds of kids out collecting candy. Don't let your carelessness ruin what has been a really great town wide event.
To the driver of the VW with CT plate 438 XTH who was near Ace Hardware in Middletown at 7:14 this morning: Turn signals are not optional. Try using it. It's the lever to the left of your steering wheel. And to the driver of the convertible with CT plate 937 VAU who missed their turn off of High Street in Portland: Backing up to turn into the street you apparently missed when there are cars coming down the street behind you? Not such a good idea. Go around the block next time.
Heck, it's only 9:25am....but at least I'm headed straight home after work today. And if you're driving on Main Street in Portland between 4 and 7 this evening, please watch out. It's time for "Trick or Treat on Main Street" and there will be literally hundreds of kids out collecting candy. Don't let your carelessness ruin what has been a really great town wide event.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Drinking, Driving and Just Plain Stupidity
My friend Beth and I were driving on Route 151 in East Haddam on Tuesday following a blue GMC Sierra, CT plate 4CL 331. If he wasn't drunk, someone should take away his keys just on general principle. He was moseying along as one is apt to do on those back country roads when we came to a cross street, no stop sign or stop light, and he slammed on his brakes for no apparent reason. It was only as we began moving again that we figured out why. There was a state police car waiting to make a left turn which would have required him to cross our line of traffic. Apparently the mere sight of this car which had no flashing lights or sense of urgency struck fear into this guy's heart. There could only be a couple of reasons for this.
1) He had a dead body in the back of the truck.
2) He was an illegal alien or escaped felon and/or was driving an unregistered vehicle.
3) He'd had a few pops at the local bar and his reactions were more than a little off.
I vote for the latter. A piece of advice for the driver: If you've been stupid enough to get in your truck after having a few too many, don't slam on your brakes every time you see a cop car. The driver behind you might not always have the lightning fast reflexes Beth had and a fender bender is a sure way to get the cops interested in you. In fact, the dented rear bumper you were sporting tells me that perhaps this wasn't the first time you've pulled this stunt. Knock it off before you kill someone.
And once again this morning as the bus loaded its students at the intersection of Fairview and Main Street in Portland cars just continued to fly by the bus with its red lights flashing. What is wrong with you people? I guess at this point the word of warning has to go to the students and their parents because apparently the morning commuters DO NOT GIVE A DAMN about your kids. You know, it's dark at that time of morning and ironically, that makes the flashing lights that much more obvious....but not to the oblivious.
1) He had a dead body in the back of the truck.
2) He was an illegal alien or escaped felon and/or was driving an unregistered vehicle.
3) He'd had a few pops at the local bar and his reactions were more than a little off.
I vote for the latter. A piece of advice for the driver: If you've been stupid enough to get in your truck after having a few too many, don't slam on your brakes every time you see a cop car. The driver behind you might not always have the lightning fast reflexes Beth had and a fender bender is a sure way to get the cops interested in you. In fact, the dented rear bumper you were sporting tells me that perhaps this wasn't the first time you've pulled this stunt. Knock it off before you kill someone.
And once again this morning as the bus loaded its students at the intersection of Fairview and Main Street in Portland cars just continued to fly by the bus with its red lights flashing. What is wrong with you people? I guess at this point the word of warning has to go to the students and their parents because apparently the morning commuters DO NOT GIVE A DAMN about your kids. You know, it's dark at that time of morning and ironically, that makes the flashing lights that much more obvious....but not to the oblivious.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Which comes first?
It's the old chicken and egg dilemma. What comes first: the aggressive selfish driver or the flashy car?
The Portland Senior Center is located on Waverly Avenue. Waverly Avenue is a dead end street that is approximately 300 yards long....maybe a little more. If you don't happen to see the big blue sign out front that identifies the building, the proliferation of champagne colored Buick LeSabres and the like would be a dead giveaway that there were a lot of seniors in the area.
So why in hell was the driver of the blue Audi with CT plate 846 YCN flying by here at 50 miles an hour only to slam on his brakes at the intersection with Main Street? If you were looking to impress me, you succeeded. Unfortunately you impressed me as being a jackass.
The Portland Senior Center is located on Waverly Avenue. Waverly Avenue is a dead end street that is approximately 300 yards long....maybe a little more. If you don't happen to see the big blue sign out front that identifies the building, the proliferation of champagne colored Buick LeSabres and the like would be a dead giveaway that there were a lot of seniors in the area.
So why in hell was the driver of the blue Audi with CT plate 846 YCN flying by here at 50 miles an hour only to slam on his brakes at the intersection with Main Street? If you were looking to impress me, you succeeded. Unfortunately you impressed me as being a jackass.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Big Sour Apple
You know when I hit the road for the Big Apple this afternoon, I was feeling pretty good about life. Good enough that I was going to let a couple of minor irritations en route go by without comment.
Sorry, guys. At 5:23 pm my beloved RAV 4 came to a complete stop at 12th Avenue and 54th Street in Manhattan. Nothing worked. No emergency flashers, no windows, no radio, NOTHING. I had this problem once before about 14 months ago a the VA hospital in West Haven (another horror story). Any way, I got out of my car which was in the center lane and put up the hood to alert cars that I was in distress. While there I took a look at the battery and found that the problem was the same one I had at the VA last summer. One of the battery cables had just disintegrated so I was getting no juice from the battery. I called AAA and explained to them that I knew exactly what the problem was (I believe it was a $12 repair last time) so they would be sure to bring a cable with them and then I could be on my merry way.
So I sat and waited about 22 minutes for a tow truck which quite literally came from about 300 yards away (It wasn't called 54th St Auto for nothing). Before I recount the tale of my service from the tow truck, let me tell you what it's like to sit on the Henry Hudson Parkway with a disabled vehicle and no emergency flashers.
It's not fun.
Cars would pull up behind me, so close to my rear bumper that when they finally noticed the raised hood and the fact that I wasn't moving when the light changed, they hadn't left themselves enough room to maneuver around me. Somehow that was my fault. And their courteous reactions made that clear. Thank you, NY plate FDV 2906 for giving me the finger. Very ladylike of you. Thank you for all the horn honking NY plate 9085, MA plate 8TT 130 and NJ plate 252 ALB.
Equally disturbing ( and I hate to disclose the sex of the offenders, but the facts are the facts), 3 women sat behind me for multiple light cycles because they were so busy texting behind the wheel that they didn't notice all the cars whizzing by them on either side while my car never moved. And a special shout out to the one who finally came to and then beeped at me because she'd missed yet another green light. Oh and let's not forget the cab driver who pulled along side of me to chastise me for not having my flashers on. At least I think that's what he was babbling about...I couldn't open the power windows to hear his helpful advice.
So the tow truck finally rolls down 54th Street and the driver tells me he can't fix the cable. He has to tow me. I deduced rather quickly from the way his eyes lit up when I told him it would be a 100 mile ride that tow truck drivers get paid extra for long hauls. We finally hit the road after he picked up his buddy, dropped his buddy off, doubled back so he could drop his keys off with someone and then took a leisurely tour of the Bronx. He wanted my opinion on everything from gay marriage to legalized prostitution to the wildlife of rural Connecticut. Actually I don't think he gave a crap about my opinion. He just wanted me to keep him awake after his late night partying in Staten Island last night.
We finally got to Portland, dropped the car at the repair shop and then he wanted to take me home. Luckily I had made a phone call for MY buddy to pick me up at the garage. The tow truck driver insisted on cash payment for the extra mileage although I pointed out to him that there probably wouldn't have been any extra mileage but for all his personal errands en route. When I asked for a receipt after paying him the extra money, he acted like that was a fairly ridiculous request. Luckily my ride home arrived and being a much less trusting soul than I, she put her trusty cell phone camera to work. I'm not sure how I am supposed to use those photos going forward, but I guess it's good to know I have them.
So I'm home, my car is at the repair shop waiting for the guys to come in Monday morning and replace the damn cable, I didn't get to see FOLLIES and now the creepy tow truck driver knows where I live. So, because I ended up having a crappy night, it is time to call out the moron in the blue BMW, CT plate 894 YHN who was driving down I-95 in the Norwalk area like a bat out of hell, weaving in and out of traffic and tailgating. A trifecta. I hope the rest of your evening was as disappointing as mine. More importantly, I hope the need to prove your masculine prowess didn't cost anyone else their life.
Sorry, guys. At 5:23 pm my beloved RAV 4 came to a complete stop at 12th Avenue and 54th Street in Manhattan. Nothing worked. No emergency flashers, no windows, no radio, NOTHING. I had this problem once before about 14 months ago a the VA hospital in West Haven (another horror story). Any way, I got out of my car which was in the center lane and put up the hood to alert cars that I was in distress. While there I took a look at the battery and found that the problem was the same one I had at the VA last summer. One of the battery cables had just disintegrated so I was getting no juice from the battery. I called AAA and explained to them that I knew exactly what the problem was (I believe it was a $12 repair last time) so they would be sure to bring a cable with them and then I could be on my merry way.
So I sat and waited about 22 minutes for a tow truck which quite literally came from about 300 yards away (It wasn't called 54th St Auto for nothing). Before I recount the tale of my service from the tow truck, let me tell you what it's like to sit on the Henry Hudson Parkway with a disabled vehicle and no emergency flashers.
It's not fun.
Cars would pull up behind me, so close to my rear bumper that when they finally noticed the raised hood and the fact that I wasn't moving when the light changed, they hadn't left themselves enough room to maneuver around me. Somehow that was my fault. And their courteous reactions made that clear. Thank you, NY plate FDV 2906 for giving me the finger. Very ladylike of you. Thank you for all the horn honking NY plate 9085, MA plate 8TT 130 and NJ plate 252 ALB.
Equally disturbing ( and I hate to disclose the sex of the offenders, but the facts are the facts), 3 women sat behind me for multiple light cycles because they were so busy texting behind the wheel that they didn't notice all the cars whizzing by them on either side while my car never moved. And a special shout out to the one who finally came to and then beeped at me because she'd missed yet another green light. Oh and let's not forget the cab driver who pulled along side of me to chastise me for not having my flashers on. At least I think that's what he was babbling about...I couldn't open the power windows to hear his helpful advice.
So the tow truck finally rolls down 54th Street and the driver tells me he can't fix the cable. He has to tow me. I deduced rather quickly from the way his eyes lit up when I told him it would be a 100 mile ride that tow truck drivers get paid extra for long hauls. We finally hit the road after he picked up his buddy, dropped his buddy off, doubled back so he could drop his keys off with someone and then took a leisurely tour of the Bronx. He wanted my opinion on everything from gay marriage to legalized prostitution to the wildlife of rural Connecticut. Actually I don't think he gave a crap about my opinion. He just wanted me to keep him awake after his late night partying in Staten Island last night.
We finally got to Portland, dropped the car at the repair shop and then he wanted to take me home. Luckily I had made a phone call for MY buddy to pick me up at the garage. The tow truck driver insisted on cash payment for the extra mileage although I pointed out to him that there probably wouldn't have been any extra mileage but for all his personal errands en route. When I asked for a receipt after paying him the extra money, he acted like that was a fairly ridiculous request. Luckily my ride home arrived and being a much less trusting soul than I, she put her trusty cell phone camera to work. I'm not sure how I am supposed to use those photos going forward, but I guess it's good to know I have them.
So I'm home, my car is at the repair shop waiting for the guys to come in Monday morning and replace the damn cable, I didn't get to see FOLLIES and now the creepy tow truck driver knows where I live. So, because I ended up having a crappy night, it is time to call out the moron in the blue BMW, CT plate 894 YHN who was driving down I-95 in the Norwalk area like a bat out of hell, weaving in and out of traffic and tailgating. A trifecta. I hope the rest of your evening was as disappointing as mine. More importantly, I hope the need to prove your masculine prowess didn't cost anyone else their life.
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