Traffic-insanity worth blogging

Yrs Trly has gotten away from blogging traffic-insanity.
I probably get almost as much as I previously did, but I gave up blogging it.
Used to be I was blogging some incident of traffic-insanity every week.
I probably drive less than before my wife died, when I was taking her to the cancer-center in Rochester almost every week.
Even then I wasn’t blogging traffic-insanity like I used to. And I was probably getting as much traffic-insanity as previously.
There were incidents I blogged:
-a) One was the near-accident I witnessed in front of me on an interstate, as my leader tried to merge without looking. It was almost a side-swipe, but the approaching car blew its horn.
The would-be merger did a giant feint to the right, as if to say “where did you come from?”
Well, perhaps you should have looked before merging.
-b) There was the lady towing a horse-trailer that pulled right in front of me at an intersection.
Like stop-signs don’t apply to ladies towing horse-trailers. Then she gave me a sheepish look as I passed.
-c) There was the rusty white Ford pickup that pulled right in front of me at that same intersection.
No one was coming from the left, so I guess I’ll pull out. I doubt anyone is coming from the right, like me, for example.
His passenger saw me, and was terrified. He had looked right.
I managed to avoid all these potential accidents, but in each case I found myself saying “thank goodness I drove city-bus.”
With a bus you had to learn defensive driving; you got driving insanity all the time.
“Oh look, Dora, a bus. PULL OUT! PULL OUT!”
Right in front of me, and I gotta try to stop nine tons of hurtling steel without tossing my passengers on the floor.
Certain incidents stand out:
—1) was the black Jetta that ran me off the road on my way to work.
All because its driver was applying mascara, while reading her Demagogue & Comical, and yammering to her mother on her cellphone.
Like honey you’re supposed to approach me head-on in the opposite lane, not my lane.
“But I’m busy multitasking. And mother my husband is a bum.
So I just sent some opposing driver off into a field. That’s his problem. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
—2) was the white Ford Fiesta passing me on the sidewalk, blowing his horn while shaking his fist at me, and yelling obscenities out his open window.
The fact I had the awful temerity and unmitigated gall and horrific audacity to stop for a traffic-light impeded his progress.
—3) was the clapped-out gray Chevrolet Astrovan that cut in front of me.
A bumper-sticker announced “If Rapture occurs, this van will be unpiloted.”
I wondered if Rapture had occurred.
—4) was the time a black Jeep Grand-Cherokee blasted in front of me at a “yield” intersection.
I doubt he even looked, and then was surprised when he almost clobbered me.
I guess “yield” means “pedal-to-the-metal.”
—5) was the BMW that turned right onto a country road I was turning onto.
This wasn’t a possible accident. The BMW pulled off on the right shoulder, and then everyone inside looked at the dashboard.
“Well Gosh, Hans, the GPS says turn right here, but I don’t know this road. Do they even know what they’re talking about? Do we follow it or not?”
People keep entreating me to get a GPS, and tell me I’m obviously stupid, technically-challenged.
“The GPS is in here,” I always say, pointing to my head.
They get a GPS and question following it. Who wins, them or Garmin? The one in my head didn’t cost me anything.
It ain’t that hard to Google driving directions to an unknown location.
I ain’t havin’ no GPS yelling at me. The Keed likes to know where he’s going before he sets out.
The other day’s traffic-incident is worth blogging.
I turned into the small shopping-plaza that has the pet-grooming emporium that daycares my dog.
They daycare the dog while I work out at the nearby YMCA.
I moved to the left to begin a big swing right into a parking-slot in front of the pet-groomer.
Out of the corner of my right eye I saw Granny accelerating her black Jeep to pass me on the right.
I stopped my right-turn; thank goodness I once drove a bus.
Granny blasted past, hammer-down, through all the unused parking-slots, one of which I was aimed at.
Granny broke a slew of laws, and thank goodness I didn’t hit her. She would have been incensed to do an accident-report.
By passing me illegally on my right she saved maybe two seconds.

• My beloved wife of over 44 years died of cancer April 17th, 2012. At the time she was 68. I miss her dearly. (I’m now 69.)
• For 16&1/2 years (1977-1993) I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service (RTS) in Rochester, NY, a public employer, the transit-bus operator in Rochester and environs. My stroke October 26, 1993 ended that. I retired on medical-disability.
• “The Keed” is me, Bob Hughes, BobbaLew.