Blog Archives

An Open Letter to the Red Truck On My Road

English: Steve Olliges and the Team Ford Troph...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Dear Red Truck,

We passed one another on my way home today. You probably didn’t notice; you drive a big truck and I drive a mere car. I saw you coming toward me on the one-and-a-half lane road while I was still far from you. I didn’t worry about it. Every day I pass people on my road and it’s quite uneventful.

As we careened toward each other, I noticed that you didn’t leave the middle of the road. That’s still ok. People do that all the time and get on their side of the road with plenty of time to spare. However, you never felt the need to do that.

Look, I get it. You’re bigger than me. Your truck cost more than what I make teaching for an entire year, so you dare me to hit you. My little car would be plowed into a pancake.

So, I chose to drive with two wheels off the road, rather than smashing into you. It’s cool. A little adrenaline rush from driving through gravel and dirt at 50 mph is good for you once in a while.

Now that I think of it, I’m pretty sure we’ve met before. You’re probably the guy who forced me to drive in the berm the other day because you refused to create any space for me when I was merging. Also, you might be the guy who squeezed between another car and me, then passed a truck on the right while it was already getting into the right lane to let you pass. You drove into the berm at 75 mph anyway and almost caused a multiple vehicle pile-up.

You know what would be even more fun next time? We should play chicken. Let’s both drive in the middle of the road with the pedal to the floor.

Or, even better: let’s go to the gas station, fill up, and drive until we run out. Yeah, that’s what I thought. Suck my MPG.

Kisses,

Facetious Firecracker

Advertisements

A completely true scary story for my two remaining readers

Three months ago, I had thousands of readers every day and this blog had the opportunity to become somewhat successful. So, I did what any intelligent blogger would do and updated every day completely abandoned it for months. I expect that my remaining audience of two people (probably my sister and my mother-in-law) wonder where I went.

Well, folks, in case you have forgotten – I teach marching band. My family and friends refer to these four months of the year endearingly in such terms as the “marching band shell” and the like. In one week, I will emerge from the shell and will join my colleagues in gleeful shouts of “TGIF!” because I’ll get to work 8 hour shifts rather than up to 18 hours on Fridays.

My poor blog fell by the wayside due to exhaustion and lack of inspiration. That was, until last night when something happened that was worth breaking my writer’s block.

Husband and I decided to go out to eat and took the back roads on the way home. It was completely dark by this time and we turned right onto a country road. This road is so country, even the Beverly Hillbillies would call its inhabitants rednecks. Honey Boo-Boo is too good to live on this road.

A minivan coming from the opposite direction turned to follow us onto this road. As they turned, the driver began to turn the headlights on and off, flicked the brights on and off, and toyed with various combinations of headlights and emergency flashers.

“What the hell is wrong with this person?” Husband asked me.

“I don’t know, but they’re really freaking me out,” I replied.

Finally, the van’s driver turned off their headlights and left their flashers on, then sped up until they were almost touching our back bumper.

“I’m losing this guy,” Husband decided, and hit the accelerator. We flew down the road, far from the creepy van.

The van’s driver accelerated too, and soon they were right behind us again. At this point, I reached into my purse and found my cell phone in case I had to call 911. My imagination began to create scenes from horror movies and worst case scenarios. I started to wish we had a gun in the car.

About 5 minutes later, the van suddenly slowed down and stopped following us. We watched in the mirror as the van turned onto another road, once again putting on a light show with combinations of headlights, brights, and flashers. Both of us breathed a sigh of relief, and luckily that was the last we saw of the van.

Honestly, that’s the most exciting thing to happen to me lately, so it’s probably good that I haven’t written in a while, anyway. You hear enough mundane stories on Facebook as it is.

Well, I do have one other thing to talk about. I downloaded the new Muse album titled “The 2nd Law” a couple weeks ago. All of the music snobs of the world are in an uproar about it, calling it rubbish. I’ll admit there are a few songs on it that don’t give me the warm fuzzies or anything, but overall, I think it’s a great album and I don’t regret the $14 I spent on it.

Maybe it’s the musical training I have that causes me to analyze a song in much more detail than the average listener. When I listen to a song, my brain tears apart every track, analyzes the harmonic progressions, and picks out every little instrument and voice in the background. Matthew Bellamy is doing things with music that frankly, I don’t hear happening anymore in music. Who else these days is using an 80-piece orchestra or a choir in rock songs? Muse has a brilliant talent in knowing how to build a song from a whisper to a dramatic explosion in the matter of 2 minutes.

Most of the criticism is coming from long-time fans who call the album sold out pop, just because the band is experimenting with electronic sounds and songs that are inspired by dubstep. If you watch the making of the album videos that come with the deluxe version on iTunes, you can see that every sound is still created organically by the band’s instruments. There is nothing fake about this music. I guarantee you don’t hear any songs in this style on Top 40 radio that don’t use synthesizers and computers to create these same sounds. In my opinion, this is true talent.

Watch Muse on youtube to see them performing these new songs live. They sound just like the album versions. Matthew Bellamy sings in tune. Chris Wolstenholme sings background vocals in perfect harmony. Dom Howard is a percussion beast. The most impressive part for me is how well Matthew plays difficult lead guitar solos while singing in the top register of his voice with an unrelated melodic line.

Another criticism for the album revolves around the fact that there isn’t exactly a theme within the genre of the songs. They jump around quite a bit in terms of their sound. You know what? I think that’s one of the best characteristics of Muse. In my opinion, a band is truly talented when they can be so versatile in their sound. I like when a band’s songs don’t all sound the same.

Watch the following video and tell me these guys aren’t talented.

 

Gloating is definitely worth $79 plus installation

Husband is an excellent driver. He can back a trailer with the greatest of maneuverability skills and has never been in an accident. Actually, he taught me to drive and I’d like to think I’m a decent driver, as well. Still, I’m a woman and sexism is alive and well when it comes to driving.

Last night, we went bowling with Sister and Sister’s Fiance, who will be known as D in this post. In order to sit in the back and watch some ridiculous video about farting, they wanted me to drive. On a side note, this video involved women sniffing each other’s farts and they used my auxiliary port to connect the phone to my car’s speakers. It made for an amusing drive, especially since I only had the audio side of it. Sorry to those of you who have a maturity level higher than that of a 10-year-old.

Anyway, I get stupidly self-conscious when I’m the driver and the boys are in the car. Both of them are critical of Sister’s and my driving skills and I always feel like they’re analyzing every move I make. This isn’t in my head. When we went over a set of railroad tracks a little faster than I meant, I saw the look they shared in my rearview mirror. You know, the one that says, “Only penises should be behind the wheel.” Sometimes they even make comments out loud. “Yeah, that’s why I installed the premium brake pads,” Husband remarked to D when I made a turn. Sister and I just roll our eyes and ignore the comments. There is some truth to what they’re saying and we know it. After all, I may never have caused a wreck, but I did pull the bumper off my old car by backing into a friend’s flower pot in their driveway.

This morning, Husband was driving and started to make a right turn to park on the side of the street. As he turned, I thought, He’s turning awfully sharp. But I didn’t say anything. A few seconds later, there was a loud thump as the right side of the car lurched onto the curb and back down. We pulled over to park and I stared at him in disbelief. He NEVER does anything like that.

“What the hell? Did you really just drive on the curb?”

“Whoops…” was all he said in reply.

“I never want to hear you mock my driving again,” I retorted.

“Oh, well. I’m sure it’s fine. I hit it on the flat part. There’s no way it did anything.”

I opened the passenger door and heard an unmistakable sound.

Pssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh……..

The look of horror and embarrassment on his face was completely worth any trouble the flat tire would cause. We got out and inspected the damage. Somehow, the curb had put a hole in the side wall.

Fortunately, Husband is extremely handy (he’s actually a mechanic) and was able to change the tire with no issues. When we got home, he looked up the price of a new tire and told me, “Well, I guess tomorrow when I get off work, I’ll take your car in to get two new tires.”

“Damn right you will,” I said. “You’re the one who broke it, after all.”

When we had those crazy windy storms a couple weeks ago, we lost our trash can. It was my fault because I left it outside and forgot it was out there until I saw it flying away as I watched through the window. Husband has been teasing me mercilessly since then, insisting that I owe him a trash can and I need to save my pennies until I can replace it.

He now says that we’re even. An eye for an eye, a trash can for a tire.

 

Apparently your new vehicle didn’t come with that fancy “turn signal” option.

Hey you. Yes, you. Driver from Ohio. It’s time for us to have a little chat.

You see, for quite a while I’ve been meaning to write about this particular frustration of mine and I’m finally feeling inspired, so get ready. For some reason, approximately 50% of Ohio drivers have no clue how to work these things we call automobiles.

Let’s start with turn signals. The purpose of a turn signal, in case you aren’t aware, is to give the other drivers some notice that you’re going to slow down. Putting on your signal as you’re halfway through your turn DOES NOT HELP ME. I don’t give two flying geese whether you’re going left or right. Actuate that bugger about 200 feet before you have to turn so I don’t plow into your backside. I think we’d both appreciate that. While I have your attention, non-turn-signal-user, let’s talk about lane changes. Use it. Just do it. If flipping the turn signal lever is so exhausting to you, we have bigger problems to discuss than this. What if I’m getting into the middle lane and I don’t know that you’re going to do the same thing? I promise that I will punch you in the back of your head if you hit me for that reason.

Our next lesson involves an Ohio law that for some reason, many of you struggle with. Are we all aware that it is law to have your lights on when you have your wipers on? Driving in the rain with no lights on is about as intelligent as brushing your teeth with battery acid. Part of that same law requires you to get in the other lane when a tow truck or police officer is on the side of the road. Seriously. You don’t need to pass me on the right just because I won’t go 75 mph. I’m trying to avoid going to jail because I ran over a cop, you nincompoop.

Okay. Speed. There is no reason that you need to go 80mph unless someone in your car is about to give birth. When both lanes are moving at 65 during rush hour, driving .75″ from my bumper is not going to magically give me the ability to make the semi in front of me disappear. What’s your freaking hurry, anyway? Are you not happy with your current fuel mileage? You need to go 80 so you get even less for your money? Weaving back and forth between people is not getting you there any faster, either. Most of the time when I follow someone who’s doing that, we end up about 2 cars apart at the exit ramp. I’m so glad that you risked your life and everyone’s around you so you could get to your destination 10 seconds earlier. You get a cookie and a gold star.

STOP. TEXTING. If you kill me, I will haunt you forever by singing the Song That Never Ends. And it will never end.

Here is how merging (during rush hour when we’re barely moving) is supposed to work: just like in kindergarten, we take turns. We let someone from the ramp in, then we go and so on. Semi trucks are big. They need room to get in. Don’t be a dick. Leave some space and let them in. I guarantee if that dude loses his cool, his truck will run right over your SUV. You will lose. The main point is that people need to quit being rude and try being courteous on the road for once. We’re all adults. Try to act like it.

Rain does not equal temporary amnesia of driving skills. Every time it rains, there are about 5 wrecks in our area. Slow down, don’t be an idiot, turn on your lights as mentioned before, and leave some space in front of you. Not difficult. Go on with life.

On a similar note, you can NOT drive the same way in snow as you can on dry roads, in case you hadn’t noticed. Freaking out because you’re sliding on that black ice doesn’t do any good, nor does slamming on your brakes and turning the wheel. Every year, the freeways look like the Winter Olympics bobsled competition. Most of the people chilling in the ditches are there because of stupidity.

So, to sum it up:

1) Use your signal.

2) Quit being an impatient jerk.

3) Don’t be an idiot.

Happy trails.

Bad Driver

(Photo credit: Akoaraisin)