Well, here's a picture that brings a few words to mind... words I won't elaborate, because my blog is G-rated and my kids read it! But, if I had a pet-peeve section of the blog, this post would definitely qualify!
We've all seen this one, right? Pretty universal meaning... say it with me, "right lane ends, merge left".
It's far from ideal, especially with gas prices what they are, but I have a 32-mile each-way commute to work. I needed a job and they aren't too plenteous, so I have to make the best of 64 miles a day and frequent shopper status at the gas station. But, what adds to the inconvenience is that none of my commute is via interstate. Oh, I have a very direct and time-saving route that runs practically from my backyard to the front door of my employer... it's known as the Ohio Turnpike, but being frugal as I am, I choose to not increase my commuting expense by the $3.50 in daily tolls. So, I spend one hour each way, mostly on two-lane highways... not ideal, but relatively tolerable.
Which brings me to the above sign... FIVE times each day, to be exact... twice in the morning, and thrice in the evening. Without fail, I contend daily (from my proactive position in the left lane) with two interpretations of this sign:
- Casually ride the right lane until the very last minute, then merge left, as though you're the only car on the road. Or, the more popular...
- Race up the right lane, passing as many cars as possible, then squeeze left at the very last minute, as though you own the road.
Each option requires me (who proactively grabbed the left lane WAY before the right lane ended) to yield the right-of-way to the MORONS in the right lane (if you, Dear Reader, happen to be one of them, I make no apology for calling you a MORON!) Is it just me, or is this backwards? I thought I had the right-of-way since my lane is continuous? I thought the idea of merging left was to yield and blend in with the left-laners as unobtrusively as possible, thereby fostering an atmosphere of cooperation and manners? Nope, instead I'm expected to make room for their sorry butts, and they get mad at me if I don't just roll out the red carpet and make it easy on them to cut me off and crowd me out (fingers, gestures, horns...)!
Really?
Didn't we all learn in elementary school not to cut in line? How does a few thousand pounds of steel and several horses under the hood make you feel that it's perfectly acceptable to become a highway bully and throw everyday courtesy out the window like the finger you just waved at me? Why don't you try that at Home Depot... just zoom around the burly contractors in line and zip your cart into the register just as the front customer pulls away? Yeah, I didn't think so!
I can't really do it, but there are times when I just want to channel the spirit of TOWANDA! If you're saying, "who's TOWANDA?", it's likely that you've never seen the movie, Fried Green Tomatoes...
"Face it girls, I'm older and I have more insurance!"
Right lane ends, merge left... perhaps I'll start sporting a red sunvisor as I drive my 64 miles per day... TOWANDA!!!
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