right of way
Driving this weekend on the Jersey Turnpike behind a series of drivers who stayed in the far left lane whether they were passing someone or not, whether there was a string of cars on their tail or not, I wondered when the rules of the road stopped being taught.
I remember when my father taught me to drive, first in the parking lot of an abandoned shopping center on the outskirts of Kansas City, then on the back roads around farm fields and finally the broad lanes of Interstate 70. He impressed upon me there and then, with the stalwart authority of Atticus Finch, the important lessons of dealing with your fellow drivers on the road: signal before your change lanes, look over both of your shoulders before you merge, and always keep right except to pass. He said it with such authority and conviction I feared that I would be swiftly run off the road by the rest of the driving world if I ever forgot any of these rules. They seemed to be as immutable as the earth's roundness, hard work and taxes.
But the roads these days tell me that other people weren't taught to drive by my dad or Atticus Finch. Driver after driver (young and old, male and female, black, brown and white) drove along in the left lane, eyes straight ahead, minds complacently on who knows what, while frustrated drivers swung around them on the right and back into the lane in front of them. Bob philosophized that maybe they had no clue about the rules of the road. Maybe, as each of us whipped around them muttering "asshole" under our breaths, maybe these brainless lane hogs were thinking all of the other drivers were the assholes for riding their tail or honking or speeding around them. Maybe.
On the subway this morning, as happens so many mornings, passengers stood motionless in train doorways, inside and out, expecting the exiting passengers to squeeze through a narrow little crevice between them one at a time. The conductor could turn blue reciting "please stand back and allow passengers to exit the train." The exiting passengers could turn red repeating "excuse me." It doesn't matter. The guy inside the train doorway will stay planted firmly, headphones on, back and legs spread as if the door were still closed against them. And the people on the platform will stay transfixed directly in front of the door, with their eyes on the empty seat they've spotted like a dog eyeing a pork chop. No one has told them, and they can't figure out for themselves, that this is not only bad manners, it's inefficient. No one has placed a gentle but firm hand on their shoulds and said, "Scout, Jem, step back and let the lady off first. There will be plenty of time for all of us to board."
On the sidewalks above ground, as well, if we all kept right except to pass, if slow pedestrians didn't walk side-by-side, we'd all move along way more efficiently. But people stroll all directions, regardless of left or right, three and four side-by-side without making room for the person walking toward them. There's no rhyme or reason by age or social status. I want to think the threesome walking abreast toward me the width of the sidewalk are nothing more than entitled yuppie brats, until the next crew of schmoes behind them does the same.
And at the intersections it's caos as all forms of transportation come in contact with one another, everyone honking or yelling or gesturing wildly at one another. The pedestrians hate the drivers, the drivers hate the pedestrians, and everyone hates the bicyclists. Each thinks the other is the asshole; no one is aware of his or her own responsibility in the situation.
Despite this global world I live in, people don't seem to have as much of a sense that we share the world and we have a responsibility to get along with each other, certainly not as much as my small-town father had. It seems like everyone thinks they have the right of way and their rights are being infringed upon when they are simply being asked to think of someone other than themselves. And that goes for all of us, from pedestrians and drivers, to customers and sales people, to bosses, assistants and coworkers, to the President of the United States and other world leaders, all of us driving in the wrong lane, eyes complacently straight ahead, dismissing as assholes the people whose rights we're driving right over. We all need an Atticus Finch tapping us on the shoulder and making us stop and think.
I remember when my father taught me to drive, first in the parking lot of an abandoned shopping center on the outskirts of Kansas City, then on the back roads around farm fields and finally the broad lanes of Interstate 70. He impressed upon me there and then, with the stalwart authority of Atticus Finch, the important lessons of dealing with your fellow drivers on the road: signal before your change lanes, look over both of your shoulders before you merge, and always keep right except to pass. He said it with such authority and conviction I feared that I would be swiftly run off the road by the rest of the driving world if I ever forgot any of these rules. They seemed to be as immutable as the earth's roundness, hard work and taxes.
But the roads these days tell me that other people weren't taught to drive by my dad or Atticus Finch. Driver after driver (young and old, male and female, black, brown and white) drove along in the left lane, eyes straight ahead, minds complacently on who knows what, while frustrated drivers swung around them on the right and back into the lane in front of them. Bob philosophized that maybe they had no clue about the rules of the road. Maybe, as each of us whipped around them muttering "asshole" under our breaths, maybe these brainless lane hogs were thinking all of the other drivers were the assholes for riding their tail or honking or speeding around them. Maybe.
On the subway this morning, as happens so many mornings, passengers stood motionless in train doorways, inside and out, expecting the exiting passengers to squeeze through a narrow little crevice between them one at a time. The conductor could turn blue reciting "please stand back and allow passengers to exit the train." The exiting passengers could turn red repeating "excuse me." It doesn't matter. The guy inside the train doorway will stay planted firmly, headphones on, back and legs spread as if the door were still closed against them. And the people on the platform will stay transfixed directly in front of the door, with their eyes on the empty seat they've spotted like a dog eyeing a pork chop. No one has told them, and they can't figure out for themselves, that this is not only bad manners, it's inefficient. No one has placed a gentle but firm hand on their shoulds and said, "Scout, Jem, step back and let the lady off first. There will be plenty of time for all of us to board."
On the sidewalks above ground, as well, if we all kept right except to pass, if slow pedestrians didn't walk side-by-side, we'd all move along way more efficiently. But people stroll all directions, regardless of left or right, three and four side-by-side without making room for the person walking toward them. There's no rhyme or reason by age or social status. I want to think the threesome walking abreast toward me the width of the sidewalk are nothing more than entitled yuppie brats, until the next crew of schmoes behind them does the same.
And at the intersections it's caos as all forms of transportation come in contact with one another, everyone honking or yelling or gesturing wildly at one another. The pedestrians hate the drivers, the drivers hate the pedestrians, and everyone hates the bicyclists. Each thinks the other is the asshole; no one is aware of his or her own responsibility in the situation.
Despite this global world I live in, people don't seem to have as much of a sense that we share the world and we have a responsibility to get along with each other, certainly not as much as my small-town father had. It seems like everyone thinks they have the right of way and their rights are being infringed upon when they are simply being asked to think of someone other than themselves. And that goes for all of us, from pedestrians and drivers, to customers and sales people, to bosses, assistants and coworkers, to the President of the United States and other world leaders, all of us driving in the wrong lane, eyes complacently straight ahead, dismissing as assholes the people whose rights we're driving right over. We all need an Atticus Finch tapping us on the shoulder and making us stop and think.
3 Comments:
Honey, come visit the South. It's going downhill at a pace, but for the moment we still follow a majority of the rules of the road, sidewalk and line.
Except for the truckers - they won't even bat an eyelash as they run you into the manure truck on the side of the road.
(Thanks for visiting Dottie while I'm there!)
I think the rules still apply back home in KC as well, though I must admit I haven't driven there in a decade or more. I do notice, however, when I go back home how wide and empty the highways are...like the surface of the moon.
Thanks for keeping Dot's column up and running this weeks. It's consoling to go there and find something delightful to read.
couldn't agree more.
equally bad are folks abusing government notices on their windsheilds to park in no-parking spots just because it's convenient for them. i sat in Amazement as some well-to-do person sat down to breakfast, in plain view of his beloved classic automobile, which he double-parked Around a huge puddle and moments later myself and several onlookers expected him to be asked to move as an NYPD patrol car came alongside to ticket him. he stepped outside, showed the government signage in his window and NYPD left him alone, no questions asked.
even if it wasn't a government employee tag, the man clearly had no problems exiting and reentering the diner to interrupt the cops' ticketing of his car. so handicapped is b.s. in this case.
i calmed finished my breakfast, and made a point to say to him clearly and plainly: "it's so nice that city ordinances apply equally to everyone." his reply? "have a nice day, jerk."
dick.
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