I have returned to the Great White North from my brief sojourn in the States, and due to the 18-hour drive, I had much time to think about what I was going to say about my trip. The visit itself was typical Christmas-time fare, and the drive, I suppose, was fairly typical too, but as the drive ticked me off more, I simply have to get my irritations off my chest.
The Good Creator has blessed the world with diverse creatures, all of which enrich the complex fabric of life. The highway is no different. After being on the highway for a long time (12+ hours), you start to develop a strange view of the world. Cars are not simply things to transport people around, they become animals in their own right, and the person behind the wheel is simply the brain. Like people, you don't take much notice of most of the cars around you. They keep to themselves, they are neat, reasonably clean, and they don't get in your way, just like the people you don't notice. But some cars you do notice. They are gregarious, they are covered with bumper stickers, or, in the case of the many I noticed on the way home, they have strange personality quirks. Drive long enough and you start to form relationships with others on the road, especially on a big traveling day like Dec. 26th, a time when we are all staying on the road for miles and miles.
As far as these types of noticeable drivers go, the primary irritant is The Jerk. The Jerk is the one who cuts you off, speeds up and slows down, drives really fast, and is definitely the one that, when a lane is closed ahead for construction, will drive fast in the closed lane and force his way in farther up, instead of properly getting in the queue and waiting his turn. This is The Jerk, we all hate them, even other Jerks. I am definitely not a Jerk and most people aren't, which is why they are so noticeable.
Then there are Snails. Snails are those people who so love the speed they have chosen on their cruise control that they are absolutely unwilling, unless circumstances become extreme, to change their speed. They have absolutely no concept that the left lane is for passing, not for cruising, but they feel, in their comfort at 79 mph that because the person in the right lane is only going 78.5 mph that they are, in fact, passing them. In my book, "passing" does not involve a slow creep past the other person over the course of 12 miles. It involves putting your foot on the gas and moving around them, then resuming your previous speed, just like on the back highways. On the back, two-lane highways that were once the rule in America, you couldn't exactly hang out on the left-hand side of the road or someone would come over the next hill and nail you. But with the growth of the Eisenhower Interstate System, and the invention of cruise control, Snails evolved. And who said evolution isn't real? From Snails come the term "Snail race", where two cars are, indeed, barrelling along at 78 mph, one going incrementally faster than the other, but both are tying up about 50 cars all wanting to go 80+ creating a huge highway bottleneck, and much hatred to those of us caught up in the Snail Race who have somewhere to be.
Closely related to the Snail is the Lefty. Lefties just love the left lane. They want to buy land there and retire, picket fence and all. Lefties come from all throughout the human demographic, at least according to my observations on I-70. I don't know why they like the left lane so much. Perhaps the view is better. Perhaps they have a predeliction for yellow as opposed to white. Perhaps they are just stupid, I don't know. Lefties can be, albeit probably temporarily, cured. Shooting past their right side at 90 mph typically jolts them into getting back into the right lane. But some Lefties are so committed that even this technique is unsuccessful.
While we're on the subject of passing, I must mention another type of driver, Faster-than-thou. Faster-than-thou is "pass"ive aggressive, he hates to be passed. I say "he" because this type is invariably male, and often driving a car with a macho-sounding name like "Charger" or "Mustang". Faster-than-thou actually gets mad and takes it very personally if you dare to pass him. It doesn't matter that he was happily cruising along at 75 mph before you came along at 80 mph, no no. While passing him, you might as well roll down your window, spit, toss and egg on him, and flip him off while you go on your way - you won't make him any angrier. Faster-than-thou, previously happy at 75 mph, now decides he has to go 83 mph. He passes you, and often makes a point about it. I can't explain this part - it has to do with being on the road too long. Cars get body language after a while. Faster-than-thou can only be cured by the Lamborghini, whose engine you can feel a quarter-mile away, tearing by him at 140 mph as if he were standing still. I have actually seen, in my younger years, a Faster-than-thou pathetically attempt to catch such a speed-demon, but then give up. Such is the heirarchy of the highway. It is like a nature show.
Related to, but the antithesis of Faster-than-thou, is The Duckling. Ducklings will NEVER pass you, not even when you slow down to 30 mph. Ducklings love you. You are their mommy. You were the first car they met when they got on the highway, and they are going to stick with you through thick and thin. Ducklings like to stay right behind you (some are more polite about this than others). Sometimes I wonder if I have a new Stephen King novel written on the back of my car that The Duckling just has to finish before going around me. Often Ducklings are tailgaters, which is why they are so annoying. I have actually been on an empty highway with a Duckling tailgating me. I had to pull off the road at the next exit to get rid of her. Ducklings are often women - aggressive enough to tailgate, too frightened to pass.
And then, there are the mythical Dumb Bunnies. You will rarely get to check one of these off your highway watcher checklist. The Dumb Bunny has an assortment of all of the above characteristics. Dumb Bunnies defy analysis. Sometimes their actions seem so purposeful, like a Duckling, and other times they just seem really stupid, like a Lefty. I was plagued by a Dumb Bunny from Effingham to Indianapolis. She was driving a blue Jeep Liberty, brunette... looked permed. I actually wrote down her lisence plate, but it is the car. Regardless, she was from Indiana. She exhibited traits from each of these groups. I tried to scrape her off on in a Snail Race, but that didn't work. I tried to slow down to get rid of her, but then she became a Duckling. I sped up to get away from her, but she persued me. You know, I think it was more a case of Highway Paranoia (you've been on the highway so long you feel as though it belongs to you, and all of these people are just driving on it to get in your way and that they are purposefully doing things TO YOU) but the bonus to the Dumb Bunny was she distracted me from being bored and she also led me to thinking about these classifications. I was glad to be rid of her though.
So I am home now, safe with the Forest Cats (Roo and Free went on the trip too, but I'll speak of that later). For now, my paper procrastinating must come to an end.
Keep on keepin' on.
