Canadian Driver

I was thinking about road rage today. Some people really are getting out of hand about it. Last night on the news they had a short blab about it. There are two cases from this past year, just in my area (about an hour out of even the extreme edge of anything that can be called Toronto). Both cases have people who are still being treated for injuries in road rage cases, one happened in April and the other July. That's months ago and police are still handling them, people are still healing from them. That's crazy.

People who tend to get that angry should not be driving. They should also learn that not everything is about themselves.

"That car cut ME off." Did they really cut you off? Or did they just goof up and try to get moved over into another lane. Was it really personal? Did they get to know you first and then cut you off. Don't make it all about you. You just happened to be there.

The only time I get annoyed while driving is when people drive too close behind me. I drive an older car (older than any children alive as children become teenagers at the age of 13, cars just become relics). That car isn't always happy about being on the road. Sometimes it doesn't feel all too eager to speed up after the red light, sometimes it is quite happy to drive AT the speed limits. Usually we are both pretty happy about that part, I don't want a ticket. Anyway, I often get people driving behind me who try to push me to go faster. Go around me people. Don't try to make me do something I don't want to do, don't be a road jerk. You have options other than shining your headlights in my face or trying to read the tag on the back of my shirt. Go around and get lost.

There, all my road rage has been released now. I feel so much better. Luckily I didn't have to go anywhere today. I didn't even go out to uncover the car from the snow that avalanched down upon us last night. Poor car, I'm so glad I don't live outside all year.

Not tonight, I have a headache.

My car is turning traitor. We've been having such a nice building relationship and now, it's giving me some kind of brush off. I know it's a male car. Zack, my nephew, told me. He named it too "Red Eyes, Black Dragon". I think that's how it goes.

Anyway, for three days in a row the 'service engine soon' light has been coming on. I added oil the first day. The second day I bought coolant but didn't know where to stick it. So, I took Red in for service. I paid $30 to have the oil, air, filter treatment. I don't spend that kind of money on any beauty treatments for myself.

Anyway, I drove away from there thinking things were going to be okay again. Red and I would go back to our previous dependable relationship. But, no, what's this! That light is on again!

So, betrayed by my car. Of course it's the long weekend here so I won't be able to take Red in for more plastic surgery until Tuesday or Wednesday.

I feel so alone. If I had money I'd go out looking at other cars.

I drove the old Ford truck today. These days it looks more like something you would leave out in the back 40 acres for picking up hay bales now and then. It does seem to run ok, I didn't have any trouble with it. I thought I might when I got my first real look at it. I hadn't seen it since Todd and I drove around in it while we were still dating. I guess that is 3 years ago, or more. Poor old truck, I felt sorry for it.

It was "interesting" to drive. I can't pick another word. Not challenging exactly, I didn't have any real problems. It was exciting. All that horse power (all 8 or so of them) and the hugeness of the truck itself. When I stood outside the truck it was taller than I am. Just to get in I had to half climb up to the seat. Rufus, as I began to call him, could easily drive right over most of those other cars on the road and I would have just thought it was roadkill.

Driving Rufus was fun, if a little too exciting, around some of those corners. Rufus just has so much power, one tap on the gas and he wants to fly off the handle. At one tight corner I thought the whole truck was going to tip over and tumble down into the ditch.

On the deserted backroad, well paved but no cars or houses, I let Rufus have his head. I could tell he wanted to all day, he was just holding back. Just a bit of pressure on the gas and Rufus surged forward with a roar. I took it up to just over 120 K. Rufus is old but I could tell he would have liked me to let him race and hit that 140 K mark where the speedometer ends and its just Rufus and the bare roadway ahead. But I held him back, images of small animals and pedestrians pushing themselves into my mind.

I'd definitely take Rufus out on another date. Beat up as he is, he had a powerful, masterly style. I told him, if he was a real man I'd go for him, all the way.