The Epitome of Unnecessary Political Correctness
For some reason, there are a number of people who pair anger and automobile. Not me. When I get behind the wheel, I’m either calmly thinking, or rocking out to Muse at hazardous volumes. I enjoy driving because it gives me a chance to do both those activities without feeling like I could be doing something more productive (ie: rocking out to Muse at hazardous volumes while playing drums). The road has always been a neutral, occasionally amusing place for me.
As with anything though, there are exceptions to the rule. And as it is, they are not good. There are two things about the road that annoy me endlessly. One of them is old people. No doubt, this is a commonplace pet-peeve for young drivers such as myself. I realize blue hairs have their excuses for driving at awe-inspiringly slow speeds (lack of reflexes or something), but let’s face it- driving on Horizon Ridge next to Macdonald Ranch Sun City* is a surefire set up for extreme irritability and momentary reevaluation of social security.
There is one thing however, that just really, really gets me. They call it the three-way stop. I hate this thing. It is the worst. It embodies almost everything I dislike. Here’s why:
You’re driving along in a residential area, minding your own business, not a care in the world, and then you come upon the familiar stop sign. You obey its command, sure, but then you notice something. There’s only three directions of pavement here- the one you’re headed on, the one opposite of that, and a third one pointed 90 degrees at either direction opening into your street. There’s no fourth way. WHY ON EARTH IS THERE A STOP SIGN?!?!?! You pass by this situation completely octagon-less most of the time. Usually the guy on the third street can handle himself. But noOo, apparently not on this street. The intersection demands you sacrifice time and gas for this person, all out of some ill-conceived ideology of equality. It can’t just be the one guy who has to stop his car. Everybody has to stop their car. Otherwise it’s just not fair.
Do our civil engineers think we live in the Soviet Union? Is my name Boris? No! This is America. We don’t pick up the slack for other people unless we feel like it.** Don’t get me wrong here. I know blogging is (was) a trendy medium for pretending socialism is cool, but road designers with marxist agendas annoy me without end and I must speak the truth here. And don’t get me wrong either. I believe that the occasional three-way stop might be necessary on a street with heavy traffic just like I believe in feeding the homeless or giving to charity, or possibly mild redistribution of wealth. It’s those residential TWS’s though that make my blood boil. If I had the funding I would start a political group dedicated to ridding the world of these institutions. They’re like the rules at a childhood friend’s house. They made NO sense. Their mom was a lunatic. She said things like “Youngest first” and “You need to be in bed by 7:30.” Idiots!
The TWS is simply a waste of time. We’ve all been on the third street, acknowledging our disposition as someone who might have to wait a little while. I got over it. I think everybody else did too. We’ve all taken the left-hand turn. It might have taken 30 seconds. Not a big deal. As for me, I will be proudly california-stopping every TWS I encounter. I recommend you do the same.
*Sorry London Chapter, that’s an esoteric Vegas reference you will not understand.
**Some people won’t acknowledge the tongue in my cheek. Alas, asterisks.
