Dear red Cadillac driver on the Crosstown in Edina: How about giving the plows a little room to operate? Yes, you may get to Don Pablos 2 seconds later. That’s time well spent making the roads safer for everyone.
Here’s a tip: if you’re going to put a mattress on the roof of your car, either using something stronger than bungies or stay of the interstate.
I was cruising down I-94 the other day – and by cruising, I mean driving and NOT in the Sen Larry Craig sense of the word – when I saw a car ahead with a mattress pointing at the sky. Drivers were freaking out all over because it looked like the mattress was going to launch at any minute. Not good.
Here’s what it looked like after a truck pulled in front of the guy to slow him down and potentially save lives:
I tried to get a good shot of the mattress straining the crap out of the bungies, but this is the best I could get without causing an accident of my own:
The almost airborne mattress is two cars behind me in this shot. I actually pointed my camera phone into the rear-view mirror to grab this shot rather than turning around 180-degrees in relatively fast moving congested traffic. Safety first.
It urged motorists to obey traffic regulations, drive with a moral sense, and to pray when behind the wheel.
Cardinal Renato Martino, who heads the office, told a news conference that the Vatican felt it necessary to address the pastoral needs of motorists because driving had become such a big part of contemporary life.
So let me get this straight. There are people who drive like idiots, and these idiots are now going to change their driving behavior based on a set of rules published by some dude in Italy?
I’m going to keep a closer eye on how often I’m cut off by Jesus fish SUVs in light of this absurdity.
Roadguy is the best blog on the Star Tribune. If I’m wrong out that, let me know which is better.
Here’s a great comment Roadguy received from a reader about a chain smoking SUV driver on 35W in the Northern ‘burbs. I have a feeling that I don’t have much in common with this woman:
Roadguy Â» Blog Archive Â» Mailbag plus: Turn left already, try that ashtray, and a reassuring sight
Last night, I saw a woman driving an SUV on northbound 35W lighting a cigarette around County Road E. She took a total of 2Â½ minutes to enjoy the cigarette, then threw it out the window of her truck. As appalled as I was, I had no idea that sheâ€™d actually light up another cigarette just 2 minutes later, and do exactly the same thing! â€¦ After finishing the second cigarette, she actually lit a third, and after sucking the last bit of brown crap from it, threw it out the window too!! She polished off and threw out onto the highway three cigarettes all within roughly 10 minutes! â€¦
Stressful day, perhaps?
Or, just another day in the life of a chimney?
This guy is not wasteful when it comes to fuel efficiency:
He’s refined his driving technique over the years to wring 59 MPG out of a plain Honda Accord and clocked over 180 MPG with a hydrid Honda Insight. Here’s a taste of how he drives:
I took this shot on the Crosstown heading Westbound this morning just before merging with traffic from 35W South. The station wagon was really putting along (even compared to my Saturn), and while waiting patiently behind it, I noticed a yellow bag on the roof that appeared to be attached to the roof rack. While studying the bag, then the dogs is the back of the wagon, I realized it was a bag full of fresh dog poop.
The driver was probably coming from the dog park near Fort Snelling off Hiawatha.
It was really whipping around, so I thought it was attached to the roof rack. I started to figure that the poop’s owner (or person responsible for the poop) had tied it to the roof rack so he could dispose it of at home (why not at the dog park wasn’t clear).
Well, it turns out it WASN’T attached, or at least not very well. It flew off the roof and landed smack dab in the middle of the road. I wanted to swerve, but there wasn’t anywhere to go, being on the ramp transitioning from 62 to 62/35W.
I hit the poop.
1. I had two cars die while driving, resulting in tows of over 100 miles . . . in the same summer. One died around 150 miles North of Fairbanks, AK. The other near Denali National Park.
2. I went tanning in a tanning bed. The first and only time I did it, I ended up with red stripes on my back like the American flag. It was very relaxing until the burn set in over night. I still have two more free tans at that place in Green Bay.
3. I flew a Douglas DC-3 North of the Arctic Circle. No take-offs or landings. But I did bank my way between light clouds on a mostly sunny summer day.
4. I was the photographer for a photo shoot of two men in jock straps. The outtakes were awesome. The expressions on the faces on the photo developers were even better.
5. I helped edit a book for a guy I had never met or even spoken on the phone with. We met on a stock message board, had a common interest in Google, and we clicked. Carly thinks it’s strange that I have “online friends” but I wouldn’t be writing this right now if I hadn’t been tagged by an “online friend” I hope to meet sometime over a Reuben Sandwich.
6. I invited an Internet porn star into my apartment. I used to live on Excelsior Blvd. in Minneapolis near the Whole Foods. One night, I swung down to pick up the mail at the front of the building and noticed a woman standing in the entryway. I let her in, only to find out that she didn’t live in the building (security breach). She seems like a total character so I invited her up to the apartment I shared with a friend, Ben. Ben was surfing the web when we entered the apartment. I grabbed beers for all of us and she started talking to Ben about how she had a web site. Ben looked it up, and sure enough, she had her own porn site. She wasn’t exactly attractive. Eventually, I went to bed, leaving Ben to deal with the porn “star.” He decided to drive her home, but she was having a hard time remembering where she lived so it took a looooong time while I was cutting zzzzz’s. I believe this was on a Monday night. Moral: don’t bring porn “stars” home.