Here we are 34 days into 2015 and only my first posting this year. I said from the outset that I would only publish when I had something to share and/or say. Today, my friends, is that day.
I knew today something was brewing. That some kind of shit might go down. Call it a premonition or a sixth sense. But it all started with the merge onto I-95 this morning. Actually, it started before that. There was the incident at the all-way stop sign. The lady in the beat up sedan and myself arrived at the stop sign simultaneously. As proper driving etiquette would dictate I intended to yield to the car to my left. The lady. But!!! She insisted that I go. WHAT??? A simple act of kindness and courtesy from a complete stranger? By an African-American female? In Philadelphia? Where whitey is the devil. WTF is going on here.
Well, that simple act was short lived. When I got to the Great Merge at Princeton Avenue all bets were off. Due to the forever ongoing widening and traffic pattern changing construction along I-95 there are few places to access I-95 and none more dangerous and stressing than the Princeton Avenue on-ramp.
I entered into the queue with the rest of the poor bastards who need to access and travel this hellish nightmare highway. Most mornings the two lanes that feed from two converging roads form a very coordinated pas de deux of shiny metal. This morning that was not the case. The right merge was more interested in dueling and outgunning the left merge. As fate would have it, I was in the left. I am always in the left merge. As I always strive to be the conscientious and less contentious driver due to the unsettling knowledge that some of these assholes carry guns and are not afraid to use them, I conceded to the hulking beat-up POS white Chevy or Ford work van who was just not going to acquiesce to the left merging lane. Matter of fact he intended to get in front of me at all costs. (I.e., run my little red Jeepster into the cement divider to my left, if he had to.) The lane is yours, my friend. I'm in no hurry to get to work or to be injured or die today.
I had made the decision over a year ago to not be part of the stressful rat race rush to get to work. I even went as far as to shut off my alarm. I wake up when I wake up. More often, it's early because the cat's belly is on an earlier time clock than me. (Meow and Rowr has replaced the gravelly voice of Springsteen.) So, I get to work when I get to work. Now, I've never overslept. Maybe once by half an hour, but I still arrived to work at my usual time. I am that good.
After I got my shot at joining the throng of motorists on 95, I worked my way over to the left lane. The FAST lane. For most of my journey to Bristol there are three lanes. The left lane where most of the drivers think 95 is the speed limit and not the road's moniker. The right lane is for those who wish to stay alive and drive the speed limit (55 mph) or slower and wonder why the hell they're on this road in the first place. The middle or center lane is for those of us who have yielded to either the fear of or the good sense not to challenge the crazy bastards who drive the left lane or the scaredy-cats in the right lane. The center lane is for the experienced driver who knows how to play all three lanes and usually comes out on top. At least I usually do.
After a few miles in the left lane, I moved to the center. Usually, at this point it's an easy going ride to work. Fifteen minutes and I'm there with my nose to the proverbial grindstone. Today though, I was treated to some creative driving by the aforementioned crazy bastards. First, there was the little white sedan that sandwiched himself between two vehicles in the center lane as he was working his way over to the right lane to again sandwich himself between two more vehicles in the right lane as he attempted to get off the northbound exit of Woodhaven Boulevard. There was a lot of braking and dirty, seething looks, but no accident or deaths. When I say sandwich, I want to illustrate by reminding those who attended Catholic school and at the school dances where the nuns would caution you to leave a little space for the Holy Spirit between you and your dance partner. Well, in this case, the Holy Spirit would have had his wings clipped. And I pity you poor SOBs who attended Catholic school dances and couldn't grind up against your dates during the slow dances. I mean that's why slow dancing was invented.
Then a little further up, there was this monster gas-guzzling SUV sitting in the access between the north bound and south bound lane reserved for police and emergency vehicles to crossover. I guess he decided going south wasn't for him today as he waited for his opportunity to jump in and join us north bounders. I knew he wasn't police or an emergency vehicle. He had Jersey plates. Fuckin' Jersey!
Then at my exit where the right two lanes go into the 413 exit for Bristol, this jack-off to my right realized that he wanted to continue north and as I passed him, he swerved behind me and crossed two lanes to continue north on 95 where the lanes are cut down to two lanes. Luckily, no one was there. Again, no accident; no injuries. However, I did bless him with a few colorful expletives that only I heard.
I head down the exit to the light where I turn left to travel the final half mile to work. Am I out of the "zone" yet? Nope. Some jack-hole in another gas-guzzling pick 'em-up truck had realized that he too did not want to exit but had already committed to it made a U-turn right after the No U-turn and authorized vehicles only sign before the traffic light. Good times. Where the hell is the trooper when all this bullshit is happening?
You might wonder what does all of this mean. Well, as I stated this was no ordinary day. I learned why when at 5:45 this evening I left work to be greeted on my way home by this enormous white ball in the sky. Yes, folks. Today is the second full moon of 2015 and the only one in February (Praise an imaginary supreme deity).
What's this got to do with terrible driving? Well, it's a query that I have posed for years. Does the moon really transform people? In other words, does a full moon turn people into irrational, egocentric, careless psychopaths or is it just the typical assholishness of mankind?
There's this thing known as the Lunar Effect. The term lunar effect refers to the belief that there is correlation between specific stages of the Earth's lunar cycle and behavior in animals, including humans, that cannot simply be explained by variation in light levels. A considerable number of studies have examined the belief: by the late 1980s, there were at least 40 published studies on the purported lunar-lunacy connection, and at least 20 published studies on the purported lunar-birthrate connection. Several extensive literature reviews and meta-analyses have found no correlation between the lunar cycle and human biology or behavior. One study with strong experimental controls indicates a possible connection between sleep quality and lunar phases, but there has been no independent confirmation of these results to date. (Wikipedia)
Not that I totally buy into the whole werewolf nature of the moon and people, but emergency rooms are busier during full moon periods. Birth rates are slightly higher on and after full moons. Mentally disturbed individuals become more agitated and violent during these periods. There's speculation that California Grunion (see below) mating rituals are influenced by phases of the moon. Who the fuck cares? Grunion fish? Someone needs to get a social life...and fast. Of course, these are statistics and if one thing you should know about statistics if you don't already is that statistics can be manipulated to draw whatever conclusions you want.
It was suggested, by Guy Cramer, president of the aerospace science company United Dynamics Corp, that the full moon might have influenced voter behavior in the US 2000 Presidential Election. (Wikipedia) I like that explanation. It goes a lot further with me than that people actually intentionally voted for George W. Bush. The full moon made me do it!
A common suggestion is that, since the moon affects large bodies of water such as the ocean (a phenomenon known as "tidal force"), the moon should be expected to have an analogous effect on human beings, whose bodies contain a great deal of water. My suggestion is to pee often during periods of a full moon to avoid going bat-shit crazy.
I knew today something was brewing. That some kind of shit might go down. Call it a premonition or a sixth sense. But it all started with the merge onto I-95 this morning. Actually, it started before that. There was the incident at the all-way stop sign. The lady in the beat up sedan and myself arrived at the stop sign simultaneously. As proper driving etiquette would dictate I intended to yield to the car to my left. The lady. But!!! She insisted that I go. WHAT??? A simple act of kindness and courtesy from a complete stranger? By an African-American female? In Philadelphia? Where whitey is the devil. WTF is going on here.
 |
| My next car |
Well, that simple act was short lived. When I got to the Great Merge at Princeton Avenue all bets were off. Due to the forever ongoing widening and traffic pattern changing construction along I-95 there are few places to access I-95 and none more dangerous and stressing than the Princeton Avenue on-ramp.
I entered into the queue with the rest of the poor bastards who need to access and travel this hellish nightmare highway. Most mornings the two lanes that feed from two converging roads form a very coordinated pas de deux of shiny metal. This morning that was not the case. The right merge was more interested in dueling and outgunning the left merge. As fate would have it, I was in the left. I am always in the left merge. As I always strive to be the conscientious and less contentious driver due to the unsettling knowledge that some of these assholes carry guns and are not afraid to use them, I conceded to the hulking beat-up POS white Chevy or Ford work van who was just not going to acquiesce to the left merging lane. Matter of fact he intended to get in front of me at all costs. (I.e., run my little red Jeepster into the cement divider to my left, if he had to.) The lane is yours, my friend. I'm in no hurry to get to work or to be injured or die today.
I had made the decision over a year ago to not be part of the stressful rat race rush to get to work. I even went as far as to shut off my alarm. I wake up when I wake up. More often, it's early because the cat's belly is on an earlier time clock than me. (Meow and Rowr has replaced the gravelly voice of Springsteen.) So, I get to work when I get to work. Now, I've never overslept. Maybe once by half an hour, but I still arrived to work at my usual time. I am that good.
After I got my shot at joining the throng of motorists on 95, I worked my way over to the left lane. The FAST lane. For most of my journey to Bristol there are three lanes. The left lane where most of the drivers think 95 is the speed limit and not the road's moniker. The right lane is for those who wish to stay alive and drive the speed limit (55 mph) or slower and wonder why the hell they're on this road in the first place. The middle or center lane is for those of us who have yielded to either the fear of or the good sense not to challenge the crazy bastards who drive the left lane or the scaredy-cats in the right lane. The center lane is for the experienced driver who knows how to play all three lanes and usually comes out on top. At least I usually do.
After a few miles in the left lane, I moved to the center. Usually, at this point it's an easy going ride to work. Fifteen minutes and I'm there with my nose to the proverbial grindstone. Today though, I was treated to some creative driving by the aforementioned crazy bastards. First, there was the little white sedan that sandwiched himself between two vehicles in the center lane as he was working his way over to the right lane to again sandwich himself between two more vehicles in the right lane as he attempted to get off the northbound exit of Woodhaven Boulevard. There was a lot of braking and dirty, seething looks, but no accident or deaths. When I say sandwich, I want to illustrate by reminding those who attended Catholic school and at the school dances where the nuns would caution you to leave a little space for the Holy Spirit between you and your dance partner. Well, in this case, the Holy Spirit would have had his wings clipped. And I pity you poor SOBs who attended Catholic school dances and couldn't grind up against your dates during the slow dances. I mean that's why slow dancing was invented.
 |
| Napoleon slow dancing |
Back to the ride.
Then a little further up, there was this monster gas-guzzling SUV sitting in the access between the north bound and south bound lane reserved for police and emergency vehicles to crossover. I guess he decided going south wasn't for him today as he waited for his opportunity to jump in and join us north bounders. I knew he wasn't police or an emergency vehicle. He had Jersey plates. Fuckin' Jersey!
Then at my exit where the right two lanes go into the 413 exit for Bristol, this jack-off to my right realized that he wanted to continue north and as I passed him, he swerved behind me and crossed two lanes to continue north on 95 where the lanes are cut down to two lanes. Luckily, no one was there. Again, no accident; no injuries. However, I did bless him with a few colorful expletives that only I heard.
I head down the exit to the light where I turn left to travel the final half mile to work. Am I out of the "zone" yet? Nope. Some jack-hole in another gas-guzzling pick 'em-up truck had realized that he too did not want to exit but had already committed to it made a U-turn right after the No U-turn and authorized vehicles only sign before the traffic light. Good times. Where the hell is the trooper when all this bullshit is happening?
You might wonder what does all of this mean. Well, as I stated this was no ordinary day. I learned why when at 5:45 this evening I left work to be greeted on my way home by this enormous white ball in the sky. Yes, folks. Today is the second full moon of 2015 and the only one in February (Praise an imaginary supreme deity).
 |
| Typical Full Moon from October 2011 |
What's this got to do with terrible driving? Well, it's a query that I have posed for years. Does the moon really transform people? In other words, does a full moon turn people into irrational, egocentric, careless psychopaths or is it just the typical assholishness of mankind?
There's this thing known as the Lunar Effect. The term lunar effect refers to the belief that there is correlation between specific stages of the Earth's lunar cycle and behavior in animals, including humans, that cannot simply be explained by variation in light levels. A considerable number of studies have examined the belief: by the late 1980s, there were at least 40 published studies on the purported lunar-lunacy connection, and at least 20 published studies on the purported lunar-birthrate connection. Several extensive literature reviews and meta-analyses have found no correlation between the lunar cycle and human biology or behavior. One study with strong experimental controls indicates a possible connection between sleep quality and lunar phases, but there has been no independent confirmation of these results to date. (Wikipedia)
Not that I totally buy into the whole werewolf nature of the moon and people, but emergency rooms are busier during full moon periods. Birth rates are slightly higher on and after full moons. Mentally disturbed individuals become more agitated and violent during these periods. There's speculation that California Grunion (see below) mating rituals are influenced by phases of the moon. Who the fuck cares? Grunion fish? Someone needs to get a social life...and fast. Of course, these are statistics and if one thing you should know about statistics if you don't already is that statistics can be manipulated to draw whatever conclusions you want.
 |
| Grunion |
It was suggested, by Guy Cramer, president of the aerospace science company United Dynamics Corp, that the full moon might have influenced voter behavior in the US 2000 Presidential Election. (Wikipedia) I like that explanation. It goes a lot further with me than that people actually intentionally voted for George W. Bush. The full moon made me do it!
A common suggestion is that, since the moon affects large bodies of water such as the ocean (a phenomenon known as "tidal force"), the moon should be expected to have an analogous effect on human beings, whose bodies contain a great deal of water. My suggestion is to pee often during periods of a full moon to avoid going bat-shit crazy.
Believers often support their claims by noting that many police officers, teachers, and nurses have observed a lunar effect in the course of their work. (Wikipedia) My girlfriend is a nurse and she'll swear by it that during full moon phases the pregos (my word, not hers) truly go a little wonky (my sister's word for crazy).
As the moon was still set high and full in the glorious, clear, dark sky, my drive home was not dull. Yes, the assholishness was alive and kicking it in Philly...still. The ride from work to my girlfriend's house was not without danger. A Ford sedan almost pulled out of the Philmont Wawa in front of me. It stopped just as I slammed on my brakes to avoid clipping its nose. Though it was dark I knew it was a Ford because the bastard was close enough for me to read the Ford nameplate.
The ride home was less eventful until I got off the Cottman Avenue exit and not one, but two clueless jerkstains could not decide at the bottom of the hill to turn left or go straight or go right or shit or go sailing. Stupid Mother Frockers. I got by them as I was going straight and knew where the fuck I was going. I gave them a long salute on the Jeepster's horn. I really wish I could get one of those Naval ship air horns installed. One blast from that would not only instantly give drivers heart attacks and seizures but probably would shake most of these shitwagons apart as most of these tin can bald tire wearing death traps don't belong on the road.
At long last, I made it into my garage. The Jeep stowed away for the night. Me in the kitchen feeding the feline and myself. And then sitting here, typing this tome.
Of course, I don't believe people are intentionally fucking with us normals. I believe people generally are self absorbed and ignorant. It's just the typical behavior of the self obsessed. Or as I previously stated, it's just typical assholishness. I like that word. Copyright. I claim it. It's mine, mine, mine. Thus, I just demonstrated the behavior I described above. It was very assholish of me to coin a nonsense word and claim copyright. The fucking full moon had absolutely nothing to do with it. The moon is innocent and that's our story and we're sticking to it. Until next time, drive in the right lane. You're not ready for the center.
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