From the Crow’s Nest
by CLINT YOUNTS
Normally, I’m fussing at our state governing body at the poor job they’re doing, wasting our tax dollars and passing legislation that appears to have been conjured up during happy hour. I still can’t figure out how Governor Perry can justify cutting school jobs while renting a mansion for $10,000 per month, but who am I to complain? I used to think the folks under the dome were about as useful as a refrigerator in an igloo, but now I hear they are fixin’ to pass a law banning texting while driving.
It’s about time someone besides me sees that there are enough terrible drivers around here who don’t need another distraction.
Every morning as I am driving to work, I see folks texting at stop lights, oblivious that the light has turned green. Often, they notice the color change in time to get their sorry rump through the intersection while other cars have to sit through another light change. I can’t count the number of people I see each day talking on cell phones while driving erratically, and I often get behind some guy driving 10 mph under the speed limit because he’s texting while driving. You know how men are, unable to do two things at the same time except maybe watch football and drink beer simultaneously, although I normally wait to take a sip while the team is in the huddle.
Do you think the texting driver in front of you knows that he’s holding up traffic? I doubt it, and if he does, I doubt he cares. I wonder what’s so important that he has to answer some text, putting his fellow commuters at risk of being late to work or early to the grave. I wouldn’t be surprised that his text reads “I have 10 cars stuck behind me; beat that!” Or “I’m driving like a 90-year-old woman. LOL.” He should send a text to his proctologist to set up an appointment because he’s about to get a Chevy rammed up his butt.
I am proud to admit that I don’t text while driving, mainly because my old phone doesn’t have that option. Heck, it rarely allows me to receive phone calls unless I’m standing on a hilltop, facing north and wearing a hat made of aluminum foil. Perhaps it’s time to get a new phone, but I’m afraid that these new phones have way too many gadgets (youngsters call them “apps”) installed that I won’t know how to operate one. Shoot, my current phone has a camera, providing me with numerous photos of my right ear and the inside of my pants pocket. Naw, I don’t think I need an iPhone, Droid or one of them Blackberries, blueberries or hackberries.
I see some folks with one of those gadgets hooked on their ears. My daughter tells me it’s a Bluetooth, but I think it’s a sign that says “I’m a bigger nerd than you think”. Often I see these people walking around in a store talking to themselves. I don’t know if that contraption on their ear is turned on or not, but I keep my distance. I reckon these Bluetooths (Blueteeth?) serve some purpose, but I have to believe the nerd is just too lazy to reach in his pocket and pull out his cell phone. I suppose if you were born without hands or self-esteem, I guess a Bluetooth is appropriate. I’d be afraid of its proximity to the brain with all that radiation cell phones are supposed to emit. That’s why I wear lead drawers when I carry my phone in my pocket. I like my eggs scrambled, not fried.
Another gadget you won’t see me using is a GPS in my truck. I’m not sure what GPS stands for, but I think it’s “Geographically Pretty Stupid.” Being of the male persuasion, I don’t need someone giving me directions. If I’m driving in some far-away land like Round Rock or Georgetown, I might glance at a road map to see where this town might be. You remember road maps, don’t you? Big pieces of paper with roads and towns drawn on it, showing the way to your destination? Back when I was in school, our teachers actually taught kids how to use maps and globes. Kids, if you don’t know what a globe is, go ask Gramps. Nowadays, everybody has a robot sitting on their dash, telling them to take the next right or turn left at the next intersection.
If I want to hear an irritating voice telling me how to drive, I’ll toss Maw in the backseat.
You might think that I’m a little old fashioned, unwilling to adopt new technology. Hey I’m typing this on a computer and even use Spellcheck to catch misspelled words. I am a good speller, but my typing is a bit unorthodox. My typing resembles a dyslexic chicken pecking at a keyboard, so occasionally I might misspell a word or two, and Spellcheck lets me know that “dyslexic” doesn’t have a “z” in it. I also use the internet for research and correspondence, but I still like to read the news from the newspaper. I know I can get the daily news from the internet, but it’d be a pain hauling my PC to the bathroom every morning.
Some people get the news from their fancy cellphones. These newer phones have internet and all sorts of apps that I bet are never used. I wonder if this new law banning texting while driving will also prohibit reading Yahoo News while driving, or checking the menu at the restaurant they’re driving to. And God help us if some guy is cruising down Main Street and reading this column on his iPhone. I suggest if you must read my column, please be seated somewhere other than your car seat, but if you are actually in your car at this moment reading this, here’s a message just for you: “Hey numbskull! The light is green!”
