Oct 17 2008
A Rant About Speeding
I’ve written before about driving. I’ve also written about how the one trait I hate most about anyone is presumption. I think speeding and presumption go hand-in-hand.
Here’s my rant:
The speed limit is generally regarded to be the maximum limit. Meaning, it is not meant to be the speed at which you drive, but the speed which you may approach but not hit. That’s kind of what a limit means.
Don’t get me wrong, I generally drive 5-10 mph above the speed limit at all times (excepting school zones, construction zones, residential areas, etc where I strictly obey the limit) simply because I’m unlikely to get a ticket, my car gets its best mileage right around 55-60 mph and I don’t actively try to irritate the speeders who may or may not be behind me. I also want to give them the opportunity to safely pass me (without having to ride my bumper or slam on their breaks or do any number of dangerous maneuvers).
But what gets my goat is when speeders act like I’m inconveniencing them by obeying the law. You made that law, you idiots. You elected people to power who created it and if it bothers you that much, the place to fight it isn’t out on the roads, it’s in our democratic legal system. I have every right to drive the speed limit in whatever lane I so choose.
I don’t, but only because my slow-poke brethren in the right lane would suffer most if I were to do so. What happens is this: speeders, upon finding a slower driver in the left lanes, move to the right. They don’t adjust their speed down once they’re in the right lane. So the right lane slow-pokes end up with cars riding their bumper, nearly hitting them as they maneuver around frantically, etc.
Most days, I drive the speed limit in the right lane and don’t pass. Some days I’m a bit more manic and I pass like crazy. But I don’t pass angrily or unsafely, and I always pass to the left, even if it means adjusting my speed down from where I want and waiting for space to pass. I think you can tell a lot about someone by watching the way they act as they drive. Nowadays, I feel mostly at peace. Driving isn’t about getting somewhere fast to me, even if I’m on my way home to snuggle with my cat. It’s about enjoying the time I have alone. I can listen to what I want, sing as loud as I want, turn up the heat or ac to the temperature I want. And it keeps me occupied, unlike most moments of my day. When I drive my brain is at its normal churning speed, but it fits there. There’s always something changing and my boundless focus finally reaches its limit. It’s comfortable in the car.
Diane?
tibet.