Tag Archives: driving

Wolken und Nebel

Manchmal komme ich rĂ¼ber Monument Pass und das Wetter ist komplett unterschiedlich. Wann ich der Nebel und die Wolken sehe, ich muss ein Foto machen. Na ja, ich versuche.

Fog in Greenland, CO

Sometimes I come over Monument Pass and the weather is completely different. When I see the fog and the clouds, I have to take a photo. Well, I try.


An Encounter with an Asshole

While we were on our way up to Denver yesterday, we wound up dealing with a typically pea-brained, possibly inbred, certainly idiotic road rager. He looks like this:

He was driving a grey Ford F350 with no tailgate and a Colorado license plate: DMT-709

We saw this simpleton driving his ludicrous truck in Sedalia, Colorado; he turned onto Highlands Ranch Parkway after running his suck at the stoplight. As soon as he tried to run me off the road, I’d already called the Douglas County Sheriff’s office; so it was in their hands at that point.

Given the number of idiots and stupid driving incidents I witness on a given day, I’ve often toyed with starting a website called Asshole Drivers Of where people could post stuff like this and the “Of” part of it is where ever they’re from. I don’t think shaming works, but sometimes you just need a place to vent. For instance, this guy is an impotent passenger in his own life, and is therefore an asshole wherever he goes. He’s not going to change, but at least anyone in the area can keep an eye out for him.

Idiots. They’re everywhere.

Death of Courtesy

Initially, I was going to ask “What happened to the courtesy wave?” as a “Commuting Conundrum” post. You know the one: when people go out of their way to let you into their lane, you toss a hand up to say “thanks”. Yeah, almost no one does that any more.

But it’s bigger than that. Not content to simply let courtesy fall neglected by the wayside, we’ve waited for it to fall over and then we’ve savagely beat it to a bleeding gelatinous pulp. People take advantage of courteousness without a second thought: I can’t even count the number of times I’ve let someone in and then they slow down and instantly make me regret it.

Like this:

Had I known this idiot was going to block two lanes of traffic, and hold up all the other people trying to make the left, I probably wouldn’t have let her in.

But, it’s said, two wrongs don’t make a right. And as long as they didn’t put me into any danger, I normally let it go — it’s really not worth getting worked up over. And since I like my job — the reason I’m commuting again in the first place — dealing with the rude, self-absorbed and entitled general populace isn’t going to go away. Someone has to take the high road.