DRIVING: IT'S JUST NOT THAT HARD

This will be the first in a series where I try to help people who seem to be bewildered and befuddled by the act of driving. Unfortunately, being a bad driver doesn't stop people from being ABLE to drive... sort of like being a bad parent.

If all this series of posts does is help me vent about the complete dolts whom I graciously share the road with each day, then that might be good enough.



Issue #1 - Turn Signals

With some skeptical exceptions, human beings are incapable of reading each other's minds. This can prove dangerous when operating a two-ton piece of machinery going 60 mph. You might be asking yourself, "How will someone know if I want to change lanes?" or "How will the person behind me know I'm not slowing down just to annoy them, but to turn?" Luckily, the makers of motor vehicles have, for the past several decades, installed in your car/truck/suv a special device designed to, in a way, convey your thoughts to other drivers. This magic tool is called the TURN SIGNAL.

The turn signal is a flashing yellow or red light that is located on both sides of your car's front and rear bumpers. By manipulating a lever near your steering wheel, you can illuminate either the right or left blinking lights. Inside your car you will hear a clicking sound to indicate that the lights are blinking appropriately. Once you have finished the act of turning or veering to the correct direction, flick the lever again and the blinking light will stop. This lets other drivers know you don't now intend to move in any other direction but forward.

Now I know you might be thinking to yourself right now, "But I KNOW where I am going... why do I need the turn signal again?" Please keep in mind, the turn signal is just that, a SIGNAL to other drivers. Short of rolling down your window and hollering about what your next move is, it is the best way to keep other drivers informed of your decision to fling your car into their lane.

So remember, I can't read your mind! If you use your signal, you are reducing your risk of me slamming on my brakes and screaming "What the ef are you doing you stupid moron" by at least 43%. And that is a good thing.

Thank you. The next entry in this series will cover MERGING, where I tell you how to increase your chances of me letting you over (hint: it involves your turn signal).

sweet

six fifteen and the beep-beep has commenced
i can poke the snooze button with my toe if I stretch
draw my foot back into the cocoon of covers
flip the pillow to find the coolest corner

and when I roll over there you are
little white shirt stretched across your skinny shoulders
and with the day creeping up on us
the sweetest thing is ten more minutes curled around your back

Wow friends, it has been a long time! This blog existed three years ago as part of a project for one of my classes, "Does Poetry Matter?" (The answer to that question is yes, and the previous posts are fairly interesting, if you have some spare time and care about things like alliteration and iambic pentameter.)


Anyway, I decided to repurpose this old blogspot as my new general thought-posting-place. Because, you know, it is important to post your musings in the vain belief that they deserve to be read. Also, I just really feel like there are not enough places on the internet you can go to read the thoughts and opinions of strangers. Good thing I started this back up again!


I have retitled this blog "overjoyed." The distinction between joy and happiness has been an important touchstone in my life... and if you don't know the difference, I hope you'll ask me. I think each time I post I'll try to share something that has recently revealed joy to me. Here's something for today:




We put up a birdfeeder in our backyard and, I'll admit, I was skeptical. Pretty much any birdfeeder I've ever had turned into a squirrel feeder, which then became a sad display riddled with holes from the bbs my dad would shoot at it to chase the squirrels away. Wow, that makes my dad sound crazy/redneck, and he is generally neither of those two things. He just doesn't like squirrels who eat all the birdseed.

I've digressed. As the picture above suggests, our birdfeeder has been a rousing success. It attracts, in particular, goldfinches. A male goldfinch is one of those things that you can't hardly believe is actually the color it is. When you color, as a child, rarely is anything actually one of the colors from the box of Crayolas. The sky is generally not BLUE and storm clouds are not BLACK and your face is not PEACH. But a male goldfinch is every bit YELLOW. More yellow, even, than the crayon. And though I am not a huge fan of birds, the sight of this yellow goldfinch on my backyard bird feeder stirs joy in me. The display of vivid colors in an often muted world is cause to be joyful.

I have grand plans for this blog... so stay tuned. I know you are trembling with excitement. Try to get some sleep. I'll post again soon...