And we’re back.
How have you been? Yeah? That’s great. I’ve been pretty good, pretty good. Finished another semester, taking my exams in April. British poetry…English is what I’m studying. You know, literature. Well, I might be more interested in cultural criticism, but you know…
Since I know your last few days weeks months have been brimming with expectation, I thought it was time to return to the trusty ol’ Ship of Theseus so that we can continue our little project, albeit not entirely in the way originally intended (if only because I’ve pretty much run out of A-list material). I know it sounds scary, but please have no fear, kids: I promise this site isn’t going to turn into an attempt to rekindle the non-magic that was The Deuce’s Dose. I do have some stuff that I am anxious to share, and I think you will find it enjoyable and possibly even enlightening2.
In the spirit of new things, however, I wanted to bring the site back up to speed with something that I’m sure you will find truly exciting: a short series of posts that can only be described as the Race to Determine the Worst Drivers in
My goal with this project4 is to look back over my experiences driving through the American southeast, midwest5, and northeast and then to list what I think are the three worst states to drive in. I will go ahead and say that Kentucky is not on the list; it’s not that Kentucky drivers are perfect – that’s certainly not the truth – but drivers in Kentucky just don’t exhibit the same easily identifiable, hyper-specific traits that these other drivers do.
To be clear, this isn’t just about which state is the most annoying to drive in because of in-state conditions.
So, in the interest of explaining why certain driving habits irritate me (especially when they are acted out by huge groups of people operating 4,000-pound missiles of destruction), I thought I would briefly describe some of my own driving habits6. As Dave Barry says, we all believe we are above-average drivers. This is not so much an attempt to explain why I’m an above-average driver7, but what I do and why I do it.
#1 – I drive using cruise control.
On the highway, I want to go a specific speed8. To me, it makes things much more sensible and organized if everyone drives a specific speed. For the most part, I don’t care how fast anyone drives within in the realm of safety (which, it should be said, rarely correlates to the actual speed limit). And yes, it is very possible to drive too slow on the highway. Often times driving too slow (we’re talking like 40 in a 65 zone) is far more dangerous than driving too fast.
#2 – My top priority is to stay out of everyone else’s way.
The perfect drive for me is to set my cruise control and never have to turn it off during the entire trip. I know this is not a realistic scenario, but what it boils down to is that I don’t want people to impede my progress when they gain virtually nothing. If I am about to change lanes and I see a car behind me coming up at a much faster speed, I’d rather wait two seconds and get over behind him9 than to get over and accomplish little other than slowing the other driver down. This could also be titled, “My top priority is to not be an asshole.”
#3 – I cruise in the middle lane on three-lane highways.
Now, this is not a concrete rule because there are some states that actually enforce a policy of the lanes progressively getting faster from right-to-left. In those states I would (obviously, I think) follow the rule of the road. But most of the time, I basically see the three-lane highway as a two-lane highway with a sort of emergency lane on the right: I still drive in the middle lane, pass cars on the left, and only enter the right lane if it is absolutely necessary. I like having the choice of changing lane in either direction, I like being able to see the road from the middle in my rearview mirror, and I like avoiding the tractor trailers that often dominate the right lane.
#4 – I think putting sugar in grits is a truly unholy act.
Just thought we should get that out of the way.
So, as you might imagine, these are essentially the criteria I will use for describing why drivers in certain states are suckier than others. Feel free to call me an idiot for liking to drive how I do, I don’t mind. You could save your rage, however, because there’s a decent chance that your state will make the list and that I will write a thousand-word blog insulting the way you drive (because let’s be honest: I’m not going to do anything other than lump an entire state in one basket). No one is safe!
For the record, none of these states quite compare to driving in
1 – This is a relatively accurate facsimile of the opening to approximately four million conversations I had through December and January. Ugh.
2 – Yes, that sounds pompous. I’m probably not entitled to such an attitude, but when is pomposity (pomposity?) really justified?
3 – Which would be something like Guy’s Inane Ranking of the Worst States to Drive in, Which Makes No Sense Because More Than Half the States in the Entire Nation Are Immediately Disqualified Because They Are West of Missouri or North of Connecticut.
4 – Other than using it as a place to complain about driving so that I don’t run someone off the road and beat them up in front of their children.
5 – Microsoft Word wants me to capitalize “midwest.” There, it just did it again. What the hell makes the midwest (it did it again!) so special that it gets to be capitalized?
6 – I was going to call them driving “beliefs,” but I have to be the only person who thinks about this shit enough to actually have philosophies about driving.
7 – That should be obvious. Duh.
8 – Let the argument begin. I know a lot of people who hate to use cruise control, including some members of my family who say that it makes them feel like they “aren’t in control.” What the hell does that even mean? Anyhow, I should let you know that if I am ever randomly selected to be President, I will do everything I can to make cruise control mandatory within my first hundred days.
