I've never been and on campus guy, I seem to always be going from somewhere to get to somewhere else. Even growing up, my bedroom was furthest down the hall from the bathroom. My commute to campus is longer than most. I travel over the river and through the woods to get to English Lit 2 before Joseph Conrad's "Heart of Darkness" has stopped beating. However good my intentions are, obstacles, inconveniences, and people who should probably not be given keys to a car get in my way. The first chasm to leap is getting out of my street. As cars approach and they see me, them seem to accelerate so unless I have a twin-turbo Lamborghini, I'm not pulling out anytime soon. So two spinning tires and one middle finger later, I'm finally on the main road. Hinderance number two is the school bus. The big yellow school bus is a great way to move large numbers of children to school in an efficient way. It is also way to turn main roads into a series of stop signs. If you happen to get out before the buses have hit the road, you free fall to campus. If you leave thirty seconds later because you're waiting for the car the warm up, nothing but a teleport will get you to campus on time. The road on which on travel has a speed limit of 45 miles per hour. The bus that I am behind has a top speed of 23 miles per hour while going downhill with no passengers, no pending stops and jet fuel in the tank.
One time, a bus had stopped and the little stop sign thingy sprung out so I stopped as well. When the bus began moving, the driver had forgotten to make the sign flip back against the side of the bus and a big red octagon is moving towards me. I have a decision to make. Unless I pop my car into reverse and start backing up, I'm going to be looking down the short end of a cops ticket book.
So after I pass the bus level (I feel like I'm playing a video games without the instruction booklet) I should be awarded with a suspension and an engine upgrade after traversing the big yellow iceberg minefield.
The next challenge in The Lord of the Undergraduate Degrees is the highway level. From driver's ed, I remember that the left lane is reserved for the faster cars and the lanes to the right are meant for slower drivers. I think a few people missed a memo. The left lane is for people who don't want to change lanes and feel compelled to talk on the cell phones, put on their makeup, shave, read the newspaper, and clip their toenails while driving. The middle lane is for passing the slow people in the left lane while catching their eye to give them a dirty look and then cut them off and watch their reaction. The right lane is where Nascar drivers get their start because you really have to be on your toes. Between merging waves of cars who think you can come on the highway doing 17 miles per hour and mix with cars doing 85, people can use this lane to catapult ahead of the drivers in the other lanes.
And as George Carlin pointed out, anyone driving slower than you is an idiot, and cars moving faster are considered maniacs. Its a wonder I get anywhere with these maniacs and idiots on the highway with me.
I downshift from the highway to local roads and I get a spattering of different types of motorists. One of them is the person who has the cruise control set at 7 miles an hour presumably on a dry run for Sunday church on a Wednesday during rush hour. Then there is the person looking to get on the main road who feels compelled to fly out in front of me with reckless abandon and then drive like their in a funeral procession. There is also the person who seems lost and brakes at every street almost to the point of a complete stop, then slams on the gas until the next street. And we wonder why Dramamine sells so well. The next is that person who jams on their brakes and stops, then puts on their right turn signal. As you pull around this person, they inevitably cut across the front of you to make a left turn. The light accelerator is the one that gets me. I was always taught that green means go, red means stop, and yellow means slow down, and black means I've either had too much to drink or someone has punched you in the face and its time to lay down. What I have learned from watching others is that yellow means go faster, and look to see if it changes while I'm under it, then check for cops. The light accelerator hits the gas when he sees the yellow which causes me, being right behind him, to do the same. He then rethinks his actions and hits the brakes which causes the coffee in my hand to explode against the windshield. While waiting for the light to change, I clean my dashboard of with what I have available: a gum wrapper and a two-year old band-aid I find under the seat. Although I wasn't fully awake when I left the house, the 400 degree coffee which I brewed at home so I can't sue anyone for the third-degree burn on my thighs has scalded me awake more than calmly sipping it in class could have ever done.
The Army commercials say that they do more before six a.m. than most people do all day. I can guess that no one in the Special Forces has ever commuted to college. I've had enough for one day and I haven't even gotten to campus yet. Driving through town is the fun part. If I've done well up until now, local roads make me feel like a tourist with a gun full of blanks in a Texas bar. New Paltz has made it quite clear that they prefer walkers over drivers. There are talks about making the parking for the village of New Paltz in Highland. And it would probably help me get to campus on time. Some of the streets seem to be a solid crosswalk for a 1/4 mile stretch. So I inch towards campus with my foot on the brake like a lost guy in the desert waving people across my front bumper. I'd love to continue writing, but I have to put the laptop down and find a parking space.
a decidedly myopic rehashing of the not so obvious... Seinfeld should have thought of it
