crash into jesus

Even though I have an iPod, whenever I arrive in a new city my first order of business is to find a good variety radio station. Or better yet, a 90s station. I mean, we’ve met; you know me and 90s music. The best one I ever found was in Tallahassee. It broadcast out of Albany, GA, and I could only get it in my car, but man was it heaven. GenX Albany. Played all 90s, all the time. Until they killed it and turned it into a Top 40 station.

So now that I’m in Cincinnati, I’ve found three acceptable stations – two variety and one rock. One of the variety stations is clearly superior to the other two (read: plays more Hootie and La Bouche), but it broadcasts out of Norwood, and as far as I can tell, unless you’re physically in Norwood the station is pretty weak. Unfortunately, the other (much stronger) station on that frequency is a Contemporary Christian station. Sometimes it’s a battle – how much cheesy Jesus love do I want to put up with while trying to get my Deep Blue Something fix?

And then, something amazing happened. I tuned in to find the Norwood station and the Jesus station locked horns in a stalemate that left them essentially alternating phrases. The best part: it was some cheesy Jesus song versus DMB’s “Crash.” That’s right, the song about voyeurism. This, to the best of my artist’s rendering, is how it went:

“Touch our lips just so I know… you’re my salvation, you’re my redeemer… Hike up your skirt a little more and show… your mercy and grace are all that I need, and…  I watch you there through the window and I stare at you wearing not a thing… Jesus, you’re my everything… the king of the castle, you’re the dirty rascal… touched me and now I’m free.”

I nearly drove off the road from laughing so hard – it could not have happened with better songs. I don’t know that I will ever again be fortunate enough to hear something like this. Eric Cartman would be proud.

road rage

This post is a long time in coming. A long time. I am going to try to keep this as concise as possible, because 1. I could go on forever, and 2. my blood pressure will skyrocket.

That being said, Tallahassee drivers are the worst drivers on the face of the planet. And today I encountered every. single. fucking. way. these people annoy me.

-The guy stopped at the red light in front of me didn’t notice it turned green until I reminded him with my horn. (This happens daily.) (I have also had to do this to cops.)
-At a different red light, the guy in front of me neglected to notice traffic was moving until I reminded him with my horn.
-Making a protected left, the person at the head of the line was so slow to react (and the person behind him and the person behind him) that by the time I, three cars later, got to the light, it was red.
-Someone cut me off without signaling then immediately slammed on the brakes.
-Someone was too impatient to wait an extra three seconds for the clear road behind me and merged in front of me, forcing me to slam the brakes. Then he never got up to speed.
-A guy pulled out in front of me to make a left but sat in my lane until he had a window to complete the turn.
-Someone tailgated me up my street; I was doing 40 in a 35. I signaled and braked to turn into my complex, but by the time they realized I was braking, they were too close to stop and had to swerve into oncoming traffic to avoid rear-ending me.
-I don’t remember how many times this happened today, but I remember at least five instances of people apparently slowing down for no reason, then turning without signaling.
-The person in front of me doing less than 30 in a 55. On a two-lane road. Never turning, never speeding up.
-And the crowning jewel: In rush hour traffic, I am in the left lane, stopped at a light, about six cars back. The right lane is open as far as I can see. I signal right, check my mirrors, look over my shoulder, merge. As I pull up, the fucking assclown in front of me decides she wants the right lane too, and without looking or signaling pulls to the right, nearly sideswiping me. I have no time to lay on the horn, I slam the brakes so I don’t hit her and swerve into the turning lane. She doesn’t even wave as an “I’m sorry” gesture. I gave her the best double New York Greeting I could muster. Several times.

These people seriously drive like toddlers. “My space on the road. Mine. La la la I can’t see you. Ooh I want that space now. It’s mine too. *Swerve* Well you didn’t have your name on it so I don’t see why I should have to ask permission or tell you what I’m gonna do.” Honestly, they occupy their little spot, don’t feel the need to pay attention to their surroundings, and if they feel like cutting across three lanes, they will. Without looking or signaling. I could absolutely kill these people, but they’d probably do a better job of it themselves.

And the sad thing is, I’m not really asking a lot of them. I just want two things:

PAY ATTENTION. When you’re at a light, watch the light. When you want to turn or merge, judge the traffic window. If someone will have to slam the brakes, for God’s sake wait. If you want to change lanes, for the love of all that is good and holy look where you’re going. Make sure nobody is already in the lane. Check your mirrors. Look behind you. Make sure nobody is coming up fast enough that you’ll cause an accident.

USE YOUR SIGNALS, GODDAMMIT. This is a matter of safety. If I see you signaling to turn, I’m going to back off and give you more room to slow down. If I see you randomly slowing down, I won’t have idea what’s going on. If you’re stopped at an intersection, everyone in all directions will benefit from knowing where you’re going. It’s hard to determine right-of-way when we assume you’re going straight but you turn instead. And if you’re going to merge, signal. I will understand your intentions and back off to give you room to pull in. I’ll give you leeway to get up to speed. When we’re driving bumper-to-bumper, three lanes across, at 60mph, the last thing we need is some cretin swerving without warning.

It’s like that bike campaign: “Share the road.” Except these self-absorbed bastards need to realize they’re sharing the road with anyone. At all.

airports

I’m currently in the Charlotte Airport. Normally I’d be sitting in a rocking chair, eating a caramel apple and reading a book, but my lappy has to finish updating before I turn it off. So, airports.

I’ve been in a few. The first airport I was ever in was the Oneida County Airport. It closed a long time ago. Long before current security measures. I love(d) everything about it. It was tiny. And by tiny I mean it had two gates – the left and right sides of a double door. I distinctly remember the plastic bucket seats in the “gate” area being attached together in back-to-back rows, and being the exact same seats as in a bowling alley. It was awesome. Time for your flight: walk out onto the tarmac, up the steps to the plane, say hi to the pilot, take your seat. Everyone got a window and an aisle. There were only 13 seats. It was absolutely deafening. And fantastic. That was my first flying experience.

I’ve flown to a few places – Orlando, Phoenix, San Francisco, Detroit, Dallas, Tallahassee, New York City, Syracuse, Geneva. I’ve been laid over in probably twice as many airports. They never cease to interest me – it’s like being in someone’s home.

Atlanta and Detroit strike me as being very similar – okay, but boring. They’re pretty well laid out, but there’s not much to do. It’s not aesthetically pleasing. There’s the obligatory place-you-can-buy-things every few gates, but no place to hang around except at your gate. And Atlanta is loud. Gates are on top of each other, no space to move around, constant commotion.

I’ve been in the JetBlue and the International terminals of JFK. The international terminal is pretty small once you get past security, and there’s very little to do, considering the amount of time one has to spend in it. There’s a few food stands, a Peet’s coffee (best vanilla latte ever), a newsstand and a souvenir stand. Outside security, there’s shopping galore and several eateries, including a pretty posh sushi/caviar bar and an excellent bookstore. But not a lot of place to sit. The JetBlue terminal is actually pretty great – large centrally located “food court” area, things to do, spacious, fairly quiet. My main beef with JFK is the hike between terminals. Sure, there’s the tram, but it’s still a hike on top of that.

I hated the Syracuse airport until I found the Tallahassee airport. Syracuse has 30 gates. Tally has 16. Syracuse has eateries and newsstands. Tally has a “food court” once you get past security. Tallahassee turns up their Airport CNN network loud enough to preclude any reading, and it’s inescapable. Tallahassee’s airport doesn’t have hot coffee. ‘Nuff said. (Imagine a 9 hour delay there! It sucks.)

The Geneva airport is almost exactly what I would have pictured (if I had tried.) Clean, efficient, comfortably spaced. All the ads on the walls are for Swiss banks or Swiss watches. Pretty awesome. Check-in counters are a bit of a zoo, but online check-in eliminates the need to stand in the two-hour line. Security is incredibly swift and efficient – and fair. Everyone gets a swift pat-down, regardless. Bonus: train stop attached to it.

My favorite airport? Charlotte. Where I am now. Really good layout. You can run from one end to the other in 5 minutes. Central area is full of things. Sushi bar, NASCAR bar (currently showing the FSU football game), and a killer BBQ place. Not too far away are the best caramel apples ever. Starbucks are strategically placed throughout the airport. There are windows everywhere – the place is almost entirely naturally lit during the day, something I don’t think can be said of any other airport I’ve been in. There’s a giant airplane mobile, and during Christmas giant trees appear, built out of poinsettias and pine. But the best part? The rocking chairs. In the central area and the corridors leading between and to the terminals, are white rocking chairs and potted trees, in true Southern hospitality. So you can just sit back, enjoy the free wi-fi, take in some sun, watch the planes land, whatever. When I got stuck here overnight last Christmas, I was quite happy it was here and not somewhere else. It’s really a relaxing atmosphere.

tallahassee, there’s a log in your eye

I have my radio on as I’m driving today. I’m digging some Third Eye Blind. I’m heading north on Blair Stone, approaching Park. I see fog ahead. Fog? at 3pm? It’s 95 degrees outside. Maybe it’s smoke. I get closer to the intersection and I see it’s mist. Tallahassee is watering their medians. The sprinklers are on the medians, shooting vaguely toward the medians, but are also sending about half their spray out into the street. In addition, they’re spraying at about a 60 degree angle into the air. The water is evaporating before it gets back down to the median, causing the mist. I drive through some of the spray. By the time I went to hit my windshield wipers, it had already evaporated completely. And any good gardener can tell you that water that hits your plants in the middle of the day will burn them, much the way a sunburn burns you.

I head up the bridge toward Tennessee. A commercial comes on from the City of Tallahassee Utilities – a commercial explaining how to conserve water, energy, and money in the summer. First point: water your plants in the early morning or late evening so it doesn’t all evaporate. Second: make sure your sprinklers are pointed at your plants, not your driveway, so you’re not wasting water.

I remember I have to pay my utility bill when I get home. I open the envelope. And as usual, in their envelope I have the statement itself, a return envelope, and three other printed pieces of literature explaining to me the importance of recycling. The same three I get every week. I pay my bill online.

Tallahassee, I uh, I think there’s something in your eye. It looks like a log. Just sayin’.