Stickshifts and safety belts, bucket seats have all got to go

I took a road trip to San Francisco for the week of Thanksgiving with my girlfriend(?).  On the way home, she got pulled over for speeding.  The officer took her license and registration and said he'd be right back.

Her:  I can't believe I'm going to get a ticket.

Me:  He's probably going to ticket you for driving while there was a capable man in the vehicle.

Her:  In that case, he should ticket you for not keeping your woman under better control.

The risks I take to make myself laugh.  Glad she thought it was funny too.

The way the scattered ever-busy bright lights of a city might look off to a distant mountain range

You know, some days you just have to get up into the mountains. Here are a few pictures I took when I went for a rather long drive with my brother and his two youngest girls. Of course we had to get out and play around in the water a little bit here and there.

Here are some of the pictures I took along the way. They're not very good because I forgot my regular camera, so had to take these with my phone, but hey, it's better than nothing.

















I would've taken more, but the last half of the drive was in Wyoming, and we all know how ugly Wyoming is.

I posted the second to the last picture on Facebook, which immediately prompted an invitation to go hiking with an old high school friend the next morning. I'll post those pictures later. Wouldn't want to overrun your senses with too much rugged beauty.

If you're going my way, I want to drive it all night long

I've taken the advice of a very wise man, and have uploaded my road trip videos to YouTube. So, if you've ever wondered what it'd be like to be on a road trip with me (and let's face it, you know you have), it's a whole lot of this:









P.S. These aren't as awesome as I thought they were. They didn't look this shaky on my phone. Whatever. Next time, you can come along with me and try holding the camera still.

I'd rather dance than talk with you

This morning I forgot about two things:

1) The tunnel I drive through on the way to my office is under more construction than usual.

2) Classes start today.

The combination of these two facts meant that traffic was a bajillion times heavier than it's been all summer. Yes, a bajillion.

As I sat inching my car along, I had more time to notice some things. Like the license plate frame on the car in front of me that read "I'd rather be swimming." I can understand wanting to be just about anywhere other than driving in heavy traffic, but I was a little surprised that people still put those frames around their license plates. I was also a little surprised that no matter what, this person would rather be swimming. Driving to the airport for a tropical vacation? No thanks, I'd rather be swimming. Making out in the back seat of the car? No thanks, I'd rather be swimming. Then, as I pulled into the parking lot on campus, I noticed a friend's truck had one that read, "I'd rather be playing baseball."

So I learned two things on my way to campus: Some complete stranger likes swimming. A friend of mine likes baseball.

The problem with those license plate frames, though, is that there are some people who can't be completely honest with what they'd rather be doing because of social stigmas. I came up with a few, for those people. Hey, I'm here to help.

I'd rather be . . .

. . . watching porn.

. . . skinning squirrels.

. . . cooking methamphetamine.

. . . sacrificing virgins.

. . . punching retards.

. . . date raping your sister.

. . . burning a cross in your yard.

. . . choking a hooker.

Feel free to put your favorite one around your license plate.

Kinda hard to blame somebody for goin' to a better place

Most of my friends are out of town this weekend. That makes for a boring Friday night. So, I did what I usually do when I'm alone and bored - I went for a drive. I drove across Hoover Dam to Arizona so I could go down by the banks of the Colorado River. It's been a while since I've been near flowing water. It relaxes me. I should do it more often.

On the way back I had to stop at a police checkpoint. They stop everyone to inspect their vehicles to make sure nothing's suspicious looking before allowing people to cross the dam. As I pulled up to the officer, he told me to roll down my window so he could see inside my car. Just then the song Paradise Blues by Eels came on the stereo.

Scary little suicide bomber
On her way to paradise
Gonna take yourself and be with her
Killin' once and killin' twice

Not exactly the best timing.

And I believe there's a way to describe the silence as sound

Today I accidentally hit the 'notes' button on my ipod touch, and saw a few notes my kids wrote while we were en route to my grandmother's funeral in December.

Like this one from Tortellini:

Hi Dad you suck. Just saying. I hope you never get this because you're such a butt face. And I can't believe I have to sit here next to you on this ten hour road trip. You suck, you suck, you suck. Even [Togers] and [Mr M] think so but they won't say anything because they're too chicken. Also, they don't have the itouch. Because I am cool so I get to choose the music. And you're not cool, because you're a loser. And now we're listening to "Know Your Enemy" by Rage Against The Machine. Do you want to know why I chose this song? Because I know my enemy, and it's you. So shut up. Oh yeah, and the real reason [Mr M] has to pee every ten minutes is because I'm giving him super pee drinks. Bye.

And this one from Togers:

Hi Dad, it's [Togers]. I just thought I'd let you know that you are a butt. Not a butthead, a butt, because butts don't have heads. And just by the way, you aren't fooling anyone, we all know that you are a dinosaur. If I had a dog that was as ugly as you I'd shave its butt and teach it to walk backwards. So shut up you buttface. Go poop your pants or something.

But this one was my favorite:

RAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bahahaha I know I scared you ;)

I miss my little brats.

Take the ride as far as anyone can go

It's official. My car is hella evil:

Everyone wants to be a perpetual motion machine

Today, while driving across town with my friend:

Him: I would've run that light if that girl hadn't been standing at the corner ready to cross.

Me: She is cute. You made the right choice.

He drove through the next yellow light.

Me: So, you didn't want to stop to see the guy with the mullet wearing a tank top cross in front of us?

Him: I didn't see the guy with the mullet.

Me: But if you had, you totally would've stopped, right?

Come on children, you're acting like children, every generation thinks it's the end of the world

Sometimes parenting calls for teaching your kids important life skills, whether they're old enough to learn them or not. Sunday afternoon we drove out to the dry lake bed so I could teach Tortellini and Togers how to drive. The complicating factor? My car has a standard transmission. Call me crazy, but I firmly believe that everyone should know how to operate a stick. Besides, they're both a lot older than I was the first time I drove a motorized vehicle with a clutch. I was eight. (Hi Mom. I bet you didn't know that, did you?)

I explained everything on the drive out, and demonstrated how to work the clutch and gear shift. Once we got there and they started driving there were a few times I thought my car was going to die out there in the desert. It didn't. And at least we had no traffic to worry about.

Tortellini went first. Her biggest problem was learning how to start out. She killed the car a few times, then just figured that she could get going easily if she peeled out rather than trying to take it slow. Periodically she'd forget to take her foot off the gas when pushing in the clutch, so the engine would rev until I pointed that out, but that was only for the first few minutes.



Togers asked to go second. Apparently that was because he wanted to learn from Tortellini's mistakes so as to avoid looking foolish. His plan seemed to work because he figured it out almost immediately. His biggest problem was recognizing when he was about to hit a bump and slowing down for it. That definitely made me glad we weren't out on the streets. My poor car's shocks.



And of course Mr M wanted to take a turn, so I let him sit on my lap and steer while I operated the pedals. I decided that as long as I have a say in things, that kid will never get his license. He asked if I could drive faster, so I did, then I saw a little look on his face, knew exactly what he was thinking and said, "Don't you dare turn that wheel hard while we're going this speed." He was disappointed, but asked if I could slow down enough for him to do it. That seemed to satisfy him.



By the end of the day, Tortellini and Togers seemed to get it all figured out:

Then we went home. The end.

He scares me so, like I scare myself

We went on a road trip for Memorial Day weekend. I dropped the two oldest kids off with friends, and Mr M and I went to visit my sisters. It turns out that Mr M is an inquisitive little bugger when he's got me all to himself. Here's a sample of the ten billion questions he asked while we were driving:

"Dad, why do we need atmosphere?"

"Dad, what year did we get water on earth? Was it like 1944?"

"Dad, what would it feel like to jump through a cloud?"

"Dad, what would happen if lightning struck lava? Would both of them just get hotter?"

"Dad, what would happen if I jumped out of a car while it was moving really fast?"

"Dad, is there food in space?"

"Dad, how can you make snow turn into an avalanche?"

"Dad, how hard would it be to blow up the moon? Could you do it with an atomic bomb?"

"Dad, what would happen if that whole mountain fell down when we were right next to it? Would the trees fall too?"

"Dad, what if the sun went out? Could we just eat frozen ham from a dead pig to survive?"

"Dad, what would happen if you killed everyone but yourself?"

"Dad, what would happen if you cut off somebody's legs?"

"Dad, is Hitler part of God?"


As you can see, as the drive went on, I began to believe more and more that it might be time to start worrying about the kid.

--------------------UPDATE--------------------

It's worth mentioning that there were a few moments of silence that came when Mr M decided that he wanted to be like a dog and have some wind blowing in his face:

Your racist friend

Driving in my car with my friend from Texas:

Him: That's a nice house.

Me: I know you just said, "That's a nice house", but with your accent, it sounded like you said, "That's a nice ass."

Him: So?

Me: So we just passed that 13 year old girl who was riding her bike on the other side of the street, pedophile.

Him: I'm no pedophile, racist!

Me: Racist? How does that make me racist?

Him: You're anti-Texan.

Me: Pretty sure Texan isn't a race, dude.

Him: Neither is New Zealander. But that didn't stop that guy from refusing to give Bret and Jemaine their fruit*.








*Even though they did get it in the end.

They deftly maneuver and muscle for rank

As long as I've been driving, I've been aware that there are some drivers out there who believe that they are better than everyone else. They think that their time is more important, and therefore they are justified in cutting people off, weaving in and out of traffic, waiting until the last possible second before merging when a lane ends, driving on the shoulder or in the turning lane for extended periods, etc.

Recently, I've conducted an observational study on Las Vegas traffic patterns in order to determine the types of people who behave in such a way. I've made mental notes* about the types of vehicles that I most commonly see doing any of the aforementioned things. To determine if there is a financial component to such behavior, I assigned vehicle type to one of four categories: Sport Car/Luxury Vehicle, Sport Utility Vehicle, Practical Cars (e.g., Honda Accord, Toyota Camry, etc.), and Old Cars (e.g., Ford Tempo, Geo Metro, etc.).

Results showed that there was no significant** difference between erratic drivers in Sport/Luxury Cars and those in SUVs (p=0.4556). However, there was a significant difference in bad driving between both those groups and drivers in practical cars, as well as drivers in old cars (p<0.0001).



These findings are even more astounding when one considers the proportion of each of these vehicle categories with respect to the total number of vehicles on the road. While Sport/Luxury Cars only make up a small percentage of the number of vehicles on the road, the number of observed instances where those drivers behaved badly was high. Moreover, even though the proportion of SUVs and practical cars on the road was approximately the same, SUV drivers were one and a half times as likely to drive badly.



Since Sport/Luxury Cars and SUVs are far more expensive than practical (and old) cars tend to be, I am left with the conclusion that rich people are assholes.








*This study is based strictly on anecdotal evidence.

**All statistics are fabricated.

Have a drumstick and your brain stops tickin'

Today I drove to my parents' house for the holiday weekend. We got a later start than we wanted, so I ended up stopping at a Wendy's about an hour away from there to feed my kids. Once we got back in the car and headed a few miles down the road I had the following conversation with my daughter:

Tortellini: It's good that we're not eating chicken tomorrow.

Me: Why's that?

Tortellini: Because it makes me sick.

Me: If that's the case, then why did you just order a chicken sandwich? Retard!

Tortellini: Um, because it looked good?

Don't stop, get on down

If you're on your own in this life the days and nights are long

Mr. M.: Dad, where's Grandma?

Me: She's behind us.

Mr. M.: Are we racing her?

Me: Yeah, we are.

Mr. M.: Why is she so far back there?

Me: Because she sucks.

Mr. M.: No, her not suck. Her make my favorite food.

Me: What's your favorite food?

Mr. M.: All that stuff her makes. I really like pie.

-------------------------------------------

Mr. M.: Dad?

Me: What?

Mr. M.: I love you.

Me: I love you too.

Mr. M.: [Tortellini]?

Tortellini: What?

Mr. M.: You should get smart and go jump off a cliff.

-------------------------------------------

Mr. M.: Dad, when I don't see you for a really, really, really, really long time, I miss you.

Goin' your way anyway

You can tell you're driving across South Dakota when . . .

. . . every convenience store is either a Loaf-n-Jug or Kum 'n Go.
. . . you see a couple hundred signs advertising Wall Drug.
. . . you drive past the Corn Palace.
. . . the scenery doesn't change for hundreds of miles.
. . . seriously, the scenery doesn't change for hundreds of miles.
. . . the highlight of your day is crossing the Missouri River.
. . . you start wondering what's so great about those plains anyway.
. . . you come to the realization that Black Hills gold actually comes from the Black Hills.
. . . out of boredom, you start reporting on every insect you hit (e.g., *Splat* "That was a dragonfly.").
. . . your traveling companion doesn't get upset when you start reporting on every insect you hit (e.g., *Splat* "What was that one?" "A bumblebee.").

Black souls in the desert

A few things I learned while at the dry lake bed last weekend:

- My car will go at least 105 mph.
- Driving 105 mph on a road at night isn't safe when there are rabbits jumping out in front of you.
- I no longer have the heart to run over rabbits that jump out in front of me.
- Not all drivers can go on rocky roads without getting high centered.
- I can.
- My car can even go offroad.
- I know better than to drive my car across the desert.
- That doesn't always stop me from doing it.
- Creosote bush grows far enough apart that my car can fit between the bushes.
- Teenagers like to race across dry lake beds at night.
- So do I.
- That doesn't make me a redneck.
- Or a teenager.
- Drinking champagne straight out of the bottle = classy.
- Drunk people are really easy to amuse.
- Nerds are fun to mock.
- Chips Ahoy chocolate chunk cookies are a big hit with the drunk bonfire crowd.
- Fire can even make me tolerate some of the people I can't stand to be around.

If she wants to dance and drink all night, well there's noone that can stop her

**Edit**
If you're looking for the lyrics to Thrash Unreal, click here.
**Resume post**

About a month ago somebody made the comment that I've lived in Vegas too long (sure I was talking about how to dispose of a body, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything). While it may be true that I've lived here too long, weird stuff also happened to me before I moved here. I've told you about the time I picked up The Hungarian, but he wasn't the first stranger I'd ever given a ride, and it was only slightly more uncomfortable than the first time.

It was shortly after my ex-wife and I had separated, and I went on a weekend flyfishing trip to the Green River to try and get my mind off things. It was early in the spring (my favorite time to fish the river), and I was on my way home. About a 100 miles from home I passed a truck with its hazard lights blinking. Since it was in the middle of nowhere, and it was getting dark, I looked around to see if I could help, but didn't see anyone. I kept driving, it got dark and started snowing. About 20 miles down the road, as I was coming up on a small town, I passed a shadow on the side of the road. Figuring that this was the driver of the broken down vehicle, I stopped and a woman got in the car.

Her: Thank you so much!
Me: Don't mention it. Is that your truck back there?
Her: No.
Me: No? Then what are you doing out in this?
Her: Oh, I'm coming from that trailer park over there.
Me (noticing the trailer park for the first time): Oh. Do you live there?
Her: No. I just came from having a threesome with a girl from work and her husband.
Me: Um, really?
Her: Yeah. She's been wanting to fuck me for a long time. So, I finally agreed to do a threesome with her and her husband, and then she goes and gets all pissed off and starts fighting with him afterward.
Me: . . .
Her: The original plan was for him to pick me up and then take me home afterward, but after they started fighting I just left.
Me: Ok, so where do I need to take you.
Her: I just live on the other side of town.
Me: I'll take you home so you don't have to walk in this.
Her: Thanks.
Me: No problem.

Uncomfortable silence

Her: So, do you party?
Me: No.
Her: You don't drink, or do any drugs?
Me: Nope. I'm a good boy.
Her: Wow. So there are still a few of those left in the world.
Me: Yup.

This was about the time that we started getting close to her place, so the conversation stopped so she could give me directions. I dropped her off. She tried to get me to come in for a drink, but I declined. She may as well have been asking me, "So, which STD would you like to contract tonight?"

My only question is, how come the girls in stories like this are never attractive? If she had been, the ending may have been a little bit different.

That accident left everyone a little shook up

Friday night I was driving home at about 3 a.m. after a night out with a couple of friends. The beltway onramp that I use to go home has a long slow curve, and as I rounded that I saw a giant cloud of dust, and red tail lights where no red tail lights ought to be. The car just in front of me had run off the road and was lying on its side.

I stopped, and as I was getting out of my car, a girl climbed out the sun roof and yelled for me to call 911. I did, and told them where the accident was. While I was on the phone, a second girl climbed out the sunroof and told me not to call, that everything was fine. I handed the phone to her so that she could talk to the dispatcher (they asked me if anyone was hurt, but I didn't know because I didn't know how many people were in the vehicle). She hung up, and handed the phone back to me, and I asked her if she was alright. When she said that she was fine it became apparent why she didn't want anyone to come out. She was drunk. They both were. Luckily they were both wearing seatbelts, or else it probably would have been a whole lot worse, but as it was, it was just the car that was totalled.

By this time another guy had stopped to see if everyone was fine. I told him that I'd already called the police, and he asked the girls if they needed anything. One girl needed a bandage for her elbow, but neither of us had one of those.

Him: I can't help you with that, but I have some Red Bull in the truck. Does either of you want one of those?
Driver: I'll take one.

So, there you have it. Red Bull fixes everything.

One of the girls called her friend to come out, and I talked to her friend to tell her where we were. The friend asked if she should come out, and I told her there was no way they were going to be able to drive the car home, so maybe she ought to. Of course, I'm sure the driver spent the night in jail, but the passenger would have needed a lift.

I hung around long enough for the paramedics to arrive. The ambulance parked in a way that completely blocked off traffic, so I asked if I should move my car so that people could get by.

Paramedic: Yeah, you should. Were you involved?
Me: No, I just came around the bend right after it happened.
Paramedic: Did you see it?
Me: No.
Paramedic: Well, there's really no reason for you to stay, so why don't you go ahead and go home.
Me: You sure?
Paramedic: Yeah. Thanks Bro.

So there you have it. I was able to do a bit of a good deed. I don't know what ended up happening, but I'm really glad that no-one was seriously hurt. I'm also glad that I wasn't a few seconds earlier, otherwise she may have hit me. Driving in Vegas can be scary. Especially at 3 a.m. on a weekend. Maybe I should make it a point to get home earlier.

While we're on the subject can we change the subject now?

One last thing about my trip to British Columbia, and then I'll move on to other things. I swear. I don't know if it's because of the lower speed limit (100 km/hr = 62 mi/hr) or what, but it seemed to me that there was a lot less road kill along their highways. That said, I'd sure hate to be the person who hit the moose I saw dead on the side of the road. I'm pretty sure that could mess up your vehicle. Oddly enough, that was the only moose I saw the entire trip. I figured I'd see some because they have these signs posted everywhere.

I know the signs had me on extra alert, but obviously it didn't work for whoever hit the dead one. Maybe it's because he saw one of the newer, artsy moose crossing signs instead.

Of course, that doesn't really look like a moose, so maybe the person didn't see the moose standing in the road because they were on the lookout for one of these instead.

One thing I find interesting is the different animal crossing signs you see in different parts of North America. I saw a caribou crossing sign in B. C., but didn't take a picture of it since it was dark and I figured I'd see more (I didn't). I know they have armadillo crossing signs in Texas and Oklahoma, but I'm not sure anything is quite as odd as the ones they have in southern California.