I may not be the most adept individual on the face of the earth when it comes to some skills. Financial planning, for one. One doesn’t blow a grand in Coach in, collectively, 15 minutes when they are in possession of all the necessary faculties possessed by fiscally responsible people. But I can navigate me some 93 South. And when on said route, I am in a perpetual state of attempting to create for myself a path through a maze of ineptitude.
First of all, the carpool lane. For those of you who don’t live in Boston, when on 93, drivers eventually reach a point at which they can choose to use the carpool lane or move over. I’m sure it’s similar all over the place. Between certain hours, there have to be at least two people in the car. Easy enough. But after that allotted time period (I think it’s 7-10 am) is over, unfortunately, any idiot can meander (yes, meander) at 55 (the speed limit is 65) down the lane, turning the journey into Boston for anyone misfortunate enough to have gone behind them in the hopes that they will be able to scoot into Boston a few minutes faster than those in the other lanes into a veritable Sunday drive. Our carpool lane, on 93, is inescapable. That is one of the perks of taking this lane. The lane is blocked off until the tunnel. Which means that the 40 or so cars which moved into the carpool lane hoping to zip straight to the tunnel instead of having to break when other cars are taking exits are now left to descend into madness as the minivan driver (believe me, it’s ALWAYS a minivan driver-or some 29384329374 year old in a white, sometimes maroon Crown Vic) switches the Dora the Explorer DVD for the brats in the back or asks his hard of hearing wife to check the map she can’t see. I used to like the carpool lane. Now I avoid it at all costs.
When I’m on 93 south, it is usually because I am trying to get to I-90 West. The English translation of “Autobahn” is “Mass Pike,” which I take frequently. Every time I find myself on the Zakim bridge, I have been in the correct lane for the maneuver I am going to attempt for at least five minutes. I’m not a last minute dummkopf thinking to himself “Heeeeey I think that’s my exit in 40 feet…I probably need to be in that lane.” I am where I am supposed to be. If I’m going the pike, I am set up (as I planned to be) to ease the wheel gently to the right as I merge towards the Pike, and make the one necessary lane change so that I’m headed in the right direction. All of this seems blissfully serene, doesn’t it? Well, recall from a few moments before when you read of the resident dummkopf and realize that 90% of the cars switching lanes around me are conducted by said ignorami. It’s as if their entire journey in their vehicle was one spontaneous mess in which they decide at the last moment that it is essential that they cut off whatever other drivers may be traveling straight (with right of way) in order to exit one highway and wreak havoc on whatever unsuspecting group of travelers may occupy the next public road they choose to grace with their presence.
The thing I don’t understand is that driving is really so easy. One need only pay carefully attention to other drivers and signs in order to make sure that traveling on 93 is both safe and efficient. Those of you who are guilty of deciding you needed to be in a lane five minutes ago need only look at the signs above you and beside you (what a concept, huh??) and prepare for whatever driving decisions you need to make. It’s a surefire way to avoid pissing me (and the rest of the responsible drivers out there) off and causing accidents.
Emerald Faith 