Monday, June 2, 2008

Road Rage

I've become a horn-honker.

I know. It's awful. But very, very true.

I'm going to let you in on a secret. The thing they don't tell you about Texas is that it's not really part of the South. I mean, yes, if you look hard around here you'll find someone who will argue that with you. But honestly. They weren't members of the Confederacy, so they really don't count. Not only that but the people here...completely different from my definition of Southerners.

Southerners are nice. And considerate of others. Considerate of others in a lot of ways, but for the purposes of this post we'll limit the discussion to driving manners. Where I come from, people look out for others on the road. Some call it 'defensive driving'. Some call it being polite. Some people call it stupid and dangerous (but only those who weren't born there...TOM). But for better or for worse, that's what I'm used to. I'm used to an environment where you defer to others at a 4 way stop. Where you let people in front of you in traffic. A place where you can drive the speed limit and safely expect to remain unharrassed. A land where you slow down (or godforbid, Stop) when someone is backing out of a parking space.

It seems like a fairy tale world.

The rules are different here. In the non-South there is a different code of ethics. Here you look out for yourself first. You drive as fast as you want, however you want. In the non-South you can careen full speed through a parking lot, backer-outers be damned! It is perfectly acceptable wave your hand out the window while you zip past someone daring to drive the legal limit! Here people don't care how long you've been waiting to turn...so long as they don't get in front of them!

But the worst of it is the horn-honking. Where I come from, honking the horn is a rude thing to do. The only time you ever honk the horn is if you see someone you know and want to get their attention. The horn is not a weapon! It is an instrument of good will, not ill! But now I live on the other side of the country. The discourteous side. The side wherethe horn stretches it's vocabulary to also communicate when someone doesn't like the way you drive, the way you park, the way you slow down, the way you use your blinker, or the color of your car. They like their horns here in Texas. They like 'em mucho.

For a normal person this wouldn't be a big adjustment. But this is me. And if you've never ridden in the car with me I can tell you that I have bi-polar driving disorder. I alternately swing from extremely nervous and scared to scary raging harshness, complete with the red face and swearing...and oh buddy do I say bad, BAD words. It doesn't take much to swing me, but swing I do.

The timid and scared side of me hates the horn honking. It is frightening and alarming and RUDE and makes me feel like I'm about to get run off the road. I hear a horn honk and I want to pull over and wait for everyone else to pass me by so that I can drive unmolested. It totally freaks me out. I am already afraid to drive in congested areas, and at night, and next to tractor trailers, and when it rains, and the 3rd Thursday of every month...and the horn honking is just too much...it's over the top.

Now. The raging manical side of me kind of embraces it. It's a little bit fun. It's fun to tell people where they can go with the bleep of my horn. It's kind of nice to have the freedom to be impolite to idiots. When someone makes me mad...well that's it buddy. Instant gratification. No more fumming about the moron on the 114 all night long...I just toot my little horn and shake my fist and keep driving. What a release!

Tom keeps telling me that one of the fun things about living somewhere new is to find the things that are specific to that area and embrace them while you're there. So that one day you can look back and say, 'hey! I used to do that when I lived ___'. I'm hoping this is one of those things. That I'll be able to look back and say I used to do it.

I don't like it that I do it...but I do. I've become a double-standard horn-honker. It's okay for me to do it, but not anyone else. I'm totally ashamed of myself...and my momma and my sister would be embarassed to drive with me...but it's true. I'm a Texa-fied horn-honker.

Now. Get out of my way.

7 comments:

Elaine Davis said...

you can't possibly be talking about atlanta traffic as a polite, fairytale place. i've traveled the world, and from portland to spain the response i get when i say i'm from atlanta is...oh man, i hear the traffic there is a nightmare. i would actually put the traffic in the top 5 reasons why we don't live in atlanta anymore. i guess the grass is always greener on the other side eh? or in this case, browner, ruder, and more dangerous.

McMel said...

you and i must have been raised in a different south (Atlanta), because there are no polite drivers where I come from, and I have been using the horn for years around here.

Dan said...

>They weren't members of the >Confederacy

Uh...you sure about that?

But anyway, I'll be sure to never, ever, ever, ever get in your way if I ever come to Texas...

A Southern Wedding Belle said...

Hey Baby - you are really funny!! You're right - Georgia drivers are genteel and I would be a nervous wreak with all that honking going on too!. But I do think that Texas was part of the confed honey - maybe that was left out of your eigth grade curriculum!

A Southern Wedding Belle said...

Hi again - I just read your blog to Dad. We both laughed until we cried. I'm wrong - you aren't just funny - you are hilarious!! We think you should send your post to the newspaper. You might find a new career........... Love you

Writeaway said...

No! Don't change! You have not been there long enough to convert!!

Sutton said...

"I alternately swing from extremely nervous and scared to scary raging harshness, complete with the red face and swearing..."

I can definitely attest to that... it's rather frightening sometimes. Maybe the horn honking will actually help you a bit.

Charlie and I were driving in my car the other day when this idiot in the right turn yield lane pulled out directly in front of me while I was happily going 45 and not more than 10 yards away. We both gasped and swerved and thankfully avoided collision, but what we were most astounded by was the fact that my first reaction as I swerved was to lay hard on the horn. I think that's the first time I've ever done that. Sure, there've been plenty of times where I thought it would have been very suiting to do so. Just most of the time my hand never seems to want to, and I wind up missing out on perfect occasions to voice my dissatisfaction.

...putting down some roots?