As I drove down Thompson Avenue Tuesday, I was probably a little anxious. An appointment in downtown Fayetteville had put me a little behind schedule getting to the office.
Isn't it at these times when the drivers ahead seem to move in slow motion? I'm a pretty careful driver and don't often get in a big hurry. When I have plenty of time to get to my destination, those same drivers appear, generally, to be moving reasonably well. Throw a little running-late anxiety into the mix and it starts messing with my perceptions. It seems everything around me has slowed down while I'm trying to proceed at my normal speed. Think of those scenes in "The Matrix" in which Keanu Reeves is dodging bullets in an altered slow-motion reality.
But in traffic, I'm no Keanu Reeves. I don't do a lot of dodging. Sudden movements catch other motorists off guard, and I don't trust that their reactions will be swift enough to compensate. And I know sooner or later my reactions will fail me, too. Then crash, boom, bang, like a Batman comic.
On my way back to the office last week, one driver presented an opportunity for me to work on my patience.
This motorist was a couple of cars ahead of me on Thompson. We were on the inside lane headed north when the car between us turned off. It was then I noticed this driver's turn signal was on. He was driving slow, then fast, then slow again, and with other cars in the center turn lane, I thought he was waiting for the right opening to slide over to make a left-hand turn.
Then the traffic wasn't there, and he kept going straight. Blink, blink, blink, blink, blink. The turn signal continued.
I'm became guilty of some discriminatory profiling, I suppose, because I was surprised when I moved into the right-hand lane to pass the driver. I expected to see a old man or old woman, because how many times have we witnessed older drivers fulfilling the stereotype of the miles-long turn signal? To my surprise, the gentleman was probably in his late 20s or early 30s. My guess? His radio was playing loud enough that he couldn't hear the click-clack of his signal. I can't explain his erratic speeds.
So I shouldn't have jumped to the conclusion it was an older driver, especially given the fact I've committed the turn-signal infraction myself. I'm a few years from elderly. I can't even qualify for a senior discount at local restaurants yet. But AARP has become a frequent visitor to my mailbox. Sometime it's addressed to "Greg Harton." Other times it's less personally but more accurately addressed to "Fresh Source of Revenue."
Now, think back a few decades to when cars had lap belts rather than the three-point seat belts of today's cars. A lot of people didn't wear them, and cars didn't chime or buzz incessantly until driver and passengers put their seat belts on. That changed in the early 1970s as manufacturers, often with government intervention, began installing sensors that reminded motorists to buckle up.
Seat belt use has dramatically increased over the years, partly as a result of such devices. So that got me to wondering about the scourge of FTSS, the federal government acronym for Forgotten Turn Signal Syndrome. It's a disorder that's caused many deaths, and that's just counting those drivers who don't actually suffer from FTSS, but from the high blood pressure resulting from following a person with FTSS.
I'm convinced technology can overcome this.
If I were an inventor appearing on that "Shark Tank" show, here's my inspiration for a product: A device triggered after a moving car's turn signal has been activated longer than 30 seconds. The device would trigger a click-clack or a chirping or perhaps James Earl Jones' voice to alert the driver that his turn signal continues and should be turned off. The longer the driver ignores it, the louder it becomes, eventually muting the radio and replacing Jones' bass with the piercing sound of Sam Kinison screaming "Turn it offfffffffffffffff!"
For those who just can't be reached any other way, a mechanical hand installed just below the steering wheel air bag will reach out and slap the driver. Perhaps in later years, the precision could be refined so that this arm simply reaches out and flips the turn signal lever back to the "off" position.
Then slaps the driver.
Commentary on 06/27/2016