As someone known to give his opinion on a regular basis, it tends to create that warm, fuzzy, smug feeling on those rare occasions when that opinion is proven to actually be correct.
I mean, a blind pig will get an acorn every now and then.
So, color me "torn" when I read something the other day that substantiated my widely held and frequently articulated (at least within the confines of my own vehicle) belief that we're becoming bad drivers.
Glad to be right, not so glad that means we're running our cars into each other, bridges, guardrails, etc., at a fairly substantial rate.
And by "we" I mean everyone else. Me, I'm just fine. Better than fine. Because, to paraphrase the columnist David Barry, regardless of what our various beliefs might be, all of us can agree on one thing: We, personally, are better than average drivers.
Apparently, however, statistics would bear out the fallacy of that practically and statistically impossible belief. It seems that traffic accidents jumped significantly last year across the nation.
Now this is significant not only in that, well, there were a lot more car crashes, but because this reverses a steady trend of decline that had proceeded it.
Seems both crashes and resultant injuries from those crashes had been trending downward, owing in no small part to the continued fortunate development of safety features that defied the age-old engineer's lament that the problem with idiot-proofing anything is that we continue to build better idiots.
Apparently surrounding people with airbags and seat belts and impact-resistant panels and cameras and displays and stuff like that both makes for a lot of annoying buzzers and also keeps people from wrecking their cars or being injured if they do. Who knew?
And then, unfortunately, came 2020. On a lot of levels, but, for the purposes of this discussion, as it relates to driving. Most of us spent a lot of the year holed up in whatever passed for our lockdown fraidy holes, venturing out about as far as the mailbox, and then in our hazmat suits. Driving? Why drive? Nowhere to go, no reason to get there and doing so exposed you to The Plague, maybe best to let the car keys just hang there.
Now, while we may believe that driving a car is like riding a bicycle, reality bears out that that's not quite the truth. It seems, collectively and individually, we all have forgotten how to drive. And the numbers and scattered pieces of wreckage bear that out.
The great challenge of this -- beyond all the wrecks, of course -- is that typically when people aren't sure they remember how to do something or will admit that they're a little rusty, they tend to be a bit on the tentative side. More careful. A little hesitant.
But, apparently that tendency doesn't extend to driving. Nope, the general philosophy for a lot of us tends to be, "I haven't done this in a while. I may not actually have been as good at it as I like to believe and the consequences of doing it badly are pretty terrific. So, floor it!"
Hence the increase in both the frequency and severity of auto accidents.
So, I'm right. Sorry to say, but of all my observations, that one proved to be correct. Let's all appreciate that for a moment.
However, I'm going out on a limb here and suggesting that there's more at play than a recent tendency to zig when we should zag in our cars. It's not just that we're driving badly: we're driving mad. Angry. Running red lights, flooring it around "slowpokes" and then slamming on the brakes, generally acting like jerks. With the resultant hurt feelings and damaged autos.
If in America, as the rest of the world seems to think, we over-identify with our cars, our cars and our driving are becoming an extension of the angst and anger many of us are feeling right now. We spent two years not being able to do what we wanted to do, and now the jury still seems to be out on if or when we'll get to do it again. So we're mad. And we drive like it.
So ... we need to slow down. In our cars and in our lives. Whatever is happening, it's not going to get a bit better if you throw in a car wreck. And you can wreck yourself just as easily in the checkout line at your coffee shop as on the highway.
Anyway, that's just my opinion. And I hope I'm right again.