theblogofthehandoftamm

I think I have frequently demonstrated that I’m a law ‘n’ order type of man; that I believe in taking responsibility for oneself and also alerting others to the error of their ways whenever possible in the most constructive ways imaginable. This morning I was confronted by a most reckless member of my local constabulary who did not share my high ideals.

Police officers have a tough job of it, no question. Yesterday, an officer accidentally shot himself during an arrest in Toronto. Today, there was a shooting outside an east-end high school. Constables regularly face delicate situations with the least desirable from our society’s misfits, such as the pantsless man atop my colleague’s roof from the other night, who refused to come down until his girlfriend was called. This morning, I became the quarry in Officer Kelly’s sights.

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As I type this I sit in the car dealership, where my wallet helps keep the very patient people’s car in fighting trim. Thankfully they also boast free wireless so I can share the trials and small victories with you.

As always happens when I’m sitting in the service lounge, the desk manager comes over to tell me what extra deficiencies the technician has noticed. Today I’m here for a coolant flush and a oil change but I haven’t been in my seat for ten minutes before I’m advised that the air filter, pollen filter (hunh?), brake fluid, and spark plugs also need to be done. The shop asks if I had the 64k overhaul on this car, which I dutifully did do some 18 months ago at another dealership. They seem suspicious.

Does this mean that the other shop did a half-assed job or that I’ve just been really hard on my brake fluid, filters, and plugs? Like everything car-related, I’m convinced it’s a scam. The machines are so beyond my understanding that I can be easily taken advantage of. Is this my fault? Kinda like computers where I’m concerned: just make the thing work for me without my needing to know what I’m doing!

So I’m getting plugged again.

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I can’t make this stuff up; truth remains stranger than any fiction. Today it involves the horseless carriages of my household. There are two, and both suffered injustices today.

I had another day booked on the links and, as I approached the wife’s car to put the clubs in it, I was greeted by shattered glass. Some miscreant had decided to do a little window shopping overnight. There’s damn all of interest/value on the seats so they figured to smash in the passenger side window for a rummage of the glovebox. Maybe there’s an iPod, maybe a bankroll, maybe a blogroll. Nope; just the service manual. Thanks for the $250 reminder that not all our fellow citizens are decent and upstanding people! I call my wife and give her the news. We agree that it’s a drag and that some people just suck that way.

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BREAKING NEWS! Gas prices continue to rise and we are promised that rates in Canada this summer will be in the $1.50/l range. Some people scream bloody murder; I say make it $2.00. Driving is a privilege, not a right, and it’s only right that we do it as little as is absolutely necessary. I have some sympathy for the rural citizen’s particular needs for large vehicles and long drives but the city dwellers with their 6-cylinder, 250hp+ rockets need to stop strapping themselves in for every whim to run to the corner. OK, high prices hit the poor harder than they hit the fabulously well-to-do, who will continue driving their Porsche Cayennes over our corpses no matter what the price to fill their tank. Still, I say give people a reason to consider whether each turn of the ignition is absolutely necessary.

Me? I’m a fool for driving 35km to work each day along the highway. Given how much time I spend idling in traffic jams, I spend about three weeks of my year at the intersection of the 401 and 404 alone. How much gas/money/pollution –and, more importantly, life– is that? Which brings me to the sea cow in my headline; I have been accustomed to driving at a sporty clip over the posted limit and have been annoyed countless times by slow-moving cars that seem oblivious to the flow of traffic in their lane. Cars going at or under the limit really need to be on the right side, y’know? I have been referring to these drivers as manatees over the years. I usually put an expletive in front of that when I mutter it with hostility behind the wheel.

Anyway, a friend of mine mentioned to me that he was slowing down on the roads in order to conserve costly gas. I have been experimenting with same for a couple of weeks and am delighted to find that by driving 100-110 on the highway (when not in a jam, which is rare enough), I’ve added about another 10% to the distance between visits to the pumps. We could say that I’m a hero to the environment and my wallet and leave this topic feeling smug but wait, there’s more! My road rage has all but disappeared as well. Damn, I feel self-righteous. And I’m not even a manatee in the left lane, because I still enjoy watching Toronto’s elite zip past me in their luxury SUVs, foaming at the mouth as they slurp their lattes and curse the slow-moving plebes in their way.

Also, I take pictures in my car while driving now, which is surely dangerous enough.