Tom and Ray, better know as Click and Clack the Tappet brothers, took a call from a listener on a Car-Talk “Classic” broadcast a few weeks back. The caller asked if there was a good way to apologize after making an “oops” on the highway. Pulling back into the travel lane too soon after passing for example. Did they have a suggestion? They didn’t, though it took 10 minutes of laughter and chatter to arrive at that conclusion.
I pull back too fast sometimes, and commit a few other “oops” when I’m behind the wheel. In spite of having a buzzer and a light on the side view mirror that warns me when a car is in my blind spot. In spite of a back up camera that keeps me from denting a fender in a parking lot or doing something even worse to a pedestrian pushing a shopping cart. In spite of having a co-pilot next to me, watching my every move like a hawk and letting me know when I’m headed for trouble with a loud thunk on an imaginary brake, accompanied by a series of progressively louder gasps that communicate the seriousness of my error.
It doesn’t work! I still move from the passing lane to the travel lane too soon, usually because an even worse driver than me is on my tail. When I do pull over, I find myself fighting for the same space as the guy who decided to charge past on the right. I thought I taught myself to be on the alert for this when I did a lot of driving in Connecticut, where everyone passes on the right. When there isn’t a lane to do it, they use the shoulder. I guess I really didn’t get used to it because I’m always startled when someone whizzes by on my right. It also evokes an extremely loud gasp from my co-pilot. I try to apologize with a shoulder shrug, a slap to my forehead or by making the peace sign, but none of these gestures are effective. Not if you judge it by the number of times I receive the international hand signal of displeasure in return.
I need a, “sorry” flag, or something similar. I blame the auto industry for my dilemma; they’ve equipped cars with an uncountable number of devices and functions we didn’t ask for and don’t want. Like a key that isn’t a key; it’s a square box the size of a bar of soap. Try and put one of those things in a hide-a-key container. My dash is loaded with screens and controls, but nothing that says, “I’m sorry!” The horn is incapable of giving a friendly toot. You have to push it so hard because of the airbag behind it that it’s only good for blasting an angry message. It alone is responsible for half the road rage on today’s highways. You mess up on the road, try to give a little toot of apology and end up making the situation worse. I desperately need a button that waves a white flag from the roof and a mechanism that sends an, “Oops, I’m sorry,” message to the radios in the cars around me. And, while they’re at it, they might consider adding a brake pedal on the passenger side of the car for my co-pilot. If you encounter me on the road and I do something to irk you, I apologize in advance, “I’m really sorry! I just don’t know how to tell you.”
Old Coot books are available at Riverow Bookshop, Owego.
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