Saturday, December 12, 2009

Redneck vacation, day 2

You know those couples who say they can't wait to retire so they can travel the world together?

Okay, that's not me and The Hubster. We can barely manage to make the 40 mile drive to church each week without killing each other, and the only reason that in-vehicular manslaughter hasn't occurred (yet) is because neither of us would want to clean out the car afterward.

Here's the thing. I was instructed under the old philosophy of "defensive driving," which taught me to assume that every other driver on the road is an idiot, suffering from dementia, and probably under the influence of illegal substances to boot. On top of that, I grew up in New Jersey, where everyone I knew had burly, hirsute cousins named Rocco and Joey who, if you cut them off on the freeway, would come to your house and do bad things to you or your cat. (I had a very pink cousin named Geoffrey who was into raising African violets and later turned out to be gay, so the most threatening thing he would do was make fun of your shoes.)

So. When I drive, I try to keep a nice space of paranoia - er, safety, between my car and the vehicles around me.

I don't think Hubster's ever heard of defensive driving. His theory is that every other person on the road is there for the express purpose of making his drive utterly miserable. He's convinced there's a vast conspiracy of crappy drivers who just sit in their crappy cars, waiting to hear that Mr. TC has left his driveway, so they can pull out of their crappy garages and then drive on HIS road at 30 miles an hour under the speed limit. Just to piss. him. off.

On top of that, he drives a Ford F350 - an pickup truck that's big enough to house an entire Mexican village. So Hubster doesn't do the whole bubble of safety thing. Quite the opposite. He gets as close as possible to other cars or trucks, because he genuinely believes that his truck has the ability to suck up a smaller vehicle through the air intake system and then poop it out through the exhaust pipe.

Needless to say, we don't do well together in the car, especially when Hubster is driving. I gasp a lot, and end up arriving at our destination with strained forearm muscles from holding onto the door frame. Hubster thinks I should wear a burka with the eye slit sewn shut.

So it was a long 1500 miles from Texas to upstate New York. Even with the burka.

20 comments:

Louisiana Momma said...

I know EXACTLY what you mean.. my husband scares me with how close he gets with the vehicle in front of him at lights.. YET he will criticize me for the very same thing (eventhough I dont dare get as close as he does).. he has a Dodge Ram .. he says he wishes he had a super steel bumper so he could just push the other cars out of the way.. I dont usually end up with tired arms, but more like a tired leg from pushing my imaginary brake :-) I read a good portion of the post to him - and he found it funny about the air intake and pooping out the exhaust pipe.. I think perhaps he was wishing he could do that too :-)

The pale observer said...

You're back!!! We the readers have missed u!

I've become your newest follower and you are on my blog list ... Just noticed you'd posted! Glad to hear from you - sorry about the passenger-anxiety!!! :)

Cheers
Holli in Ghana

reveldesignsdiary said...

David is always making fun of me for holding onto things in the car. I'm always holding up the dash.

Meagan Dennison said...

Dave follows too closely...drive me nuts! I always tell him, 'you have precious cargo in here...drive like you want to protect it!' doesn't work though

Skitzo Leezra said...

My friend grabs that handle on the dash and says she is glad that I have an "Oh Shit" bar. Had no idea that's what you called them.

Anonymous said...

A grandmotherly friend, when riding in the car with the grandfatherly driver, has been known to respond to the question of "how can you ride in the car with him?" by saying"Why honey, I just never look up." She gets a lot of knitting and reading done that way!!!

Wendy

Kathleen Scott said...

Oof! I think I've seen your Hubster on I-35. Didn't know he could suck me through the intake or I'd have moved faster to get out of the lane.

My hubby's driving issue is brakes. Not using them until only a hard mash on the pedal will stop us in time. Hadn't thought about a bhurka. Maybe it would double as protective gear in the eventual crash.

I found you from Holli in Ghana.

TC said...

Kathleen, my husband was teaching our daughter to drive and (I swear I am not making this up), he told her, "Don't use the brakes!! Those brake pads are expensive to replace!!" Never mind that his wife needs a new set of teeth to replace the ones she's ground down to nubs.

anewday said...

Oh my - that is hysterical! I am familiar with the old school philosophy of defensive driving too! hehe

"Don't use the brakes, they're expensive to replace!" Oh my lands! THAT is funny (and frightening)!!!

CM said...

EXACTLY how my dh drives. Now imagine a very curvy lake road and himself driving a 5ton flatdeck fully loaded tailgating tourists. OY! He thinks its great 'cause all the tourists get out of his way and he gets his deliveries done quicker than any other driver. I'm waiting for the RCMP to get calls and nail his hide. (Then he tries the same thing in our minivan, but it just doesn't have the same intimidation factor though!)

Anonymous said...

Hey TC! Good thing there are no mountains in your area. I'm fine w/ dh driving unless we're on one of those curvy mountain roads w/ no guardrail... yikes. I don't even like to think about it.

Oh, and my (only) guy cousin turned out to be gay, too!

Cindy in GA

40winkzzz said...

okay, so it took me a while to get around to reading this-- but not half as long as it took you to getting around to writing it! please say you won't make us wait another 2 months for part 3! :-) i know life is busy and all (being there & doing that myself) but you are too darn funny to neglect your writing!

Junosmom said...

This is one long vacation, TC. I see part one is October, and part 2 in December. Love the post.

Term papers said...

You was instructed under the old philosophy of defensive driving, which taught me to assume that every other driver on the road is an idiot, suffering from dementia, and probably under the influence of illegal substances to boot.

Jen said...

I think our husbands are quite possibly related.
Hilarious!

Netherfieldmom said...

Glad you're back--sorta (back, not sorta). Try to post more than once a quarter--I need the laughs, here in the tundra.

Laney said...

I laughed right out loud at this post. I live in NJ and can completely relate to this!

Keeley said...

Where'd ya go, TC?

Kimberlie said...

OK, I have no idea how I found you blog but I almost pee'd my pants reading this post. You see, I grew up in NJ and I am VERY familiar with defensive driving and a nice space of safety. I don't have a cousin named Rocco or Vinny because I'm Irish, but I am very familiar with the type.

Now I live in Oklahoma, almost as bad as Texas in the "my big ass truck beats your minivan any day so move over lady or get mowed down." What is it about this part of the south and the HUGENORMOUS vehicles transporting a couple and their 1.2 children?

You are hilarious!

www.worldtravelagency.com said...

hahaha really liked your driving classes.. good luck while in car with hubster :)