People are Driving (Me) Crazy in Los Angeles

Back in the days when Pope John Paul II was a young, whipper-snapper pontiff, he would disembark an airplane, walk jauntily down the steps onto the tarmac, kneel down and kiss the ground. I don’t recall the particular custom that compelled him to engage in this behavior, but I relate to his need to pay homage to the soil he was treading upon.

Now I’m not proposing you actually kneel down and kiss the asphalt of our own U.S. 101 in South County, but if you did, you might have a perfectly good reason such as you’d just survived risking life and limb on the Los Angeles freeways, as my spouse and I did recently.

Incidentally, a study naming U.S. cities with the rudest drivers made the news a few days ago. Miami took first place again this year, although I’d recommend a recount since I can’t imagine driving in a city with an impoliteness level surpassing that of Los Angeles where the motto should be: “We can drive and discharge weapons at the same time.”

To give Los Angeles drivers their due, however, they did land in the top five U.S. cities in the rudeness department and, judging by what my spouse and I witnessed on our last trip south, we can confirm that this, ummm … “honor” is justified.

One problem with L.A. drivers is their intense need to change driving lanes every six seconds. I don’t know why this is so but I suspect it may be some sort of religious custom. Of course each lane change involves repositioning your car in front of another car, which then ticks off the driver of the other car, and so on. Here’s how it goes and because this is highly technical, please pay close attention:

Car A, driving behind Car B determines Car B is driving below the California imaginary speed limit of 125 mph so Car A (minus a signal because signaling is against the law in LA or something) veers his vehicle violently into the lane to his left, nearly amputating the right front fender of Car C. Car C, justifiably homicidal as a result of this affront, swerves hard into the lane recently vacated by Car A, narrowly avoiding taking out Car D who responds with prolonged horn honking and the “California Salute” because someone dared to trespass into “his” lane.

Meanwhile, Car E traverses an on-ramp and enters the freeway at approximately 156 mph; obviously he’d have been going faster except his left rear wheel is missing due to an unfortunate neighborhood theft. Sensing that an interloper, Car F, is moving rapidly forward and about to prevent his merge, Car E mashes the accelerator and hauls five lanes to the left, breaking the sound barrier before arriving in the “fast” lane at which time he elects to drive 35 mph, causing fast lane occupant, Car G, to slam on his brakes, narrowly escaping inflation of his driver’s side airbag. 

This brief interlude leaves Cars A through G in dangerously torqued-off frames of mind, which is astutely observed by Car H traveling several yards behind the cluster of lane changers. Sensing that somebody is about to change driving lanes because it’s already been, like, 5.2 seconds since anybody changed a lane, Car H decides it’d be a real hoot to accelerate to warp speed, preventing a lane change by Car G whose brakes are still smoking from avoiding a nasty rear-ending of Car E. Oh, and did I mention that the drivers of Cars A, C, D, F, G and H are all on cell phones?

Another problem with Southern California drivers is the way they refer to their highways. It’s “The 101,” “The 405,” “The 710,” as if freeways are actually some form of menacing entities such as “The Government” or “The Donald.” Here, in the genteel Bay Area, we “take 101” or we “drive on 280.” This slight distinction denotes that we, not the highways, are in control. Sort of.

One more dilemma is the noticeable absence of law enforcement personnel on L.A. freeways. This is understandable because, frankly, people inside law enforcement are not dummies. Why drive on those roads if they don’t have to? I can see how this has played out over the years: (L.A. police to highway patrol: “OK, Fred, ‘highway’ and ‘patrol’ is your name so it’s your game – you guys get the freeways.” Highway patrol to county sheriff: “Yo, Herb – freeway control is your baby because you boys handle L.A. County, and the county – duh! – has freeways.” County sheriff to L.A. police: “Hey, Bob – Your city, your freeways – deal with it!”) And so on they go, round and round, the net result being all the law enforcement officials are hanging out drinking coffee and steering clear of the freeway system.

Finally, there is a phenomenon on L.A. freeways that I’ve not noticed other places. There are no old people driving on the freeways! Where did they all go? I’ll tell you where. Fearing for their lives, they have sold their cars and sought shelter in supermarkets where they commandeer grocery carts and operate them at the speed of livestock amputees, reliving the good old days when the highways belonged to them.

Now there are some so-called “experts” who say rude driving is caused by people acting like morons because they ride inside moving fortresses of molded steel believing they are, therefore, anonymous. I say those experts are smoking crack. Highway rudeness happens because there aren’t enough elderly people on the freeways anymore. Drag those old folks out of the grocery stores, put them behind the wheel of a car and get them out on the highway again! Once those elderly road warriors hit maximum speeds of 28 mph they will effectively jam up the freeways and stop that obsessive lane changing. 

But until the experts see the wisdom of my suggestion, drive carefully, people! The life you save might be mine.

Gale Hammond is a 23-year Morgan Hill resident. Reach her at Ga*********@*ol.com.