Pirouetting pals, cudgeled cabbies, all this week on Eyewitness Disaster!
57th street, right outside the CBS building on the West Side of Manhattan, New York, is the scene of two ghastly disasters.
One is an example of carelessness. The other, of road rage.
Both tragic. Both preventable.
I hope you don't use your cell phone while driving.
Did you know that driving while talking on your cell phone is the equivalent of driving drunk? Your attention is taken away from the road and your reaction time is significantly reduced. You might as well be pulling a DUI. Or a DOC (Driving On Cell-phone) perhaps?
I am now the owner of my very first car: a brand-spanking new 2000 Ford Mustang Convertible baby!
I'll admit, I've never been a true car enthusiast. I know that to some people, my V6 automatic is a sacrilege to the Mustang name and Sports Car genre. I know they see me as a Yuppie Wanna-be-Badass.
So to all of them, I flip the bird.
"Museum Way, please," I said to the cab driver.
"Museum Way? No. Get out."
"Huh?"
The car door was still open when he started taking off with me in the back seat.
Driving is very therapeutic, don't you think? Cruising down a highway with your favorite tunes blasting in double bass. Feeling the vibrations of the music with the trembling of the road beneath you. Ahhh…
I need to exercise and get some fresh air—let me go jogging alongside the highway.
Sure. I'll be jogging, so that's exercise. And I won't be sitting here in this room, so that's fresh air.
Never mind those hundreds of cars whooshing by as I breath in heavily. Never mind all that carbon dioxide being blown into my face. Never mind the tar, dirt, and car exhaust adhering itself to the frail walls of my lungs as I try to get myself in shape.
Weekly random rambles, musings & writings of Mike Lee in San Francisco, CA