Driving

Let me just say that I have a love/hate relationship with driving. I love cruising along in my sporty coupe with the windows open and my stereo turned up. I love long stretches of open road that seem to disappear into the horizon. I love the weird road-side attractions that try to lure me in to experience the best BBQ in the world (if not at the very least, the township) or take the tour through the international museum of freaks and geeks and get a chance to meet Waldo The Rather Large Eunuch.

It hasn't always been this way. Oh no. When I was in my youth, my parents loved loading up the family wagon with me and my four sibs, dragging us to what I thought at the time were the lamest places and telling us that we should be enjoying the beautiful scenery. Mom & Dad, I love you but, children will never appreciate the more subtle aspects of looking at a bunch of rocks and cliffs. I understand it now thanks to the mind altering effects of my friend, Mary Jane, but back then, we were wanting to ride roller coasters or go to water parks. I'm sure the reason we didn't do those things was that they were expensive. I got my revenge though. On a trip to Disneyland, I made the fam drive me to this martial arts store I had read about in a magazine. I love thinking about them driving me around the streets of LA so I could buy a pair of nunchuks.

Now about that hate part. Just what the fuck is up with the rest of you people out there!?! Is it some form of mental retardation that befalls you when you get behind the wheel? I just don't get it. I especially get annoyed when some fucking bimbo driving a hummer (that's right. A fucking Hummer!) cuts across three lanes of traffic because she's just remembered that this is her exit. Better yet is a car full of punk kids (you bunch of self-entitled fuckers) going ten miles under the limit because they are too busy texting their friends that aren't in the car. Thought it might be nice to let Suzy Stinky Crotch know we were on our way somewhere fun and would she and some other peeps like to meet us there.

You bicyclists need to get a fucking clue as well. Here's a thought, uh, You don't own the fucking road! You don't get to ride two or three abreast. You do not get to weave in and out of traffic and you are not a fucking car! Never have been, never will be. Now I know you're trying to reduce whatever carbon footprint you've been told you are leaving and trying to reduce the amount of oil we all consume (and we all consume it whether you drive or not), but your sense of entitlement boggles the mind. When you come to a stop sign, FUCKING STOP!!! Don't roll on through and make it my responsibility to watch out for your irrelevant ass. To be honest, I'm more interested in not dinging my expensive car and what I'm going to have for dinner. Start paying some property taxes on your bikes and I might feel differently, but until then don't fuck with me. You will lose.

Spencer's Rules for the road

1. Use your fucking signals. They are there for a reason.

2. Hang up your phone. No one needs to die while you're operating a five-ton murder weapon. Many children are also a distraction. If you don't have to take them all then don't

3. Kids must wait until they are 18 and out of high school to drive.

4. Bumper stickers have to go. I know there are some gems out there, but if you have something funny or insightful to say, start a blog. You can get more words in and you don't have to work around it at the car wash.

5. Blondes between the ages of 18 and 35 do not need anything bigger than a light sedan. Unless you are  working on a farm and hauling sacks of feed. (You Hummer driving biatches are going to have a special place in the new regime.)

6. If you've had a DUI, you don't get to drive again ever. As in for the rest of your life. Yes. We are talking one strike and you are fucking done. I don't really care what your church calling is or who you are at the state level.    

7. Don't ever cut me off again. I will shoot you in the face. (Sarcasm only because I live in Utah)

8. Turn the boom-boom bass down. You are ruining your hearing and I can't hear this screaming guitar solo.

9. Plan your fucking trips. Mapquest and GPS tracking are great tools. Use them and that will save you from having to cut across 4 lanes because you've just realized that the driveway for little
Petey's day care is about to pass you by because you were too busy thinking about Jesus to notice.

10. Focus on the road. This means eyes front and hands on steering wheel. Don't eat, drink, apply make-up, text or call people. Put the iPod on shuffle (been guilty of messing with that one myself. If only I liked better music.)

I'm sure I will remember a few others on the way home.

If we can follow these rules as well as others that you'll just have to receive through osmosis, I'm sure we'll all be a lot safer and happier. By the way. My two personal favorite albums for road trips are Ani Difranco: Dilate and The Beatles: Revolver.

Happy driving everyone and I'll see you @ 4:20