The hell with you drivers, I’m going!

I love to drive. I grew up in a driving city, Los Angeles, and as a musician I’ve logged thousands of hours in my car.  Here’s the thing:  When I get in my car I want to move.  I’m not saying I want to speed, although my wife would disagree. I do, however want the feeling of forward momentum working towards the goal of an efficient arrival. 

New York drivers are all business behind the wheel.  If the light changes and you fail to step on the accelerator, well you’re going to get honked, and deservedly so.  If someone wants to pass you, they pass you.  They’re in more of a hurry than you are and that’s fine – I respect that.  I was all for it as long as I was not put me in any danger.  What did I care?  I would never see them again so there was no point in carrying a grudge. 

If I was driving down Park Avenue and there was a cab on my left, I half expected him to cut me off to pick up his fare.  I was looking out for him, and do you know what?   He was looking out for me too.  In another situation I might have to cut him off.   So we would honk, scream a few choice curse words, and be on our way.  That’s life.

Here in the Bay Area, when it comes to driving, their pinkies are up.  Last week I had to get over to my left quickly and I changed lanes just a tad closer to the vehicle behind me than I would have liked.   As I was changing lanes I could see the driver’s face.  It was contorted with rage and indignity.  You would have thought I had run over his grandmother, rather than cause him to decelerate a mere 2 miles per hour.  I can imagine him recounting this grave injustice to his friends over latte.

Yesterday I really acted out.  I was like the James fucking Dean of the Bay.  I was at a four-way stop sign waiting for the car in the perpendicular street to go.  As is often the case when several cars are stopped at opposing stop signs there was some hesitation.  Boom!  I went for it.  That’s the way I roll…I’m from New York.  The kicker was that the perpendicular driver didn’t seem to mind – at least he didn’t honk.  The driver at his opposite stop sign, however, to my left, took up his cause.   As I was passing her she not only honked, but wagged a finger at me.

A finger wag?!   Who does she think she is, Bill Clinton?  There’s no finger-wagging in driving!

This is going to take a little getting used to.