Self Appointed Road Monitor

… Is a term my brother always used as we left Jets (Giants) Stadium after a Jets home game. Leaving the stadium is a challenge. A rat’s nest of exit lanes leading to clogged access roads that will eventually get you onto a backed up route or a turnpike at a stand still.

Comes with the territory of leaving any one place with thousands of other people. If you can’t handle the traffic watch the game on TV.

The Hooray For Me, The Hell With You crowd would use the shoulder as a fast lane. Even if the shoulder was obstructed by snow or overgrown weeds they’d zip past barely leaving your side mirror intact. Then they’d create a bottleneck when they tried to merge in where the shoulder ended.

Baby bro had a big old Ford so he’d plant it half in the traffic lane and mostly obstructing the shoulder. I loved looking in the mirror and watching asshats squirm in their seats or lean on their horns.

Just before the blind curve my brother would move over, freeing the road entitled to speed by – right into the arms of Highway Patrol. There was always a car there, just waiting to stop and ticket them.

Good times!

I rarely appoint myself road monitor. I usually drive alone and being road monitor can be dangerous. Plus until recently I had a small car.

But sometimes, in the face of incredible asshatery, you have to take a stand.

There is a main road in my town that runs parallel to a state route. There are less stop lights so a lot of folks use it. There are three schools within a half mile of each other on this road. From 2 to 4 PM each school day you need to be mindful of school buses and children walking – often where there is no sidewalk.

Unless you’re a charter member of the The Hell With You, Hooray For Me club.

As traffic slows to let parent vehicles and school buses in and out of driveways you tailgate and honk your horn.

When traffic comes to a stop to let the wee ones cross the road you shove yourself over as far right as you can and try to pass those of us who wait.

Unless …



… someone in her white horse of a Jeep decides enough is enough.

Yep, that’s the view through my windshield as I hold up an old Camaro full of morons. I had already witnessed them passing several cars and honking at an elderly woman crossing by the library. At one point they were on someone’s lawn trying to get ahead.

See that bit of police car over to the left. The officer from that car was helping the crossing guard and was so pleased to see the Camaro honking at me as the driver shouted “move over you stupid bitch.” In fact, he was so glad to see them that he invited them to pull over for a chat.

Good times!

Better a thousand times careful than once dead. ~Proverb