At half-past-two on a Tuesday afternoon you have plenty of spare time to goldbrick your taxpayer-financed job in favor of political blogging.

Isn’t there a high-profile murder case to be prosecuted by the Butler County Attorney’s office? Why aren’t you working on that?

(But I’m sure you’re the second-coming of Thomas Dewey when it comes to speeding tickets on the Turnpike.)

Most people have to take the LSAT to get into law school. The more I learn about you, the more I suspect you had to “Draw Winky.”

Don’t flatter yourself.

Jr – dead you may not be. But a lair, we both know you are. You’ve demonstrated same repeatedly.

Forget the fine – what about life endangerment? Lock these people up for 72 hours.

They won’t be in such a hurry next time.

Whether they enjoy it or not.”

And mostly, they don’t.

The irrational reactions can be quite entertaining!

WHAT a tax on neural activity!

“I’m going to turn or change lanes. I need to flip the little switch within inches of my hands to signal the intent.”

Overload?

Well I’m neither dead nor a liar. I’m routinely at or slightly below the speed limit. I drive in such a way that rather ….encourages others to drive more responsibly. I’m coasting down to my turn, avail yourself of another lane. Wanna beat me to the red light? Go around.

Whether they enjoy it or not.

Minor edit. Please forgive.

Most people are mostly inattentive when driving; we’re doing or thinking about other things. We don’t mean to not use our turn signals, we just forget, or realize at the last minute our turn was coming up because we were fiddling with the radio or thinking about the conversation at the water cooler at work or whatever. When we honk, or flip someone off, it simply reflects our irritation at any number of things that may be going on in our lives.

And anyone who says they don’t enjoy driving fast is either dead or a liar. We do. We like our cars; they are part of our culture to a degree many people don’t quite understand. They are often, perhaps more than anything else we have, reflections of us. They are symbols of our independence, as as Americans often do, we like to assert that independence.

BTW – K10 between Lawrence and Olathe, any morning or evening. I drove it regularly in law school with a classmate from Rhode Island (where apparantly 55 actually meant 55!). He was amazed people – and the cops – were passing him routinely as he drive the actual speed limit. It took a while for him to understand that out in the hinterland, speed limits are often interpreted as, well, speed suggestions, and as minimums, not maximums.

What’s amazing, nearly everwhere, is that there aren’t more accidents than there are. . . .

Even confiscating the cars wouldn’t work and it would be a nightmare to enforce.

I think short jail sentences, like the weekend or just a day, would change their ways.

Amazing how many people in Wichita expect all of the traffic on Kellogg to clear just because they signalled. …and honk and get aggressive and give the “stink eye” when they don’t.

Is how Wichita drivers don’t acknowledge turn signals. I’ve cruised into town in the inner lanes of Kellogg and known my exit was a half-mile away and signaled my intent to merge toward the off-ramp to a fool in a pick-up who decides THAT’S the moment he’s gonna speed up and pass me on the right.
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Amazing how many people in Wichita consider a turn signal a personal challenge.

Dallas? A NASCAR-sanctioned event.
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Truth Dat! On LBJ, there are places with concrete walls with tire marks at the top. Some of those walls have to be almost 30 feet tall. Why are there tire marks that high up?

When it comes to wrecks, folks in Dallas don’t mess around….

I was the truck behind Monkeyhawk. You were in another truck with a trailer, right? Please let me elaborate on your statements with a little reality thrown in…

“Cruised into town in the inner lanes of Kellogg” meant driving well below the speed limit from west Wichita to Woodlawn in the passing lane with traffic stacked up behind. (Which is illegal now, thank goodness)

“My exit was a half-mile away and signaled my intent to merge toward the off-ramp” meant flipping on the signal as you’re making a mad dash for the exit a few hundred yards away. *I* was the one signalling well in advance which didn’t seem to make any difference to you.

“People who think they’re on the road by themselves”. Ummm, okay.

What should be a pleasant drive across town usually turns painfully frustrating. I’d *much* rather drive the Dallas freeways than with the many vengeful and oblivious drivers here in Wichita.

Speeders will *always* be there. Let the police take care of them. Please.

Dennis

The 107 mph guy was racing with another knucklehead who was ticketed for going 98 or so mph. Ya cain’t fix stupid.

Dennis
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Who won?

Dennis

Probably not.

SO, unless such a person can give good cause for being half again over the speed limit (wife in labor, dying relative, something interesting about to happen in Kansas!) is take their car away.

People who drive that fast over the speed limit, need a huge fine, their licenses revoked and sent to traffic and driving school.

Is how Wichita drivers don’t acknowledge turn signals. I’ve cruised into town in the inner lanes of Kellogg and known my exit was a half-mile away and signaled my intent to merge toward the off-ramp to a fool in a pick-up who decides THAT’S the moment he’s gonna speed up and pass me on the right.

Besides the stop-at-a-Yield and cruise-through-a-Stop-sign peeve, I get a lot of Wichita drivers who want to turn right on a red but don’t seem to understand I’m planning to drive forward when the light turns green.

THEY jump on the horn because THEY want to turn right on red! (It’s in the Constitution somewhere, I guess.)

And let’s get rid of anyone thinking Wichita has a “rush hour.”

Atlanta? Now there’s a rush hour. Dallas? A NASCAR-sanctioned event. Houston? The longest, hottest, humid-est, narrowest patio party in the world. (You can make the same time getting out of the car and grilling some hot links.)

“Rush Hour” in Wichita? About 20 minutes of people who think they’re on the road by themselves.