(Driving tips, updated)
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This year, as America’s Covid clinch begins easing, people in many necks of America are beginning to drive vehicles again. Unfortunately, at least in my neck, they’ve forgotten how.
To be honest, drivers in my part of the country have never been accused of possessing sought-after safe driver qualities, like being cautious, or sane. But then driving in the American South is not a spectator sport. Remember, NASCAR was created at Daytona Beach, in 1948, and many males south of the Mason-Dixon line haven’t used a turn signal since.
Now let me make one thing clear right up front – I am NOT here to make fun of NASCAR, or its many fans. NASCAR is officially a sport, and in America sports are sacred, meaning I could be severely gang-punched for bad-mouthing some fan’s favorite team.
Me: “Your pit crew sucks!”
Fan: “Bill, hold my beer.”
Me: [unconscious moaning]
NASCAR has had a lasting effect on South Carolina drivers. Maybe it’s a result of spending Saturdays watching guys careening around an oval track at 200 miles per hour, in front of screaming fans who have learned to inhale exhaust fumes and beer and convert it to carbon dioxide and burps. I personally know three guys, all successful adult professionals, who to this day think it’s “girly” to yield.
Guys, as a lifeform, mostly like the same things: driving fast cars, driving cars faster than other guys, and girls. I mean, guys will race lawn mowers. According to the U.S. Lawn Mower Racing Association (yes, there is), there are over 100 sanctioned events year-round, regulated by a national staff (yes, there is) that “provides credibility” … you know, in case some upstart challenges your mower’s pedigree.
Dues-paying members of the USLMRA (yes, there are) receive access to legal counsel, national publicity, and local news coverage, according to a spokesman, Mr. Mow-It-All (yes, of course there is). Some of the group’s other lawn-based puns include Sir Lawns-A-Lot, “mow-tivated racers”, and credentialed, legally-counseled racers who are “kicking grass.”
(The USLMRA, by the way, is not a Southern creation. It’s based in Chicago. The sport itself actually began in England, where it was invented in 1530 by former Lord Chancellor, Sir Thomas Mower.
So, safety is not our highest priority. According to one internet site, South Carolina has been branded the most dangerous state for driving, possibly due to the large number of souped-up lawn mowers on the freeway.
(In case you were wondering, the same site claims that Massachusetts is the safest state for driving, unless you’re a Kennedy; however, another website awards that honor to Rhode Island, which makes sense given that Rhode Island only has five drivers, who all own Priuses.)
Like most places, I imagine, getting a driver’s license is a major milestone for Southern guys … a rite of passage like that first shaving cut, or nailing that drum solo from a favorite album during the 1970’s. And getting your license in South Carolina is a snap. Here are the requirements:
- You must be at least sixteen
- You must have a face
Yes, there’s a required driver’s test, but as Dave Barry once pointed out, the tests are real-world useless. When it comes to dealing with actual drivers, driver’s license tests are about as realistic as Paula Deen doing promos for SlimFast.
So, for all you youngsters out there prepping for your driver’s test, please enjoy this
South Carolina Post-Covid Driving QA
Q. After signaling for a turn, what do you do next?
A. What does ‘signaling’ mean?
Q. After signaling for a right turn, what do you do next?
A. First, be sure you’re not on a NASCAR track.
Q. The driver in front of you holds out his left arm, palm raised. What does that mean?
A. He’s pledging to tell nothing but the truth.
Q. You see a sign saying SLOW CHILDREN PLAYING. What should you do?
A. Start a GoFundMe page … see if we can’t get these poor kids a tutor.
Q. When entering traffic after being parked at a curb you should:
A. Ease forward to tighten up the tow chain your roommate wrapped around the parking meter
Q. When driving in fog, make sure your headlights are:
o Set to ‘low beam’
o Installed
o Not smashed into the car in front of you
Q. What is the speed limit in a school zone?
A. Two grams, unless they’ve bought speed from you before.
Q. An insect the size of Egypt splatters against your windshield. What should you do?
A. If you’re in traffic, speed up and dart back and forth. If you’re parked in your garage, call an exorcist and sell the house.
Q. If you are stopped by a police officer, you should:
A. Pull over, but first hand your beer to your goofy cousin.
Q. You are required to exit your vehicle when:
A. Your goofy cousin tosses the beer at the officer.
Q. As a result, if you then kill your goofy cousin:
A. No jury would convict.
Q. How can you help prevent rear-end collisions?
o Check your mirrors before stopping
o Go really fast
o Drive backwards
Q. What does this ‘windshield wiper’ thingie do?
A. Let me guess – you’ve never been a returning Jeopardy champion.
Q. Welcome to the Department of Motor Vehicles. Please take this next-in-queue sticker and wait by the back wall until we call your number, by which time you will have children of your own.
A. Children of my own what?
Q. You’re waiting at the booth on a new toll road while some idiot in front of you is trying to buy a sausage biscuit. What do you do
A. Get his tag number, and then check the internet for “Vigilante Justice” resources. Enter discount code “not-soon-enough.”
Q. You’re approaching your freeway exit, and suddenly 165 maniacs cut in front of you. What do you do?
A. Get over it. You’re in South Carolina. You’re lucky there was no gunfire.
Q. How do I know if my car stereo is too loud?
A. Drive slowly past an animal shelter. If the dogs start howling, rein it in a notch.
Q. Your car features “three-on-the-tree.” What does that mean?
A. It means I’m taking the bus to work, sitting next to a guy with a skull tattoo of Che Guevara and a railroad spike in his nose.
Q. You’re almost at a railroad crossing, and the warning barrier begins to drop. What should you do?
A. Depends. How old is the car?
Q. You come to a four-way-stop intersection. What do you do?
o Flash your lights and proceed
o Assume all the other drivers see you
o Keep texting
Q. You come to a four-way stop intersection, and you’re not vaccinated. What do you do?
A. Turn around, because I forgot my mask. And keep texting.
Q. You’ve had a few drinks. How do you know if you’re too impaired to drive?
A. I can’t be too impaired. There’s still some money in my wallet.
Q. Are you wearing anyone else’s clothing?
A. Yes.
Q. Give me the keys.
Q. What is a divided highway?
A. A road that can’t decide.
Q. No, seriously … what is “divided”?
A. Paula Deen at a lunch buffet.
Q. Before you enter an intersection, you should:
o Look to the left and the right
o Stop texting, unless it’s important
o Get back in your car
Q. You approach an intersection and notice the traffic light is not working. What do you do?
A. Speed up, blink your lights, and make loud ambulance sounds. If you don’t know any ambulance sounds, just play your smart phone’s ring tone. It’s probably just as irritating.
Q. How long before executing a turn should you use your turn signal?
A. My what?
Q. It’s that stick to the left of your steering wheel.
A. Oh. I thought that was for releasing chloroform into the trunk, in case the captives wake up.
Q. Do your parents know you have access to a car?
A. Probably. They’re in the trunk.
Q. The car in front of you has had its turn signal on since the Truman administration. How should you respond?
A. At your first opportunity, pull in front of them and drive eight miles an hour, with a sign in the back window reading “Ask me about my grandchildren.”
Q. What is the purpose of the extra lanes in a divided highway?
A. It gives you a place to veer while you’re texting.