That’s How I Roll
On Sunday I was driving up Hwy 89 to pick up my youngest from an sleepover birthday party. I tend to be a cautious driver so I was upset about the vehicles behind me that rode my bumper pretty closely, before I knew it we were up to 65 mph on a rode signed for 55. The wet rode and cold weather didn’t make me any less nervous. The tractor trailer (big rig, 18 wheeler) to my right completed my jitters. My passive aggressive reaction to speeders on my bumper is to slow down, which I did. The truck pulled forward on my right. Near the church with its “Jesus is at the end of your rope” sign blowing snow had refrozen across the road. I completely let up on the accelerator and my car reduced speed to about 45mph. The honking blue truck kept the hammer down. A mere 30 feet or so ahead of me the truck lost traction and slid straight across my lane headed toward the ditch on the southbound side. I lightly pumped the brakes and checked the knuckle heads on my tail. The truck started the jack knife fold that precedes a rollover. I watched the white pickup truck coming south as it moved into my lane to avoid the carnage heading its way and I steered over to the right to dodge my new lane mate as the big rig slowly recovered and headed back to its original lane.
The truck driver made his way over to the right – presumably to check his shorts. I made my way to my turn off the freeway. The car radio played “God Bless America” in that same bizarre juxtaposition as when “It’s a Wonderful World” played during the napalm scene in “Good Morning Vietnam”.


