It Drives Me Crazy

     I just got home from Florida, driving some 2300 miles up and down the East coast of America. And I can tell you, without equivocation, that the worst traffic on the entire Eastern seaboard is around Washington, DC. The roads contain all the ingredients for a horrific driving experience:  Too much traffic. Lots of trucks. Miles of road construction. And plenty of aggressive, impatient drivers who speed, tailgate and basically flout the traffic laws.

     A distant second for worst traffic is the Orlando area -- while, surprisingly, the rest of Florida isn't that bad. The biggest surprise, at least to me, is that the driving in New Jersey is not the awful experience I expected it to be.

     I'll admit my own bias. I like to travel about 5 mph above the speed limit. I think that is a reasonably safe speed, and figure it's basically still within the speed limit.

     However, if you go 5 mph above the speed limit, you are one of the slowest drivers on the road. The flow of traffic on I75 and I4, up I95 to the Garden State Parkway and the Taconic Parkway, ranges somewhere between 10 and 15 mph above the speed limit. And a significant minority of drivers punch it up to 20 mph over the speed limit.That's right, when the limit is 55, they go 75. When the limit is 65, they go 85. At least until they get pulled over by a cop, which I noted takes place occasionally but not too frequently.

     So a lot of people passed me on my trip -- too many passing on the right, not the left. There were a number of instances when I was cruising along in the second lane of a four-lane highway. Two lanes open on the left. One on the right. A driver would pull up behind me, tailgate for a minute or two, then break to the right -- even though the left lanes were wide open. I figure these people are just ignorant. They don't know that they're supposed to pass on the left.

     Some people pulled up behind me, then went to the right even though there was a truck or slow driver just ahead of me in the right-hand lane. The driver would pull even on the right, inch ahead of me, then realize there wasn't enough room to pass without getting stuck behind the slow driver in the right-hand lane. So they slowed down, fell back, and angled into the left lane to pass the way they're supposed to. I figure these people are stupid. They couldn't figure out that the right-hand lane would block them when they tried to pass.

      There were a few people who watched and waited for a free lane. If they saw the right-hand lane was clear, they'd take over the lane and speed past a line of cars in the middle lane, until they closed in on a slow car -- then they'd veer into the middle lane and continue into the left lane, where they'd join the line of faster cars until the right lane got clear again, and then they'd jump back to the right lane to get ahead of another half-dozen cars. I figure these people are sociopaths. They don't care about other drivers, don't appreciate that they're putting anyone in danger. They think solely of their own convenience and need to get ahead.

     Of course, it's easy to criticize and make fun of drivers who don't drive like we do. I think I'm a good driver ... but most people think they're "better than average" drivers.

     But when you're out on the road for days at a time, you realize that it's dangerous on America's highways. But where's the outrage when over 30,000 people are killed on the road every year (even though it used to be even worse before airbags came on the scene)? People understandably spilled gallons of tears for the 27 people killed in Newtown, Ct. But that very same day, more than three times as many people were killed on America's highways. People protested wars in Iraq (4,486 American soldiers killed in 11 years) and Afghanistan (2,083 killed in 12 years). But those losses are infinitesimal compared to the casualties on our roads at home.

     Every once in a while, you see a cross on the side of the road marking the loss of someone's life in an auto accident. Probably involving someone who was speeding, tailgating or passing on the right. Those crosses should remind us -- school's open, drive carefully.

     

What a Difference ...

     ... a couple of days make. I got home last night from three weeks in Florida. Visiting family. Playing golf with old friends and new (including Douglas over at Boomer Musings who, as it turns out, is a better golfer than I am). Meeting a friendly group of fellow Snowbirds at a Bonita Springs table tennis club. Walking the beach. Enjoying a brief brush with Disney. Lolling around various restaurants sampling wares from all parts of the menu. But aside from all that, here is a picture of my backyard on Sunday:

     And here is a picture of my backyard this morning when I woke up:

  

      And you wonder why so many of us retired folks turn into Snowbirds!

Happy Bloggingtine's Day

     It's a busy week. Today is Chinese New Year. Tuesday brings us Mardi Gras. And Thursday is Valentine's Day.

     You're never too old for love, but it doesn't seem that love is front-of-mind for Baby Boomer bloggers. In this February Best of Boomer Blogs, Katie Foster, a proud foodie, waxes poetic about her ... love of food. She loves to shop, loves to cook, loves to eat, and she takes us on the scene of The Battle of the Chefs, featuring top chefs from the top restaurants in Dubai.

     Laura Lee Carter reminds us that Baby Boomers are the first American generation to grow up  in a world inundated with ever increasing manipulative advertising. Our parents had radios, but we witnessed a virtual explosion in technology in our lifetimes, all designed to reach us with ads wherever we are. We're the first generation Engineered to Consume.

     (And we do love those Superbowl ads, don't we?)
     
     Lisa Froman tells us that humility is something we may become well acquainted with at midlife. Learn more about midlife and humility at Tao Flashes -- which may include some teachable moments involving 20-somethings and learning experiences involving hashtags.

     Speaking of love, on the Survive and Thrive Boomer Guide, Rita R. Robinson, consumer journalist, writes about a survey that shows more couples fight about a messy house than money. However, there are two things that most couples agree on. The things that drive them the most crazy are misplacing keys and bills.

    (I don't know about your household, but in our household we agree on something else: We agree that you are messier than I am.)

     Finally, John Agno in his post Generation Squeeze, reports that the Labor Department's latest jobs snapshot acknowledges that all Americans have suffered from the recent economic troubles, but presents a strong case for crowning Baby Boomers as the greatest victims of the recession and its grim aftermath.

     To which I say, Aftermath? That would suggest the recession is over, wouldn't it? But maybe we need to get past all that -- for it's the year of the snake, and the snake is known for its financial acumen, perhaps indicating we should no longer worry so much about money.

Who Do You Need to Forgive?

     I've always enjoyed reading a good mystery, going back to Agatha Christie and John D. MacDonald, continuing through Michael Connelly, Robert Crais, Sue Grafton, J. A. Vance.

     B recommended Louise Penny to me a few months ago -- she'd heard about her from a friend at the library. Penny is a Canadian writer who has developed a series about Chief Inspector Armand Gamache and his trusty assistant Jean Guy Beauvoir, who work out of Montreal and solve mysteries in the far north.

     I read The Beautiful Mystery, about a murder in a monastery. And I just finished A Trick of the Light, which involves an artist who finds a childhood friend lying dead in her garden.

    I recommend Penny to anyone who likes stylish mysteries. But what stopped me was this poem offered by a character in the book, as she gazed over the scene of the crime:

        "You're lying on your deathbed.
         You have one hour to live.
         Who is it exactly, you have needed
         all these years to forgive?"

     I was raised a Catholic, and forgiveness was an issue that loomed large in my youth. So this made me wonder, who do I need to forgive? My parents, perhaps, not because they were bad parents, but because they were not perfect. My ex-wife? Nothing to forgive. Old school friends or work colleagues? Yes, there were some issues, but nothing worth a minute's thought on the deathbed.

     No, I thought, it's not that I need to forgive. It's that I need forgiveness. For the people I've hurt; for the stupid things I've done; for the things I should have done but never did. Perhaps the person I need to forgive is ... myself.

     What does Penny's poem say to you?

Remember Him?

     Since I've been in Florida a whole week -- actually, over a week -- I'm beginning to feel like a native. Okay, not really. But this venerable actor is a true Floridian ... or, at least nearly so.

     His parents had a small farm on Cat Island in the Bahamas. They traveled around the Caribbean selling tomatoes and other produce from their gardens. In February 1927 they were in Miami. The mother, Evelyn, was seven months pregnant, when she suddenly and unexpectedly went into labor. The boy was born two months premature. He was not expected to survive, but his parents stayed on in Miami for three months, nursing him and eventually bringing him to health.

Cat Island, the Bahamas

     The parents brought him back to Cat Island where as a child he helped out on the farm, but didn't get much education other than some basic religious studies as a Catholic. In 1937, the family moved to Nassau, but the young boy found nothing but trouble on the larger island.

     In 1942, the parents sent their 15-year-old son to Miami to live with his older brother -- and because he'd been born on American soil he automatically gained U. S. citizenship. He later explained his main reason for leaving: "I lived in a country where I couldn't live where I wanted to live. I lived in a country where I couldn't go where I wanted to eat, where I couldn't get a job except for those put aside for people of my color or caste."

     After just two years in Miami, he moved to New York City with dreams of success. Instead, he found a job washing dishes. A fellow waiter helped him learn to read, sitting with him at night and coaching him as he poured through the newspaper. Then the young man decided to join the army, where he was promptly assigned to the kitchen to wash dishes.

     He soon washed out of the army and headed back to New York. He auditioned for the American Negro Theater and was accepted as a student, but he did not find any immediate rapport with audiences. He could not sing, and with his Bahamian accent, did not fit the stereotype of the black actor.

     He worked hard at softening his accent and developing his acting skills, and was finally given a leading role in the classic play Lysistrata. Audiences responded, and critics gave him some good reviews.

     In 1949 producer Darryl Zanuck offered him a part in his movie No Way Out. He played Dr. Luther Brooks, treating a white bigot portrayed by Richard Widmark, and won praise for his understated performance. He moved to Hollywood and won increasingly better parts. In 1955 he broke through in Blackboard Jungle, for his role as an inner city high-school student confronting his teacher, played by Glenn Ford.

     Three years later he was nominated for an academy award for his part on The Defiant Ones. In 1961 he starred in Raisin in the Sun. Then in 1963 he became the first black actor to win an academy award for best actor in a leading role, for his performance as Homer Smith in Lilies of the Field.

     His career reached a peak in 1967 when he reigned as the biggest draw at the box office, starring in three popular movies: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner with Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn, To Sir, with Love with Pamela Dare, and In the Heat of the Night with Rod Steiger.

     The actor (who you must know by now is Sidney Poitier) did receive some criticism for playing the stereotype of the overly-idealized black character, with no faults, no sexuality, and no connection to the zeitgeist of those troubled times. But Poitier felt that his work was a reflection of his values, and he also sensed an obligation to represent his race in a positive way. Later, thinking of his poor-but-proud upbringing, he said, "I decided that I would do nothing that did not reflect positively on my father's life."

     Sidney Poitier went on to direct several films, including Buck and the Preacher, in which he also co-starred opposite Harry Belafonte, and the popular 1980 comedy Stir Crazy, starring Gene Wilder and Richard Pryor.

     Poitier was married to Juanita Hardy, a dancer, from 1950 to 1965, and they had four daughters. He has been married to former Canadian actress Joanna Shimkus since 1976, and they have two daughters, including actress Sydney Tamiia Poitier, who recently appeared in an episode of Hawaii Five-0.

     Poitier was a member of the board of directors of the Walt Disney company from 1998 to 2003, and he has received many awards, including several life achievement awards and the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2009. He lives in California, and will celebrate his 86th birthday on February 20.

     P. S. F.y.i.: some other famous native Floridians:

       Pat Boone, 78, born in Jacksonville
       Janet Reno, 74, born in Miami
       Fay Dunaway, 72, Bascom, Fla.
       Jim Morrison, 1943 - 1971, Melborne, Fla.
       Bob Vila, 66, Miami
       Elizabeth Edwards, 1949 - 2011, Jacksonville
       Tom Petty, 62, Gainesville
       Wesley Snipes, 50, Orlando