12 July 2011

Highway Summertime Blues


There is one thing I have learned in my many years driving the highway back and forth from the fucking sawmill: there are more crashes when the weather is dandy, like it was today, than when it is not. Another crash forced me off the highway into the Anarchist tangle of farm roads so I could get home and get a beer into me before it was too late. My body can only go so long without beer, a little longer than a politician can go with out lying.

Lots of other people joined me. We all know the way and drive faster on the farm roads than we usually can on the highway. Today a couple bikers followed me for a spell. Once I have a motorcyclist anywhere near me on the road I keep an eye on him all the time. I defer to anyone crazy enough to go cageless on the roads of Dope City. So I saw them turn off the main farm road we were on to one of the honey wagon roads that lead to nowhere but the front doors of grow-ops and backward religious folk in my rearview mirror. As they did so the car behind them just about hit them both before diving in a panic into a ten foot deep ditch.

Never saw an accident in my rearview before. Looked like someting you would see on tv. I stopped my car, grabbed my first aid bag and ran back to check it out. Nobody was hurt. The Chinese lady driver was crawling out of the ditch as I looked down for some blood and guts to slip my gloved hands into.

The bikers had pulled over too and came over to have a little chat with the driver. Bikers are so much like cops when they are pissed off. "Are you fucking wasted?" "Were you fucking texting?" "Do you have a fucking license?" "Were you rolling a fucking joint?" On and on they went. The Chinese lady, obviously very educated and urban, just kept saying no. No. No. No. Immigrants in Canada know they are reasonably safe in the city but they also know they are likely to be insulted, assaulted or worse out in the country where political correctness is frowned upon.

I would prefer it if women and Chinese people did not drive myself. Nothing I saw today changed my thinking any.

7 comments:

uniplmr1 said...

I worked for a Chinese guy in SF once during a personal economic downturn. After 4 days I quit and abandoned him in his damned truck in an intersection, before I was killed or I killed him. Can you imagine what driving amongst the 900 million drivers in China is like? I'm going to bed.

uniplmr1 said...

I am not racist, nor am I suicidal, hence my comments.

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

I am not a racist either: we are all fucked up. For those of us who are racist, just about everybody as far as I can tell, the Chinese invented gun powder to even scores and a whole lot more. You have to give the future rulers of the Earth credit for that.

befastpast said...

I don't envy those that take the Highway to No Hope daily. And the dry weather got a touch wet last night so at the ess bend on Capitol Hill someone took his/her hatchback a bit hard through it, swapping ends and taking out two parked asphalt jeeps. Guy from the morning shift was on the sidewalk inspecting the damage, said the bang woke him up. We didn't talk driver heritage. I tend, after 30 years of pushing the 40 foot loser cruisers around Dope City and environs, to think of all drivers as "Canadians". Coming back everything, except the glittering glass, was cleared away, and I remembered winter is less than six months away. Oh joy!
bfp
p.s., don't send all your poetry to the other dcfp. I have enough bookmarks as it is.

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

I guess we all drive that bad, eh?

RossK said...

There's another dcfp?!

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Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

I figured since Wal-Mart and Neil Young are re-creating themselves all over the fucking place I might get in on the game too. Looks as though Wordpress wants to start charging me money if I write too much there so I am keeping my posts there to a minimum.

Fact is, I like and have got comfortable with Blogspot over the years. Just about six of them now. The ads have netted me $45. Another $55 and they are suppposed to send me a cheque. Your daughter is doing better with her busking. Hell, Chief Broom could do better with his busking than I am doing here.