Tag Archive for bad drivers

A Ditty For Idiot Drivers

We were trying to mitigate our road rage last weekend, as we continuously encountered really stupid drivers. Texas does not have a monopoly on dumb drivers, but because there are a lot of people in the state, it seems like we have more than our fair share. So, my husband and I wrote a little song for those goofballs set to the tune of “Jingle Bells.” Feel free to sing along [note: If you don’t know what a “dingle berry” is, please look it up before you teach this to your kids.]:

Cruising down the lanes
In your beat-up Chevrolet
I see you have no brains
‘Cause you’re texting all the way.
Please put down the phone
You’re going to cause a wreck!
And then the cars will all slow down
For they have to “rubber neck.”

Oh, Dingle berries, Dingle berries,
Swerving ‘cross two lanes.
It’s no fun
To get behind one
Who’s driving with no brains.
Hey!
Dingle berries, Dingle berries,
Swerving ‘cross two lanes.
It’s no fun
To get behind one
Who’s driving with no brains.
Hey!

We thought we’d take a ride
A day or two ago.
We got behind a car
That was driving very slow.
We tried to go around
He then, of course, sped up
And when we got in front
He rode right on our butt.

Oh, Dingle berries, Dingle berries,
Swerving ‘cross two lanes.
It’s no fun
To get behind one
Who’s driving with no brains.
Hey!
Dingle berries, Dingle berries,
Swerving ‘cross two lanes.
It’s no fun
To get behind one
Who’s driving with no brains.
Hey!

Plumb Tuckered Out

It was a hard day of work out in The Real World. If you haven’t stopped in to visit before, I’m a “professional storyteller.” Yes, when I was young I got a whuppin’ for “telling stories,” and now people pay me to do that. I confess I told a different kind of story in those days.

Telling stories is a “performance,” and my adrenalin runs high all day. As soon as I leave “the stage,” all of my energy drains in a rush. As a result of that exhaustion, I had one of those experiences today that frighten the heck out of me. I don’t know if this has ever happened to any of y’all. If it has, you will know exactly how I am feeling at the moment.

I loaded my gear into the car and drove home. The next thing I knew, I had my hand on the ignition to turn off the car. I was parked in my own driveway, with the sudden realization that I remembered absolutely nothing of the drive! I had been on “autopilot” all the way home. This means that I had the potential to be a very unsafe driver. It scared the livin’ daylights out of me.

This was not the first time something like this has happened. Sometimes, I just get lost in thought while I am driving. I actually write stories in my head while I am toodling down the road, and those usually turn out to be the stories my audiences like the most. I’m that woman you saw on the freeway just talking and waving her hands around. Yes, it looked like I was crazy and talking to myself. You just figured I was talking on my cell phone with one of those Bluetooth earpieces, but I wasn’t. I am crazy and I was talking to myself.

Once, driving for nine hours home after a full day gig in South Texas, I was developing characters for a ghost story (now a piece that I perform at festivals with my husband playing the blues guitar in the background). Here’s the paragraph that was coming together:

An interesting looking old man he was. His coffee colored skin was wrinkled like crepe paper. His long neck looked like that of a turtle sticking out of the starched collar of his crisp white shirt. His black pants were ironed with a sharp crease, his shoes were spit polished until they gleamed, and he wore a snappy black fedora on his grizzled gray hair. Over his right eye, there was an black patch, like a pirate might wear. A long jagged scar bisected the wrinkles on his cheek below it. But, the most amazing thing to me was that the old man could play that guitar so well when he was missing the ring finger and the pinkie on his right hand.
quote from
“Sometimes, All A Man Can Do Is Play The Blues”
by Shelly Kneupper Tucker

Now, during this trip, I had been caught in a flood and had several other harrowing experiences. All I really wanted to do was get safely home, but I got sidetracked by my thoughts. Suddenly, I saw that I was about to cross the Red River into Oklahoma! I had driven more than thirty miles past my home in the middle of the night. I missed seeing all of the road, because I wasn’t paying attention.

I’m sitting here plumb tuckered out. I can think of many other colloquial expressions for “tired” that also apply. I’m too pooped to pop; my git up an go has got up and went; I’ve been through a wringer and been hung out to dry; I’m worn to a frazzle; I’ve burned all my coal; I’ve got an axle draggin’ in the dirt; I’m an empty shuck; and I feel like I’ve been rode hard and put up wet (read nothing else into that phrase, please).

As I sit here thinking about all of this, that old demon “Introspection” has started whispering to me. Was this my karma nudging me? How much of “The Road” am I missing, because I’m not paying attention? I’ve been spending a lot of time concentrating on this computer lately. My poor Spousal Unit is feeling like a “Blogging Widower.”

He has gone to get some Chinese take-out. When I get my “second wind,” I think we will go hear some music at a local bistro, drink an ale or two, and just spend some time together. A night out will do us good. I think it’s time for me to spend some time with the other passenger on my travels down this road of life.

Y’all have a good evening and watch yourself on The Road.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

An Apology to That Driver

Dear Sir,

I do so apologize for having the audacity to drive in front of you as you raced in your little blue sports car on that winding country road. I know that you were upset that I was blocking your pathway. I could read your lips very clearly in my rear view mirror for the eight long miles we drove together. I am so glad that your Momma didn’t hear what you said, or she would have washed your mouth out with Lifebuoy Soap. Believe me when I tell you from my own experience that Lux soap tastes better!

You made it very clear that I annoyed you as you sped up, dropped back and sped up again almost kissing your front bumper to my back bumper. Unfortunately you couldn’t pass me because of the inconsiderate drivers that kept coming from the other direction. I would have gladly pulled out of your way, but there was no shoulder on the road, and I was afraid of the drop off into the ditch at the side of the road. There were no driveways into which I could pull; and if I had it’s likely that you would have smashed into my rear end before I could have turned. That would have been unfortunate for your lovely little car.

I know you were in a hurry to get where you were going. Perhaps you could have set your alarm earlier and left your house on time. That’s what my Momma would have told me to do.

I dearly hope you will forgive me. I admit that I didn’t know the road well and was looking for the street onto which I needed to turn. That road had more twists and turns than a plot for an episode of Days of Our Lives, didn’t it?. There were signs posted telling us to watch out for deer crossing the road. Can you imagine? I think the highway department should put those deer crossing signs somewhere where it is safer for the deer to cross, don’t you?

I did my best not to annoy you. For your sake, I drove 10 miles an hour above the posted speed limit, even though it was still dark, drizzling rain and the road was slick. Though I was unfamiliar with the road, I was more frightened of you driving less than three feet behind me than I was of any hazards on the road ahead.

Perhaps you are unaware that in the State of Texas, the traffic law requires that you keep one car length distance from the car ahead for every 10 miles per hour of speed. Or, maybe you just aren’t good with math? I can relate to that, because math isn’t my strong suit either, but I can eyeball how long a car is. I don’t think the law meant for you to measure with those Hot Wheels cars you had when you were little, Sir. Of course, the State of Texas also posts speed limit signs, but everyone knows that those are just suggestions.

Though you and I may not speak the same language, I very clearly understood the sign language that you flashed to me when I finally got the opportunity to turn. It was that universal symbol with one finger. All I can say to you, Sir, is “Only in your dreams!”

I doubt that you will read this, but perhaps someone will read it to you. I am quite convinced you cannot read. As you sped away down the highway to your rendezvous with your fate, I saw the bumper sticker on the rear of the car you were driving (surely, it must have been a borrowed car). That bumper sticker said,

“Visualize World Peace.”


May peace begin with you, Sir.

My Regards,

S.K.T.