Sunday, April 27, 2014

Oh? A Splinter in My Eye?

Recently we’ve been bombarded by “Don’t text and drive” admonitions from every…one…we…know… Frankly, I’ve had enough. Stop preaching to me (I understand it’s not personal by the way) to stop snapping photos of the world around me as I hurtle down the highways or share in text my thoughts on that world around me.

If you are so inclined to preach to me, to try and remove the splinter from my eye, then you too need to stop giving into distraction like messing with the radio while driving down the road, including messing with the iPod or the flash drive or the charger cable to the iPod, iPhone or whatever while you’re driving down the road. New touch-screen dash in your car? Cover it with duct tape—you needn’t be distracted.

You need to stop eating while driving down the road. One hand on your burger? One on the wheel? Where’s my napkin? Ouch that coffee is hot. Yeah drinking and driving can be hazardous too, not just alcoholic beverages, though, most of us do that too—perhaps not entirely illegal depending on your intake. Stop taking Benadryl and hitting the road.

You need to stop putting on makeup while driving down the road.

You need to stop speaking with your passengers. Those dummies can sit in silence while you get to where you’re going.

You need to crate your cat or dog so it isn't running amok inside your car blocking your view or crushing your gonads. Talk about a distraction. As an aside, however, having dogs in the car (as well as pizzas and boxes of fried chicken) usually make people better, safer drivers...people lurve their pets.

You need to stop messing with your navigation app or device.

The sad truth is, some people shouldn’t send messages and drive because they’re not good at it. Like some people shouldn’t have chainsaws or skateboards or, like me, shouldn’t have motorcycles and/or ATV’s. Some people just can’t do some things. Hell, some people shouldn't even be allowed to drive! Me? I’m good at multitasking. 

If you’re going to send messages of text and drive, or poke around in your “contacts” list or poke around on your iPod while driving, do it smart!

Hold the device in front of you, up over the steering wheel. Keep the road ahead in your field of view. It’s not illegal to mess with your iPod or telephone while you drive, and if you get stopped for such, mention that you weren’t messaging anyone to the cop…and eat your weed (which you need to stop smoking anyway because it’s illegal—for now). Never ever try to hide your device from “the man” by having it down at your side. You’re hurtling down the road! The time your eyes are off the road is translated into feet…sometimes yards.

Don’t mess with your phone in heavy traffic. Don’t even try to read a post if you’re coming up to an intersection…wait for the red light—the perfect pause to wax or read. Now’s a good time to hook up your charger too.

We’re all gonna do at least one of the above things. Admit it. I can’t drive in the morning without an open cup of coffee or a Big Orange soda; it’s a Mothershead birth defect passed down from my mom. We all just have to do it smart. 

Accidents happen and you don’t need a phone to blame it on, usually all you need is a few moments of distraction.

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Mmm, there's nothing like Fire.
The irreversible
"I"ll not see you again,..."
Smoke doesn't ask.

Not my graduation,

Not a Moon landing,
Not a president:
Cuttin' and running.

There's not a 

Tonka Truck made,
Or a Lego square formed,
That can't be dirt...or smoke.

Prepared are you for being Old?

For being the guy:
Throws away the goblet--
(When they were young,
And I didn't have to be).

Maybe if...

One more picture,
Someone had taken.
Or if you'd had
Just one more Friend.

No One thinks when it's now:

"Sit down; you're not right,
You're not you."

When you are you,

When you are you,
At the edge of speaking thus,
Walking too,
Trapped inside a mumbling mouth's truth,
Like a deaf one's Dance.
A tumbler away from greatness.
Or a tumbler away from grace.

Not me.

I gave up.
I took a tumbler too much,
I took the Teacher's Key.
I'm not wrong, nor right.

I just see to the fire.

Erase what I want:
The people before me...
Who packed what they wanted;
Nary a shrug now.
Just the prattle of broken glass...
And folded brass.

Me?

I leave the matches,
So people after,
Can be anything they want,
Anything I hope,
But like me.

rbm