I've been thinking about safe driving lately, and how age impacts our attitude toward it.  I used to be quick to lift a certain finger if one was proffered to me, and fast used to be a better thing than it is now.  Not that slow feels great now... it's just that I don't care as much about fast any more, most of the time.  Or whether someone passes me.

I think the advice that our parents and riving teachers gave us is partly at fault: "Drive defensively.  Drive as if everyone else is stupid or crazy."  In other words, be instantly judgmental and react accordingly without thinking.  I don't think we distinguish between defensive and offensive in this context.

We all do it.  I am as guilty as anyone else, muttering a constant dialog on how that idiot in the red car must think it is SO HARD to push a lever that is two inches from your hand an entire half inch to signal your turn.  And what an inconsiderate jerk that guy is for going 35 miles below the speed limit in a no-passing zone.  Or what a moron that is who doesn't understand the concept of turning right on red.  Or what a jerk the City of Ithaca is for Fulton Street being such a bogged-down, bumper to bumper mess.  And don't even get me started on the State of New York for the grand-canyons they call 'potholes' on local state roads.

I guess I used to be most dangerous in a snow storm if the theme from Star Wars was playing, because with the hard-driving inspiration of the music, and the snow looked like a star field at warp speed the faster I went.  How could I not go fast? 

Actually the William Tell Overture worked almost as well, or almost anything John Williams wrote.

Nowadays I am willing to go to lengths to let someone pass me if they really want to.  I don't resent them if I am going the speed limit and they pass me at 20mph faster.  That doesn't stop me from hoping there is a cop up ahead, but I don't wish them a fiery afterlife.  I don't take it personally.  I care what I am doing, not the other driver (the bloody idiot!).

These days I think if the speed limit sign says 30 miles per hour, well, it's their neighborhood, not mine so 30 it is.  Well, maybe 32.  But not 40 or 50.  And when I am in my own neighborhood I keep remembering the time our County Sheriff, upon being asked to patrol the northernmost piece of Triphammer Road, warned that the people who get the most tickets when neighborhoods request traffic patrols are -- you probably guessed it -- the neighbors.

Over the past few years I have driven south quite a bit, and noticed that drivers on southern highways are more likely to stay at the speed limit -- not even five miles above, but actually at the speed limit.  Virginia, the Carolinas, Georgia... it's kind of nice.  You drive along at the right speed, and I have also observed that I get where I am going just the same.

Of course, that doesn't include Florida, which is a northern state that was cut out of the north and glued under the south.

It's a relief to drive in the south.  There is no guessing.  Should I drive 20mph above the speed limit to 'keep up with traffic'?  Nope, it's not an issue.  If I slow to let someone in I don't have to worry that the person behind me doesn't get it and might ram me in frustration.

And as for the finger... a motorcycle was tailgating me as I drove down Esty Hill a few years ago.  The speed limit there is 45, but nobody goes that slowly because it used to be 55.  I was probably doing 50 or 55, but the biker didn't like that, so he passed me.  As he cut in front of me his passenger flipped me the proverbial finger.  When I was younger I might have returned the compliment.  But I only smiled.  I think that may have made him madder.  Which made me smile more.  And think more about doing 45.

It's good to smile when you're driving.  And play calming music in snow storms.

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