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Copyrights reserved by the author. If you are in doubt, please click on 'Copyrights' and read the details. Observations of the autumn kind By J. G. Fabiano It is that time of year again: when bathing suits, loose shirts and shorts are put away, and work clothes and business attire hide the tan that took all summer to develop. It is also the time when long walks down the beach are replaced by long rides on crowded highways, filled with people who have to work another 50 weeks before they get their next vacation. The highways are filled with people going someplace they'd rather not go. It is also the time when my observations of people quietly meandering down the beach are replaced by observations of people going completely out of their minds because they are stuck on a crowded highway in their car. I started people-watching in traffic a couple of years ago because I didn't have much of a choice. It was either that or surrender to the urge to grab a baseball bat and smash all the radiators of the cars that penned me in, and maybe risk running into another guy with another baseball bat. So, I opted for the peaceful choice of watching the people around me and thinking of it as a kind of entertainment. It is amazing to me how many people will do things in their cars without the least awareness that everybody around them can see what they are doing. Nose-pickers are a-dime-a-dozen and I don't want to think about what they do with the contents of their noses when they're done, but it does make me think twice about accepting rides from other people and their booger-mobiles! The picking doesn't stop at noses though. One time I watched a young woman pull out a good hunk of her hair, look at it in a puzzled way, and then attempt to stick it back in her head. It was the first time I had seen anybody actually tear her hair out while stuck in traffic and I could kind of sympathize but I wasn't about to get out of my car and offer her the use of some super glue. I also watched an elderly gentleman take out an electric razor one time and shave both his ears. By the way, he had more hair in his ears then he had on his head but, then again, most men my age struggle against the perpetual migration the hair takes from the top of the head to the inner recesses of our faces. I have also wondered how many people know that the little mirror at the top of their windshield is called a rear view mirror because that is how it is supposed to be used? Every time I am stuck in traffic I observe all the little mirrors being pulled down so that the drivers can examine their faces in close-up detail. Do they do this, I wonder, because they have forgotten what they look like? Or do they want to make sure they remembered a specific pair of glasses or a particular hue of makeup? Sometimes the passenger beats the driver to the mirror. I've sometimes seen the driver and the passenger fight over the use of the rear view mirror. This happens less and less because the car manufacturers, being masters of human psychology, have installed mirrors on most passenger sun visors so passengers can gaze at themselves for the time it takes to drive from Boston to Miami, if they feel like it. There must also be some sort of triggering device on the mirror because every time I see someone pull it down, other objects appear, as if by magic. Some of the things that appear include make-up, lipstick, eyebrow pullers, cotton balls, and occasionally, nose-hair clippers for serious nose-pickers. I assume the airbag is secondary to this compartment filled with items the driver, or passenger, desperately needs. The cell phone has become an essential device to anyone who owns a car. You can always tell when someone is talking on the phone while they are trying to drive because their driving skill descends to the level of a joy-riding 12 year old. Different types of people also hold their cell phones in different ways. Middle-aged women like to hold their phones on their shoulders as they attempt to maneuver their vehicles. I once tried this position myself only to cramp my chin firmly on my right shoulder. I also lost sight of my own windshield and had to use the angry blaring of car horns around me to keep me from hitting anybody. Most men have a tendency to hold the phone firmly in their right hand. Even though I know there is a certain percentage of our population that is left-handed, the phone is always held in the right hand. It probably has something to do with our nation's politics at this time. Since cell phone use in cars is illegal in many States the use of earphones and speakers has become popular. I quite enjoy watching people scream into their dashboards, seemingly trying to tell their car what to do. I also enjoy watching them try to fit an earphone the size of a watermelon into an ear hole the size of a pea. Another odd thing about cell phone use is that when the driver receives a call he or she no longer seems to have the capacity to change speeds. If the call comes in when the driver is going 35 mph they will continue at that speed even when they want into the passing lane where traffic is doing at least 75 mph. And if they are doing 75 mph when they make a call, that's the speed they'll keep on doing, right through the tollbooth or onto the off ramp. I figure the cell phone must transit some kind of a signal to the car's cruise control and the driver no longer has the presence of mind to override it. Watching people eat in traffic is a real treat. I once watched a guy gnaw on a drumstick that appeared to have come off a fully-grown Tyrannosaurus Rex as he veered wildly in and out of traffic. I made a point of keeping out of his way because who wants to tangle with a guy who can devour a whole Tyrannosaurus Rex leg? Many people will pick at a bag of potato chips or popcorn as they drive but I wonder, do they also have to tip the bag over their heads in order to get at every last crumb of their salt-encrusted pork rind? It is almost as though they forget where they are and what they are doing in order to lift the bag up, funnel it into their mouths and dump the entire contents all over their faces. Naturally the salt in their eyes temporarily blinds them and any experienced driver near them will drop back, hoping they crash harmlessly into the guardrail. Or, with luck, go over a cliff! The funniest drivers though, are the nudes. I have seen people change entire wardrobes while in traffic and it is never the people you wish would change clothes like, say, some 20-year-old college cheerleader who looks like Catherine Zeta Jones. It is usually some overweight bald guy with more back hair than King Kong who figures he can save himself a few minutes by changing while on his way to work. I once watched an individual strip himself naked as he waited in traffic -- and I am talking jaybird naked here because at one point his butt came above the widow as he changed his pants and it was like moonrise over Long Sands Beach! Of course, before he could put on his other clothes, the traffic started to move again and pretty soon was up to 65 mile an hour and moving freely, as traffic reporters say. In this case, very freely. Dogs are usually fun to watch in other people's cars as I crawl in traffic to where I am supposed to go. There can't be a worse situation then becoming caught in traffic during an especially hot September afternoon watching a Doberman Pincer in the front seat of a Volkswagen Bug. This particular dog had it's hind legs and butt on the passenger seat and his head and front legs on the driver's lap. I thought the dog was driving the car because I never saw the driver. I always enjoy my summers watching the people around me. After Labor Day I used to think that this favorite sport of mine would have to wait until the next summer season but, now I realize that the people I observed didn't go away. They just evolved into people who decided to stuff themselves into brightly-colored metal containers in order to travel where they think they have to go. The End
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