Archive for the ‘Vehicular Stupidity’ Category

Stupidity and the Bicyclist

Saturday, December 12th, 2009

When we view an act of remarkable stupidity, should we take action? Unfortunately, this is not possible because stupidity typically strikes instantly, dashing any hope of defense or prevention. Yet another reason why we must always be alert and on the lookout for the stupid among us.

  As I drove on a city street at the speed limit of 35 mph, I approached a garbage truck, quietly stopped on the shoulder. This was not cause for alarm. If I stayed in my lane and continued driving, all could be well. But throw in a variable, say an earthquake registering 6.9 on the Richter scale or a violent twister drifting off course some 1500 miles from Kansas City or a stuper (short for a heinously stupid person) on a bicycle, pulling a wagon that may or may not contain a child, who swerves in my lane just as I  pass, and suddenly, a mini Armageddon potentially swings into action.

When most of us approach a stopped vehicle, we hopefully stop, or if safe, pass the car using the passing lane. Stupers, being defective in brain capacity by habit and nature, are unable to stop. They are incapable of safely passing. They just continue and either run smack into the stopped vehicle or make a sudden turn in a different direction without assessing the situation.

The moron on the bike did not hit the stopped garbage truck as she approached it. Instead, she continued at the same speed, directly into my lane, not after I’d passed her or even before, but while I drove side by side with her. Perhaps, she was making an exceedingly feeble attempt to enter through my open window or trying to attach herself to the side of my vehicle, as she was tired of pedaling the bike and the wagon. I’ll never know for sure.

Thankfully, no other cars drove in the lane next to me, so I moved quickly away and then back into my lane upon passing her, but not before I carefully observed the sanitation engineers (notice that I am not only politically correct in using job titles, but handy with euphemisms as well- Omawarisan, please take special note; I realize you are carefully examining applicants for your administration) gasp in horror at her insane maneuver. I also viewed the stuper’s expression. It was blank, as usual. Please take note again, that I maneuvered and observed simultaneously.

Daily, I am inundated by those who have a working mind, but who abstain from using it. The group is growing larger. I am thinking of buying a large van, possibly even a retired double-decker tourist bus, collecting stuper specimens and setting up the lab I’ve always dreamed of (“always” is a relative term. For me it refers to when I began writing this post).  In my lab, after obtaining a large government grant, I’d tirelessly try different means of awakening the dormant mind, such as surgery (it’s true, I’ve no surgical experience, yet I’m a hands-on person who is a quick study, and I do have an undergraduate degree in science…political science, but nonetheless, I feel I could make a difference after a few tries) and therapy, such as electric  shock (sooner or later, stupers would have to realize the pain will continue, unless they think first before speaking and/or acting).

Also, think of the giant petri dish factories that would have to be built in order to hold the stuper specimens. That would certainly stimulate our sluggish economy.

We make up our world with our thoughts. Why not think?


Stupidity, Driving, Mario Andretti and Cows

Thursday, November 12th, 2009

The burning issue today is not health care reform or who truly created the Internet. The pressing question is why stupers (short, as you all know by now, for remarkably stupid persons) are allowed to operate motor vehicles?

There exists a truly long, overly drawn out stretch of highway near my home that runs mostly one lane in each direction. This translates into the majority of highway drivers being stuck behind a lagging idiot driving 35 mph in a 65 mph zone, thereby creating a sluggish caravan, at least once during each thirty mile stretch. I was stuck yesterday; #8 in line behind a meager mind.

If you are the type that spontaneously experiences fits of hysteria in the mere presence or at the mention of a stuper, please visit a more innocuous site, like

As all of my motor vehicle driving and pedestrian readers know, our roadways are cluttered with morons.  In my case, seventeen cars impatiently rambled behind the stuper in question. That wasn’t the worst part. Nor was the fact that a highway patrol who passed us showed about as much concern as he would for a crate of turnips. The worst part was that this stuper would soon brutally dash our only means of escape, which was about to appear up ahead.

The lumbering car traveled so slowly that a nimble squirrel could have darted to and fro in front of the approaching vehicle nine or ten times while the car was 50 yards away before the varmint was forced off or squished, whichever came first. Meanwhile, I testily patiently awaited the arrival of the passing lane.

When we reached the glorious, highly anticipated passing lane six miles later, the #2 and #3 vehicles behind the laggard swiftly and desperately raced ahead. But then a strange, all-too-common occurrence took place: the stuper suddenly located the accelerator pedal and sped up with a vengeance. Car #4 barely managed to pass; alas, car #5 was not so lucky. The lanes merged into one again, and at that precise moment, the incredible idiot slipped into Rapid Onset Amnesia (ROA – a popular feature of stupers), and the acceleration pedal was sadly forgotten.
We continued at speeds that would make an African Spurred Tortoise belly laugh.

A stuper is like a cow. Actually, a cow is far more useful. Think milk, filet mignon, Jimmy Choo shoes and manure. But they do share a similar mentality. When one cow is standing, chewing its cud, and suddenly notices another cow kick up its hooves and race ahead, the inert cow unthinkingly does the same, as do the rest of the cattle. This is called a stampede and is a result of the herd mentality.

The lagging stuper, being of the same herd mentality, suddenly saw a stampede of vehicles in the passing lane and turned into Mario Andretti. ROA set in shortly thereafter and stupid driving resumed.

Now you know the explanation for such irrational behavior. The cure? Install a twelve cylinder + engine (is it more important to conserve gas or beat (figuratively, this time) the stuper?). Or summon the patience of one hundred Buddhist monks (even one will do).



The Sixth Sense and Stupidity

Saturday, August 8th, 2009

Most of us thinking, breathing humans have five senses. Stupers (short for militantly stupid persons) however, carry around a sixth sense that the rest of us lack. Don’t worry; you’ll be glad you’re missing this one.

Husband (H) drove on a busy highway; a highway that conjures up a warm, special, holiday pudding type of feeling in the hearts of all Caltrans workers, as this stretch of the road has been under construction for over a decade. H’s was the third vehicle in a line of cars traveling around the speed limit of 65 mph.

A sign appeared on one side of the highway, warning, “Flagger ahead.”

A Caltrans worker, sporting the usual trendy (in the highway worker fashion industry) nylon, orange vest, stood down the road, on the side, head slightly tilted, mouth somewhat ajar, arms folded across his burly chest, staring off into the distant horizon, daydreaming undoubtedly of beers and bubble baths (I’ve heard this ale and soap suds combo is big with 4 out of 9 Caltrans workers).

Suddenly, as the lead car in front of H approached, the worker sprang to life. He ran out into the middle of the highway, frantically waving a stop sign above his empty, helmet clad head. The lead vehicle slammed on the brakes, tires screeching, swerving into the opposing lane, which fortunately was empty. The second car skidded, and H, swearing loudly, as he is wont to do in such situations, nearly spun out. The vehicle behind H maneuvered into the shoulder to avoid rear-ending H, barely missing the frantic worker, who scrambled to avoid the oncoming cars. Needless to say, the idiot worker had to deal with several irate drivers.

As ably demonstrated above, stupidity is hazardous. It causes irritation, annoyance, frustration and can even trigger aggression on the part of the receiver(s). In fact, stupidity specialists (namely myself) are now wringing their hands over the huge caseload of untreatable, highly resistant stupidity. Why resistant? Because we have just learned the cause of stupidity stems from an innate sixth sense, highly tuned in stupers. What is this sense? Nonsense.

Nonsense is accelerating in all settings, directly compromising our outcomes. “Directly compromising” is euphemistic. What it really means is that we will eventually lose our minds if we don’t do something. Again, violence is not the answer unless one is particularly attracted to rooms with bars (not the kind with shot glasses and olives, but the decorative, practical, steel enforced variety) and license plate making.

Every person is responsible for making a better world by planting the seeds of patience and harmony deeply in the human heart. Eventually, these seeds will blossom, bringing benefit to all. The authentic, intelligent human is the one who knows how to face challenges with sympathy and understanding. The mark of a great person lies in how he/she faces daily irritations. We owe it to humankind to exercise safety and thought in all of our undertakings. Yes, the Caltrans worker behaved idiotically, but wouldn’t it be better to focus on the fact that besides severe wear and tear on the brakes of the approaching cars, no one was hurt? A grateful heart offsets the ill effects of an encounter with stupidity and helps us to maintain proper perspective and peace of mind.

Try thinking.


No Cure for Stupidity

Tuesday, May 19th, 2009

Scientists are so bent on unraveling cures for important and deadly diseases, they can’t help but overlook the justifiably maligned, most irritating and ever present disorder which my dear readers know and loathe, called stupidity. Which leaves yours truly to combat this grave annoyance by her lonesome.

I’ve determined, after years of careful study, that the greatest likelihood of encountering stupidity occurs while we are in or around motor vehicles. For me, last week, the mere act of sitting in the car in a parking lot, in a large shopping center, while waiting to pick up my mom, allowed me to view a near disaster involving a stuper (short, as you all know by now, for an obstinately stupid person).

The windows of my Lamborghini coupe were rolled down, allowing me to enjoy a cool ocean breeze when the high-pitched voice of a roving idiot drifted in.

“I thought I was hung over, but I’d been partying, like three days before, so I’m like, ‘can I be hung over now?’ I was just really, really sick with like a flu or something…”

I don’t typically acknowledge conversations of this caliber, preferring to lose myself in thought or a damn good song, but idle curiosity caused me to turn and look at the idiot in question. I’m always searching for something that sets stupers apart so that the rest of us can more rapidly spot them, like a good-size, neon colored sign around their necks or a post-it on the forehead. But in this case, I saw a thirtyish woman with a cell phone pinned to one ear, bemoaning her hangover/illness, while a toddler that seemed to belong to her wandered around the parking lot. Just at that moment a vehicle turned into the lane where the tot played.

I opened my car door and my mouth to holler out when the vehicle came to a screeching halt, avoiding the little mite and catching the stuper’s fleeting attention. She then grabbed the child and threw it into a nearby shopping cart where it stood imprisoned, but thankfully safe, while the hangover rant continued.

We all witness stupidity now and then; it can’t be helped. But instead of focusing on what we can’t do, let’s focus on what we can. We can realize that our lives are nourished by kindness, positive thoughts and concern for others. Even the stupid among us. Yes, I do consider clobbering the mindless now and then, particularly in this parking lot, but I do believe that unwaveringly positive thoughts can bring about positive results. If each one of us focused on creating and recreating our minds so that progress regularly occurs, there’d be no more stupid among us…and I would happily move on to my next blog. You know the one: how to manage the bit*hes and bas*ards among us.

Just think.


Fender-bender stupidity

Monday, May 4th, 2009

If you dropped a glass on the kitchen floor and it shattered, would you leave the sharp fragments there? If you’re nodding, please immediately fill up a bucket to the brim with ice water, and stick your head in (all the way) for a good thirty seconds or until you realize the reason for the head dunking, whichever occurs first. If you admitted that you’d leave the shards of broken glass on the floor, thereby creating a hazard for other kitchen goers, you fall smack into the stuper (you know what it’s short for: a staggeringly stupid person) category. If you’re nodding as in dozing off, the bucket will work wonders in keeping you awake.

There are some mysteries more baffling than the true meaning behind Stonehenge or why the time of day with the slowest traffic is called rush hour. In this episode of Counterfeit Humans, we will discuss the puzzling mystery involving stupers and the irrational placement of their cars.

Fender benders are quite common, particularly in high traffic areas. When idiots are behind the wheel (as they usually are) during such minor mishaps, the drivers decide that the only course of action is to leave their cars right in the middle of a busy traffic lane. Seriously. Thereby holding up all surrounding traffic and creating a potential hazard.

This often occurs when neither car is disabled. And no crime scene investigation will take place. In fact, the police won’t even bother showing up without the presence of injured parties requiring immediate professional attention. In these cases, often visible damage is negligible. And as for potential internal harm to the vehicles…couldn’t that better be discussed, safely, off to the side of the road or in a nearby parking lot?

I witnessed one vehicle slightly bump into another. Both cars were abandoned by their owners in an effort to physically search for signs of damage. The rear bumper of one vehicle was carefully examined and re-examined by its owner, who paused periodically to discuss what had happened and then started the examination all over again. Meanwhile, I was stuck two cars behind them.

When trapped behind idiots, it’s best to exercise patience while plotting a safe escape.  Focus on issues rather than reactions. I needed to pick up my son, so instead of feeling infuriated at the imbecility before me, I asked myself,

“What’s the most constructive thing I can do without demonstrating anger?”

The answer came to me while I exercised surprising calm. Okay, maybe I drove a little more aggressively than I am wont to do. And had I been in a monster truck, I may have attempted to climb over the mess, but as it was, I found an opening off to my side, went carefully and cautiously in reverse and got the hell out of there and on my merry way.

The best we can do is patiently work our way around stupidity to accomplish our goals.



Stupidity and Pedestrians

Thursday, April 23rd, 2009

It appears that the vast majority of stupidity takes place while we are in or around motor vehicles. Even merely being near a car can promote idiocy.

For instance, when most of us, and I include myself in this popular category, place our vehicles in reverse in order to back out of a parking space, we typically crane our necks to carefully check behind and around us, ensuring the safety and well-being of those traveling on foot. But what if those foot travelers turn out to be stupers (short, yet again, for fundamentally stupid persons)? Should we continue to keep our cars in reverse? If so, would we be justified in embarking on a vigilante mission to annihilate stupers who obviously act stupidly? Or should we slam on the brakes, shake our heads in wonder and later entertain others with yet another tale of the stupid among us?

As I cautiously backed out of a parking space the other day, I noticed two pedestrians approaching my car; a husband and wife team, wearing identical striped shirts and jeans. They were clearly foreign tourists; perhaps that would explain the identical get-ups.

By foreign, I don’t mean they were from Tallapoosa, Alabama or Bunkie, Louisiana. I mean they were likely visitors from a different continent.

They rapidly walked toward me. The husband, as expected, passed in front of my car, safely and sanely. The wife, clearly a newly anointed daredevil or recent lobotomy recipient, decided to dash behind my car, almost touching it, totally oblivious to the fact that my vehicle was locked in motion. The most astonishing fact was that she never once flinched or turned her head, but kept looking straight ahead, without any expression. My slamming on the brakes went unnoticed. She was not visibly blind or deaf or dumb.

How do we respond to such blatant stupidity? If it brings us a sense of relief, it’s okay to react briefly. Expletives are always optional, depending on your comfort level and personality type.

“Hey you (*(#&@_!  You blind?”

Or, as I prefer, we remain calm, go home and throw a barbecue where we stage a reenactment for loved ones and close friends,  depicting what actually happened, what could have happened and/or what we would have liked to happen, regaling our amused audience with how we kept a cool head all the while. Laughter is so much more becoming than anger.

Think first, last and all of the time.


Stupidity When it Rains in California

Friday, February 6th, 2009

We’ve suffered heavy rains in California over the past few days. This triggers a particularly faulty mechanism in the already empty, mental echo chamber, otherwise known as the mind, of a stuper (short, as many of you know, for an effortlessly stupid person), causing remarkably, never-before-seen and foolhardy driving techniques. Consequently, accidents increase during even a slight drizzle. A cloudy day alone is enough to make some stupers swerve and brake more unnecessarily than usual.

Thinkers, such as the vast majority of my dear readers, realize the need to exercise additional caution on slick roads and highways. They take extra measures to ensure safety. Alas, stupers do not.

Here’s a short list detailing the idiocy of meager minds when roads are wet:

– They speed, especially around corners and on freeways. Speed limits be damned during inclement weather!;

– They disregard traffic lights, wrongly believing these signals cease to have meaning during storms. The same goes for stop signs. When stupers do stop, it’s often too late;

– They excel in tailgating the unfortunate vehicle in front closely enough to make other motorists believe the stuper driver is being towed by the front car’s driver. This is prevalent when rain is accompanied by fog;

–  They relentlessly persist in changing lanes without turn signals. TSDD (Turn Signal Deficit Disorder) is at fever pitch during California’s rainy season;

– They think spinning is what you do with your car when it rains, not what you do on a stationary bike for aerobic exercise;

– Although driving while cell phone chatting is currently illegal in California, stupers feel making calls to let everyone know it’s raining is mandatory; and

– Idiots believe a new law takes effect during the rainy season: turning one’s head when making lane changes is prohibited. All eyes must face forward. Hence, stupers randomly float in and out of lanes without looking around.

These statistics came my way courtesy of a tow truck driver who stated that even during a slight drizzle, he is so inundated by towing cars involved in accidents, that he can’t even take a simple bathroom break, thanks to the stupers-at-large.

Remember, there very well could be a stuper operating the motor vehicle(s) next to you.

Just think.


Stupidity Backs Out

Tuesday, July 29th, 2008

Contentment often springs out of helping others. But what if these others are complete and utter idiots as in the case of stupers (once again, short for rambunctiously stupid persons)?

I’m in a parking lot; a rather narrow, crowded place, potentially requiring performance driving skills in order to back out of a spot. I notice a large SUV with reverse lights ready to go. I, ever eager to display uncommon courtesy, stop a bit behind the vehicle, leaving ample room and wait. Patiently.

I change the radio station. Still patient. I roll down my window and escort a small fly outside. A sliver of my patience slips outside with the fly.

I apply lip gloss, then complete the top line of a Sudoku puzzle; I use up my last ounce of patience. I try to bum some patience off Husband, sitting in the passenger seat next to me, but his had completely run out with the fly.

I step on the gas pedal to leave and, at that very instant, guess which heretofore inert SUV driver starts to rapidly back out of his spot? I must pause here to point out that though I’ve not led a cloistered life by any means, I rarely use my car horn. In fact, my automobile is over two years old, and I’ve yet to honk. Consequently, I briefly misplaced the horn. Oh, I knew it was somewhere on the steering wheel, but dead center?

I press long and hard, startling some roosting pigeons and the brother of a friend of a stepson of a client of my husband’s whom Husband happens to recognize in the parking lot. The SUV’s rear bumper jerks to a stop, two feet short of my front fender.

I proceed forward. Husband gives the driver a look reserved for the criminally insane. He states incredulously,

“Can you believe it? He’s yelling and flipping us off! He’s mad at us!”

One of my cardinal rules: Never, ever, meet the gaze of a stuper in action if you can help it, particularly if either or both of you is driving a vehicle. I calmly ask Husband to avert his eyes.

One cardinal rule of stupers: Never, ever, bother to look behind you when reversing out of a parking spot. Too much exertion is required; besides, it is the total responsibility of other folks to exercise awareness, especially while operating a motor vehicle.

Another cardinal rule of stupers: If you don’t see a speed limit sign in a parking lot, there isn’t any!

Think and grow smart.


Stupidity Be Gone!

Monday, July 14th, 2008

Plenty of time and space is given in this blog to stupers (short, once again, for mischievously stupid persons) in order to understand and help prevent these mindless intruders from wrecking havoc and causing the rest of us annoyance, irritation and anger. However today, I’d like to acknowledge and thank a few of the thinkers I’ve come across who admirably utilize their brain power, setting positive examples for everyone.

We all (and I exclude no one from this solar system size category) have said something or acted in such a way, as to place us in the stuper category, at least momentarily. Take me, for instance. Yesterday as I drove, I heard a clunk in the backseat of my car. The handles from my rather large handbag had fallen to one side; my whole purse teetered ominously toward a dainty orchid plant I’d just purchased, threatening to decapitate its delicate single stem. It was a life or death situation for the orchid.

I drove on a one-way street. A quick glance in the rearview mirror confirmed that no cars were around me. I slowed down and reached one arm behind me to grab the purse and move it away from potential violence.

My car weaved slightly between the two lanes. As I struggled to save the orchid, I took another look at the rearview mirror and, lo and behold, an SUV appeared close behind. I listened, but heard no sound. This motorist patiently drove without honking, racing and swerving to get around me, gesturing with one finger or uttering profanities that I rightly deserved. I stopped hogging the road and returned to my own lane. Resuming proper driving, I felt grateful to be followed by a thinker. And I felt quite foolish for driving like a stuper.

My local Blockbuster video store does not exactly hire capable employees. Never mind the fact that each and every one uncannily resembles an escaped convict and rarely uses words with two or more syllables. I once asked a worker if he knew of any good Hugh Grant comedies, to which he replied,

“Who’s Hugh Grant?”

Typical response from one who’d been in the slammer too long.

But recently, one of these so called ex-con looking types not only stepped out from behind the counter to assist Husband and myself, but actually referred us to several, high quality, family type films. And he did so with a smile while using complete sentences, including some with semi-colons and question marks. His efficiency and thought so impressed us that Husband wrote a letter to the corporate headquarters about the merits of this employee. And in hopes that they exercise care in choosing workers that can and do think.

Finally, I’d like to acknowledge the kindly and thoughtful Dr. Paula Creamer whom my ninety-one-year old grandma sees when she has a mind to, which is about every other month.

Do you know of any physicians today who make house calls (and I don’t mean Dr. Pepper)? Or who telephone after your visit to see how you’re doing? Or who hold your hand during the visit and tell you how much they appreciate your coming in? And who make time to see you no matter how busy they may be? I rest my case. Dr. Creamer does all these things and more. No stuper would even consider doing any of the above without some direct, immediate benefit.

Wherever a praiseworthy quality is found, it’s something creditable to all humanity. Therefore, it’s important that we take a moment to acknowledge it in others and in ourselves. Authentic humans make the world a nicer place to live in.

We become what we think.


Stupidity on the Corner and in the Street

Monday, June 2nd, 2008

I love visiting Santa Barbara, California. It’s lovely and wild and grand and seedy and elegant; a patchwork quilt made of satin, silk, velvet and potato sack squares. Which means fistfuls of stupidity exist here and there.

In particular, there’s a stretch, more accurately, a half-block portion, embedded between bustling downtown and the sandy beach that reeks of stupers (short, yet again, for those woefully inadequate stupid persons). It was there that I witnessed a meager minded mother behind a stroller, waiting at the intersection corner. Sounds innocuous, except that the front of the stroller, carrying a round-faced cherub, sat at a downward slope, firmly planted in the street, daring passing traffic to play a rollicking game of tag while Mom stood impatiently, but safely on the sidewalk. It’s not pretty to watch frozen thought processes that likely wouldn’t even respond to jump-starting. Which reminds me, this same parent dressed warmly in sweater and knitted cap, as it was a little cool at the resort-like, yet positively popular, bohemian beach city. Baby’s bare feet dangled while the practically hairless and uncovered little head bobbed in the gentle ocean breeze. The good news was that both made it across the street. The bad news is that I next witnessed something like this:

Take note that this daredevil parent is not in any crosswalk and is maneuvering herself and her child across four lanes. Shouldn’t there be helmets? Air bags? Safety belts, a seeing-eye-dog or a police escort for this type of travel?

Finally, as I drove my merry way past this same half block yesterday, I was abruptly made to stop. No, my brakes didn’t malfunction nor did a stray couch land with a thump in front of my car. As I rounded the corner I saw a small, skinny stuper, standing in the middle of the lane. My lane.

No attempt was made to dart out of the way. In fact, my car didn’t even startle him into budging. I stopped in front of him, so close I could see the whites of his eyes and the Scooby Doo tattoo on his forearm.

I also noticed from his unmoved, cavalier expression that he was held securely in the very palm of stupidity. He moved a few steps closer to the sidewalk, but still resided in the lane. Was he playing chicken? Or was he trying to discover whether his membrane was so permeable that I could pass right through him? My mind went into spin cycle mode, trying to understand.

I gave him Look #2 (reserved for monumental cases of stupidity when nothing else seems to work). The kind of look that could shrivel an onion and curl the toes on a crow. He moved. I drove on. I looked back in my rear view mirror, and he was at it again.

Thinking is fast becoming a lost art. Imagine the price it’ll fetch for those who actually use their minds.