Back on the soap box(s) again


It happened again Monday just after 7:00 a.m. while on my way to work. The traffic signal facing me at the intersection of Hillsboro Street and Hwy. 80 in Forest turned green. I was on Hillsboro so that means the light had to be red on the side the folks traveling on Highway 80 were on. Everyone knows that, right? Now unless there was some malfunction, which I don’t believe there was, that means the grey pickup truck traveling to the east that flew under the traffic signal, did, in fact, run the red light.
Earlier this year a log truck did the exact same thing heading in the exact same direction. That time I was on the opposite side of the traffic signal heading home after work and almost got plastered by the truck. In fact, everything in the back end of my Expedition ended up in the front with me.
Two weeks ago I was run off the highway three times within about a 10 mile range while on my way to the house. There was a truck towing a horse trailer all the way in my lane, an 18 wheel transport truck that swung way over in a curve, and a little green car driven by a very careless person, likely on a cell phone.
I know I’ve belly ached about this again and again in this space, but considering that the front page of last week’s paper carried a story about four different vehicular accidents that killed a total of five people in one week’s time frame, it seems the belly aching is well grounded. In addition, two of the four accidents involved log trucks and one a transport truck.
Enough said.
No, it is not!
The same weekend that I was run off the road three times in a matter of minutes, another log truck driver decided to pass a farm tractor in a blind spot along Highway 21. The result was the oncoming SUV taking the shoulder and the tractor heading to the ditch. The log truck just kept going, according to my wife who knows the people involved.
No one was injured, fortunately, and there was no vehicle damage either, but that doesn’t mean the same will hold true the next time.
According to Wikipedia, the phrase “you can’t beat a dead dog” means “to continue a particular endeavour that is a waste of time as the outcome is already decided.” That may be the case with my constant rants on the careless drivers around these parts, but rest assured I will continue to keep up the good work.
Personally, I believe it is time to start slapping some pretty hefty fines on these reckless drivers. They certainly won’t be difficult to locate since me and a lot of other good folks I know are seeing them all the time. I don’t know how much a load of logs brings a driver when it comes to a paycheck, but I’m betting you a $500 fine would go a long way toward killing a load. Better a load than a human being, right? Right!
Now, rambling right on to something else. Also on Monday morning, when co-worker,  Melissa Geter, walked though the front door I could almost tell what she was thinking before she ever opened her mouth. Then she said something like, “I was just listening to the news,” and I finished her sentence for her with something like, “I know, it is horrible, isn’t it?”
Without ever mentioning the word Vegas we both knew we were talking about the massacre there the night before. “All those families,” she said, and I asked, “did they say why he did it?”
This has been another one of my soap boxes for a long time. Crazy people with guns, that is.
It is easy to say guns don’t kill people, people kill people, and I do believe that is true. I have guns. Most of the folks I know have guns whether they be for protection, for hunting, or just for collecting.
Our task has got to be not to figure out a way to take away a person’s guns, but rather to figure out a way to determine who the distraught are, and how we can stop them before they start taking out their frustration on thousands of concert goers just out to have a good time like what happened Sunday night in Las Vegas.
Guns don’t kill people, people kill people. Add a few words and the phrase still rings true. Guns don’t kill people, troubled people “with guns” kill people.
Where in the world do we begin?