What is it with Left Turns?

What is it with Left Turns?

A cranky rant

There is an intersection in my little town where the traffic light is all or nothing.  That is, there is no left turn only green delay.  In one direction there is at almost any time of the day a string of cars wanting to go straight across the intersection, and one, maybe two cars waiting to turn left.

If, when the light turns green, the left turn cars do not go first they will be stranded in the intersection until the light goes amber and even then, often will not be allowed to turn except against the red.  If, in this situation you are the second car waiting to turn left, and the car in front does not creep into the intersection, you will miss the light altogether.   Two-hundred-and-seventy cars will have crossed and you have to WAIT FOR ONE MORE FRIGGIN LIGHT TO JUST TURN LEFT!

I am one of the cars that has to make this turn several times a day.  You may have guessed this is a pet peeve of mine. 

Yes, they should have a left turn only for 15 seconds, but they don’t.

What is it that cars do not want anyone to turn left in front of them?  Allowing the one or maybe two cars to turn before they cross will cause them a delay of approximately ZERO point ZERO seconds!

I have been the lead left waiting car, and I swear the car directly across from me will be eyeing the opposing light.  When it goes to amber they start to inch forward and they rev their engine.  They are intent to not let me make that turn and delay their trip by ZERO point ZERO seconds.

Yesterday I was faced with just such a situation.  I was watching the opposing light for the amber and so was this a-hole across from me in a BMW.  I inched, he inched.  Behind me was NO ONE.  Behind him was a string of cars as far as the eye could see, with more to come.  If he won this battle I would be forced to wait three minutes, cross on the red, and hope the Nazi traffic light camera does not sent me a ticket.

I inched, he inched and the light turned green.  The BMW slammed on the gas, I jumped in front of him with my Wrangler. 

Beat him!

The a-hole honked his horn at me.

You will never guess my response.  It may not have been the mature thing to do. 

I hope he missed his appointment by at least ZERO point ZERO seconds.

You Always Say That

You Always Say That

The other day I’m watching TV in bed with Mrs.  C.  It’s Sunday and there is an all-day marathon of “Four Weddings.”  I missed Saturday’s all-day marathon of “Say Yes to the Dress” but Sunday I got hooked on Four Weddings.  Yes, I know, don’t even say it, my wife is turning me gay.  The final four of the NCAA Championship was played this weekend, and I haven’t seen a single game, but I can tell you all about wedding dresses with ruching, crumb catchers and beaded bodices.

Anyway, as I hoist my rainbow flag, I was watching Four Weddings, where four couples attend their weddings and then nit-pick them to death hoping to win a trip to the Caribbean for having the best wedding.

“OMG that beef is cooked perfectly, how can those women complain it is too rare.  If it was cooked any longer they would call it shoe leather!”

“You always say that!”

“Well they always complain about the same things.”

“You always say the same things.  When we watch ‘Wheel of Fortune’ you always have to say ‘I hate the Before and After catagory’.  When we watch ‘Jeopardy’ you always have to mock Alex saying ‘Oh No!’”

Well, crap!  We’ve been married for seven years, together nine.  Who am I, George Carlin?  I’ve run out of material.  Charming and witty has gone to repetitive and boring.  What the hell do couples who have been married for 30, 40, 50 years talk about?  Is that why we lose our memory as we age, to keep things fresh?

How is it this woman can watch the same movie again and again and not get tired of it but complain because I make the same observations over and over.

“I never hear you complain about watching ‘Pretty Woman’ once a month!  Why do you complain if I repeat myself now and then?”

“First of all, you aren’t Richard Gere, and second ‘Now and then?’ How about ‘all-the-time!’”

“You could use some new material too!  Like every time I repeat myself, do you have to tell me ‘You always say that’, or ‘You’re a Jerk’?”

“OK, how about instead of ‘YOU’RE A JERK!’; ‘YOU’RE AN ASS!’”

“I hate you.”

“You always say that.”

GOLF “The Masters” - TRADITION

GOLF “The Masters” - TRADITION

This week starts "The Masters"

This cranky re-run is from April 2013 

If you hate golf, don't understand it or just think it is a waste of time, I get it, no need to read further and certainly no need to tell me how and why you hate something I love.  I am respectful of photography, knitting, quilting, ballet, and a lot of other stuff that I think is absolute crap  don't understand.  

Thank you.

Tomorrow is the start of THE MASTERS golf tournament. This is my favorite tournament.  I love The Masters because the golf course is just sooo beautiful.  

This is a course whose members are all super wealthy and powerful.  The course is ready for play for the tournament every April, just in time for the azaleas to bloom.  The course is all about the “Master’s Green.”  Everything is a deep beautiful green color.  The cart paths are green, the garbage cans are green, the drink cups are green, the fairways are green and flawless, and of course the Greens are green.

After the tournament, members are allowed to play at Augusta for several months.  The rest of the year is spent assuring that the golf course is immaculate for the next year’s tournament.*

I visited The Masters, once, in 1985.  In those days the course was open for practice rounds for $15 entrance fee.  (I am told that even these practice round tickets are impossible to get today.)  I was struck by the beauty of the golf course and how perfectly it was groomed.  I left thinking I could never play on this golf course.  Taking a divot and spoiling the magnificence of the course would seem sacrilegious to me.

Rules at Augusta are somewhat quirky but very strictly enforced.  Up until several years ago women were not allowed as members.  This got the hackles up of the liberal media and woman’s groups intent on ending these antiquated “Country Club” rules.  They railed that being a member gave men an upper hand in conducting business and that excluding women was sexist and unfair.  Well it was clearly sexist, an unfair business advantage…come on…silly argument…not one for this post.  Augusta was the last bastion of sexism and they fought hard to keep it.  Some years ago, threatened with a boycott, advertisers refused to support the TV broadcast unless the Club allowed women members.  The membership would not budge.  They stepped up and paid for the broadcast themselves and for several years the tournament was broadcast commercial free.  Eventually the club relented and allowed woman members, but they showed they would not give up tradition without a fight.

Condi - New Member

Billionaire Darla Moore - New member



The Augusta club is all about tradition.  It is all about rules.  My brother tells a story** of a member who brought two very important politicians (let’s just say Senators) to play a round.  The member was informed that there must be one member playing for each guest invited.  The member insisted these were very important guests and the rule should be bent.  Wrong Club!  Rules were rules.  An emergency phone call was made to recruit another member in order to complete the foursome and allow both Senators to play.

Silly?  Yes, but I think it is nice that there is at least one place left in this country where tradition is respected and protected just for tradition sake.

Here are some other Augusta strictly enforced traditions (unwritten rules):

No running.

No lying down on the grass.

No cell phones.

Fans are not fans, they are patrons.

The back nine must never be referred to as the “Back side.” (Crude).

Don’t be “Cute.” A TV announcer was once removed from his duty because he referred to the Gallery as a “Mob.”

No tipping- Caddies are to be paid what “You think they were worth.” I am guessing caddies are seldom disappointed.

No bare feet.

Ball caps must not be worn backwards! (This is my personal favorite)

Ricky is just a kid, no no no!

But Jack! You know better.

Are these rules silly and capricious?  Some…maybe…but that is what makes the Masters special! 

I would like just one more rule…NO JOHNNY MILLER ANNOUNCING ON TV, or has he become a tradition…oh well, gotta take the good with the bad.

I LOVE THE MASTERS!

*Some facts about The Masters may be incorrect, but Cranky Old Man is too lazy to research and confirm what he believes to be true.

** See above, I'm even too lazy to call my brother and fact check this story.