I have a wonderful niece who lives in a suburb north of Atlanta, so for many years I have had to endure traffic jams when driving to visit her family. When I drive through the heart of the metropolis, I am either stuck in a traffic jam at full throttle or speeding along at 90 mph trying to keep up with the bumper-to-bumper madness.
In the struggle with my raging, suicidal colleagues, I have acquired a rather colorful vocabulary with which I hurl insults, curses and jeers. Hoople head. Half-formed mooncalf. Platypus milker. And much worse.
Oh, by the way, the traffic congestion in Atlanta these days starts somewhere south of Macon.
Traffic in Tallahassee isn’t as crazy as our neighbors to the north, nor is it as clinically insane as Miami to the south, but I thought now that college students are back on the streets in droves, it would be a good time to discuss Tallahassee traffic and its idiosyncrasies.
Driving around the capital during peak season is crowded, unbearable, and downright weird. Here’s a quick guide to what’s new and not-so-new in Tallahassee:
Yellow light means accelerate
Drivers here run red lights for fun. Tallahassee seems to mean “pretend the light is just an obstacle and step on it” in the Muskogee language. Before you drive on when the light is green, count to three and look both ways. You’ll thank me later.
Let’s park at one of the three colleges
Let’s forget that. Parking a car on the campus of FAMU, FSU, or Tallahassee Community College, oops, Tallahassee State College, is a great metaphor for life. It’s a nearly impossible task, time-consuming, frustrating, usually congested, not good for your blood pressure, and the quickest way to get towed. There are these things called bikes, public transportation, and walking, but most Americans pretend they don’t exist.
Tallahassee’s missing turn signals
Most drivers seem unaware that all cars and trucks are equipped with a turn signal – or blinkers, as they are called in the South. (Drivers are probably busy on their phones and texting to look.) The turn signal indicates which way a driver intends to turn or change lanes. Apparently, indicating direction is illegal in these areas out of respect for other drivers. It’s up to you to guess which way a driver is turning, left or right. I suggest singing “Mind Games” by John Lennon while you do it.
Motorcyclists and cyclists are invisible
When you ride a motorcycle, scooter, bicycle, or any other motorized two-wheeled transportation in this city, remember that the people driving motorized vehicles do not want to see you. Always be defensive and have the firm belief that every single driver is out to run you over and kill you. May luck always be on your side.
What about all the roundabouts here?
I have no idea. We are not an English community. We are all not fans of the Yes song ‘Roundabout’. I have said it before, nobody knows how they work. Just shout ‘ramming speed’ and carry on.
Gentle hills, gentle stops
First, if you’re coming from the flat areas to the south, Tallahassee has steep inclines called hills. The FAMU and FSU campuses offer stunning views of the city. However, hardly anyone driving a four-wheeled vehicle down a hill comes to a full stop at a stop sign. And come to think of it, nobody else comes to a full stop at a stop sign either. Tallahassee should be known as the land of rolling stop signs, not the land of rolling hills.
Hey kids, it’s time for a rant
Why do most TV news reports report Interstate 10 accidents using mile markers? Last Monday morning, a semi-truck overturned “near mile marker 194.” I’ve been driving Interstate 10 in this area for over 40 years. I have no idea where mile marker 194 is. If the report had said “near the Midway intersection,” “near the Gretna exit,” or “just outside of Quincy,” it would be clearer. Less clinical, more local. Talk like people really talk, you know.
Blinded by the headlights
Since when are halogen headlights legal? Has the governor approved of this idea? The retina-burning lights on the opposite lane are a hazard at night. It’s like a UFO is hurtling toward you and you’re about to get a nasty probe.
When the rain comes
We live in Florida. It rains. It rains a lot. Humid subtropical climate and all. Like driving through an automatic car wash some afternoons. Rain so thick you can hardly see anything. Why is this always the time when other drivers think it’s safe to drive faster? Do they grab surfboards during hurricanes? Do they have a death wish?
Parking at Trader Joe’s
Visit Trader Joe’s on any given afternoon and the store looks like a frat house. I get it. The small grocery chain offers tasty Indian food in its frozen food section, a wide selection of wines, cheap flowers, and so on. The parking lot, however, resembles a freshly dug-up anthill. There’s an online parody of German director Werner Herzog recounting a visit to Trader Joe’s. It begins: “Madness reigns. The first challenge your soul must overcome is the parking lot. You wait while your car half blocks traffic, creating a perfect circular vortex of fury that surrounds the street and the store’s entrance. Once you get into the parking lot, you discover that this is only an illusion; other motorists stop and drive off, seemingly thoughtlessly or without a plan. … The drivers seem immune to geometry.” This is even funnier when read in Herzog’s breathy German accent. And so, so true.
Mark Hinson is a former senior editor at The Tallahassee Democrat. He can be reached at [email protected]
