Put snow with vehicles, and chaos is bound to occur. This past week I and a few people I know have fallen victim to winter related car problems. One of my office managers was traveling on the New Jersey Turnpike when one of the many trucks surrounding him had a bad case of roof dandruff erupt and the resulting accumulated snow landed in his lap after shattering his windshield. Another friend was in an accident as well. The PA Turnpike had a multi-vehicle mishap which snarled traffic for miles as one car or truck after the other slid to stop and could not find enough empty roadway to do so safely.
The problem with today’s drivers is that our speeds are too high, our braking distance too short, and our time shorter (even though we are still on a 24-hour day). Even when a major highway has a low number of vehicles, we tend to speed up to congregate with those ahead of us, and then complain because we have to apply the brakes. If you are complaining because you have to apply brakes, you are too close to the guy in front of you. Slow the heck down.
Truckers do not seem to have access to something with which they can clear their roofs, and I and many a driver on the road with me will fall behind one of these behemoths trailing plumes of light snow or hurling chunks of congealed snow and ice like oversized discus to shatter on the road (or crash into our windshields). What would it take to fix this? Perhaps two tall stationary poles with a large rope strung between them under which a truck could drive and scrape the offensive material off. What about one of those car wash brush attachments hung from the roof of the warehouse or garage? Two guys with hoses on ladders? Come on, folks; it’s snow removal, not rocket science.
So what has been happening to me? In the past three weeks, I have lost two windshield wiper blades to the storm. The first time I pulled into the service station and asked if they had a replacement for my passenger side; they did, but the young fellow (who, I assume, took a job in a service station to learn about cars) could not figure out how to remove the old wiper blade. An older gentlemen from the service bay–and who was apparently born in the days before guys were allowed to attain the age of 18 without knowing how to change a wiper blade–did the job in a minute flat. Two days ago part of the clamp on the driver’s side blade broke, so though my wiper functions well enough, the arm flies off its track with each swipe. I pulled into the same service station last night; the young fellow asked if I could come back in ten minutes so the other (I assume older) man could help him. By that time, I was fixing dinner. On the stove. Without a microwave. My kitchen skills are old school, while it seemed I was in a world where service stations no longer have simple repair skills.
Finding myself short an able-bodied man to fix my wiper blade (and, though I think that, with the motivation, I could do the repair myself), I figured I still have a good blade without the annoyance of the assembly being unsecured, so I pulled a twist tie from the kitchen and tied the assembly together. It took ten seconds, it was free, and required no skills beyond common sense. With any luck, the next week will restore some to all the drivers out there, and there will be no more of the craziness from snow on the brain.
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