Are We Americans Too Hyper? A Guest Post by Rube
Greetings friends. Rube is back with another guest post giving some of his insight. So with no further ado, here’s Rube. Enjoy.
Howdy folks. It’s me agin, Rube. I’d like to talk about an affliction we Americans have. I’m thinkin’ we’re too hyper. It seem as how it shows up in most everthin’ we do. Some folks have to have a a new computer about ever six months so they can have the latest, more powerful fastest version that’ll boot up 15 or 20 seconds faster than the one they have now. I allows as how we Americans are too hyper.
Then there is our drivin’ habits. As I drive around Pocatello here in Ideeho, I see this hyper activity in our drivin’ habits, too. And I’d wager it’s not confined to just Pocatello, Ideeho, neither. I reckon Will sees it in Tucson where he lives, too. I’d wager the same scenes is taken’ place all over America. Let’s start with them moms who are a drivin’ kids to school, or dance lessons, or piano lessons, or soccer practice, or basketball practice–whatever. They come up behind me and tailgate because I’m drivin’ the speed limit, or mebbe slightly less because I reckon I have a mite too much Scotch blood a runnin’ through my Irish veins to allow the local gendarmes(that’s a fancy word for police I learned ta other day) to extract any money from me because I was over runnin’ the speed limit. I’m a watchin’ in the rear view mirror and see these young nervous ladies’ hands a fidgetin’ and their fingers are drummin’ on the steerin’ wheel because I’m slowin’ down their progress. (I’m able to see this because they’re all but ridin’ in old Gertrude’s pickup box (Gertrude’s my black 1941 pickup truck I told you about in one of my earlier posts on this blog). My thinkin’ is they waited too long ta git started for their destination, and now, they’s a runnin’ late. And of course it’s my fault because I’m drivin’ too show; and of course it ain’t their their fault because they got started too late. Are we Americans too hyper?
An I don’t mean to be pickin’ on just the moms, neither. There was the guy in one of them high falutuin’ expensive Lexus auteemobiles who come a speedin’ up behind me last winter on a two lane street, and he was drivin’ much too fast for Ideeho winter slick road conditions. (I suppose he allowed as how since he could afford a Lexus, this gave him the right to drive as fast as he wanted to, speed limit or not, or slick roads or not.) When he wasn’t ridin’ Gertrude’s tail within ten feet, he was a roamin’ out to the left or to the right to see if he could see an openin’ on how to get by me. This went on for a mile or so. Then he finally roars around me barely missin’ a on comin’ car, only to go up the road less than a a quarter mile or so where he come up behind another snail like me causin’ him the same frustration he experienced while he was a followin’ me. He was forced to follow this car two or three miles the rest of the way into downtown a weavin from one side of the road to the other tryin’ to git around. I’m a tellin’ ya, folks, we Americans is too hyper.
Then, there was them two “boys” (about age 40) that was playin’ in their toys. One wuz in a Ford F-250 with its screamin’ V-8 Power Stroke diesel, an’ the other one was in a Dodge Ram 2500 with his roarin’ Cummins in line 6, havin’ their own drag race runnin’away from the stop lights. They raced’ down old hi-way 30 billowin’ black smoke just like them old railroad steam engines of yesteryear, each tryin’ to outdo the other until they come up on another stop light. That was at the time when diesel fuel hit four dollars a gallon, so I’m surmisin’ they probably wasted about four bucks worth of diesel fuel in less than a quarter mile with that little macho demonstration. I come a moseyin’ along behind doin the speed limit and pulled up behind em just as the light turned green again. They had been waiting at the red light for about a minute and a half. This shenanigan went on for about four more stop lights with the same result. I sill say, we Americans is too hyper.
Now, folks, let’s not forget the macho guy who comes up beside you in his jacked up four x four pickup with oversized tires. The light turns green and he roars away at lightnin’ speed with his foot in the carburetor, (or fuel fuel pump, if it’s a diesel) shiftin through all four on the floor, an’ then he comes to a screechin’ halt at the next stop light so he can do it all over agin. And, oh! oh! oh! oh!, have you ever noticed the car that is first in line at the stop light; how it keeps inchin’ ahead several times as if to say, “okay traffic light, you been on red long enough, it’s time to change now.” We Americans are too hyper.
So if you’re a drivin’ around somewhere in the good ol’ U.S.A., and come up behind a doddering old codger in a black 1941 Ford pickup truck a drivin’ the speed limit (or less) and there’s a string of traffic comin’ our way so’s you can’t pass, you’ll know it’s me doin’ my part to help prevent some of you from givin’ up a portion of your hard earned money to the judge. Oh…and you environmentalists out there can take joy in knowin I’m a doin my part to protect the environment by conservin fuel. But we Americans is still too hyper.
Now whiles I have yer attention, why don’t you click on the free download button on this here website of Will’s and get yore free copy of his book Buddy…His Trials and Treasures. If you’re lookin’ fer a brief couple of hours’ respite from today’s harrowin’ world to help ya slow down and relax a bit, this little book might just be fer you. See ya next time.
Rube image by Lori Corbett – Third Raven Design – email@example.com