Letting off Steam

I can't claim the knowledge of the enthusiast, but I believe steam engines let off steam (with a big hissing cloud) when they're not actually going anywhere - idling, as it were - to prevent a dangerous build up of pressure.  I guess that's what I'm doing here, in a number of ways.

Last weekend things were running somewhat ahead of my usual schedule, and I looked forward to a relaxing time.  It was also going to be a long weekend, because the van was going in for a service on Monday.  My expectations were fulfilled, and on Sunday and Monday I enjoyed the 'aftermath' of the family history project that has absorbed much of my free time for the last six months or so.  Having compiled it and made it available to others, I have now begun to add some of the information to my own tree, in 'consumer mode'.

I recovered the van late in the afternoon, in time for the usual paperwork visit to the office.  It had been so hot that I rather hoped that a long evening/night job might be available, as had been the case the previous Monday, when I went to Liverpool.  Not so, however, and although I enjoyed as always going to bellringing practice, it meant that my weekly coffers were still empty.  That situation remained unchanged on Tuesday morning, owing to a misunderstanding about my position on the list.  Work in the other three-and-a-half days has consisted mainly of local jobs, with the furthest I travelled being only to Coalville, Leics., its nearest rival being a considerably shorter distance.  The result is that my likely income will be approximately half what I would expect it to be in a normal week.

So pressure builds, and it seems appropriate to let off steam.  But it's good, if possible, to do so in a positive, or at least constructive way.  Some while ago, I used this platform to denounce those people who insist on driving into a parking space.  My reasons were logical and, I believe, conclusive; I won't elaborate on them further here (but do, please, refer to that earlier blog!)  Instead I'll describe my other main professional grouse about other road-users.

The main road that runs past my lounge window is usually quiet.  It passes through a business and industrial sector of the Garden City, and the only reason I live here is because a factory was demolished in the 1980s, and the local council at the time decided that a housing development was a more appropriate replacement than a new factory unit.  Indeed, it is so quiet that on some evenings young people scorch past, intent on proving just how fast they can drive their vehicles before braking at the last moment in order not to run into the roundabout at the end of the road!

A little way along the road is a point where there is a Sikh Temple on one side, and a Pentecostal Church on the other.  Consequently, as I return from my own church on a Sunday morning it is quite normal to find a row of parked cars along each side of the road.  Sadly, it is also quite normal to drive between these two rows of stationary vehicles to find myself at the end of them facing an equally stationary car nowhere near the kerb, its driver peering anxiously around the last parked car to see when the middle of the road will be 'clear'.

My grouse about this category of drivers is twofold.  As I've stated above, this is a main (i.e. 'C-class' road.  It's not a country lane.  Its width is sufficient for four normal vehicles abreast with adequate passing clearance.  Unless someone has parked untidily there is ample room for the parked car and a passing vehicle on each side of the white line down the middle of the road.  Firstly, then, I contend that every driver (except, perhaps someone driving a new vehicle for the first week or two) should have a 'feel' of the width of his vehicle; not perhaps in feet and inches, or metres, but to know at sight the size of gap through which it will pass if driven carefully.  They should therefore realise that, nine times out of ten, there is room for us to pass each other while both travelling between these two ranks of parked cars. 

Ah yes, I can hear my critics denounce, but you wouldn't like it if someone were to crash into you as they pulled out to join you in this merry pasodoble.  Quite right, I wouldn't; but here's my second point.  Often this 'rabbit', staring into the headlamps of the oncoming car, has pulled up much too closely behind the parked cars.  From this point, it's impossible for him to pull out to pass them without crossing the white line, and being a threat to the other driver.  He should have made his decision earlier, positioned his car correctly, and stopped if necessary, at least a car's length earlier (and preferably more.)  His pulling-out angle would then have been much narrower, he would have been able to see that he didn't need to stop, and the whole stand-off would have been avoided.

Just to underline the point about knowing the width of a vehicle, I have sometimes followed such a driver who, when the road is clear, drives almost down the middle of the road, seemingly with no idea where his near-side is in relation to hedge, verge, or parked cars, and forcing others to wait unnecessarily for him to pass majestically by.

I realise that I'm fortunate in having a vast excess of practice over the average driver, but by virtue of that I feel some justification in saying these things.  I cannot condemn someone who prefers caution and safety to recklessness and danger.  But I can point out how a little consideration and learning can improve road use for all.

Let me end on a lighter note.  This morning's theme in church was ... church.  What are we there for, what is the point of our gathering, belonging, believing, and so on.  One of the aspects of this teaching was togetherness, and began with an amusing illustration.  About a dozen prepared 'volunteers' stood in a tight circle, all facing the same way around the circle, and then sat down.  As they squatted with care, each was sitting on the lap of the one behind, and each formed the 'chair' for the one in front.  There was mutual and simultaneous giving and receiving.

I'm reminded of one of those 'public information' cartoons that appeared on TV long ago.  Two motorists approached a junction; both stopped, both heads emerged from the cars.  Each driver ushered the other to make his turn first.  "After you, Charles" ... " No, after you, Claude!"  And the caption said, "a little more give and take on the road."