Uncle Roger's Notebooks of Daily Life
My life is, to me, ripe with frequent challenges, occasional successes, spontaneous laughter, adequate tears, and enough *life* to last me a lifetime. To you, however, it surely seems most pedestrian. And therefore, I recycle the name I used previously and call this my Notebooks of Daily Life. Daily, because it's everyday in nature, ordinary. These conglomeration of events that are my life are of interest to me because I live it, perhaps mildly so to those who are touched by it, and could only be of perverse, morbid curiosity to anyone else. Yet, I offer them here nonetheless. Make of them what you will, and perhaps you can learn from my mistakes.
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Tuesday, September 28, 2004
280 Northbound, heading into San Francisco from the penninsula, Joins up with Highway 1 and then splits again in Daly City.
280 North continues off to the right towards downtown while Highway 1 continues North, eventually following 19th Avenue to Golden Gate Park and towards the Golden Gate Bridge. At the point where Highway 1 turns onto 19th avenue, there are four lanes headed north. The first and second lanes (from the left/West) turn left to jog onto 19th. The third lane can either turn left or continue straight onto Junipero Serra Boulevard.
The fourth lane has the choice of going straight onto Junipero Serra or turning right in a little cut-out, peel-off, right-turn exit-kind-of-thing. Cars making a right turn don't actually go all the way to the limit line at the intersection; they turn off sonner than that. The right turn lane actually cuts off the corner, leaving a little triangle-shaped island of sidewalk at the intersection.
Last night, coming home from dinner, we were in the right hand lane zipping along when a car came up on our left and suddenly cut in front of us to try and make the right turn. I stood on the brakes and did my best not to hit him, but I ended up hitting his right rear quarter-panel.
He kinda fish-tailed, straightened up, got to the intersection, and made the illegal right turn around the island. He would have kept going, except that I was right behind him, honking all the way. We pulled over by the back side of the gas station and got out to survey the damage. He was, not surprisingly, a fairly young kid. When we got out, and for the whole time we spoke, he had a cellphone earbud in his ear. I don't think he was on the phone as we spoke, and I don't know if he was on the phone when he made his ill-fated turn, but if he had any brains whatsoever, he would have taken it out before getting out of the car.
So, he car had a couple of decent dents with a fair bit of black paint from our bumper. Our bumper was out of whack, enough so that I was concerned about the strength and integrity of the mounts. If we're going to put a winch on there, I don't want the bumper falling off the first time we use it. Well, our friend didn't seem to think it was worth dealing with, but when I pressed the issue, he wanted to simply write a check.
Given that I didn't know how much it would cost to fix or even if this guy had any money, I declined. I took down all his info, gave him mine, and we went on our merry ways.
So, today I come in to work, and there sitting on my desk is the freebie magazine from Four Wheel Parts Wholesalers with a article listed on the cover: