Seattle Driver Backs up While Texting

Yes, I recently watched a woman do this. Luckily not from behind her car.

Whether you walk, bike, or drive, you are at risk from those who take their attention off the road to see what's on their phone. For what? A cute cat picture? Something to pick up from the store?

Is it worth a life?

As my regular readers know, I have some strong opinions about using a cell phone while driving that go well beyond "don't."

At highway speeds, in the time it takes you to glance away from the road to look at your phone, even just to see who called, you're covering the length of a football field.

How many bodies is that?

Remember when cigarette smokers claimed they weren't hurting anyone but themselves so they should be able to smoke where and when they liked? Smoking laws arose because enough people decided that it simply wasn't true.

When the cellphone-while-driving body-count gets high enough, maybe we'll decide it isn't true that drivers can safely share that much attention with the road.

In the meantime, while the pile of bodies is still not large enough to get our culture's keen attention on the matter, how do we convince people not to text and drive?

One way is to insist that they do. In 2012, a Brussels Driving Centre required teens to text during a driving test. See what happened here. What would it take to include something like this on the practical part of the drivers' test?

Another way is to use the technology itself. It would be relatively easy to write an app that tracks cell phone motion patterns to determine if someone is driving or not, and then whether they are texting or talking, and report that to their auto-insurance company. Or the police. Anyone working on this? Can I help?

And lastly, social condemnation can move mountains. You know that look you give someone when they light up a cigarette near the picnic table at which you and your family are eating? Do that. Scowl. Shake your head. Wag your finger.

Just be careful and stay out of the direct line from their car to your body. Bad judgment while driving is not limited to cell phone use.

A Compass, a Magnifying Glass, and a Lawyer

Want to park in Seattle?  Bring a compass, a magnifying glass for small print, and a lawyer to resolve multiple and often conflicting directives.

I got my first parking ticket in this city shortly after arriving, courtesy of a set of signs very much like this one.

Legal parking in Seattle requires not only exceptional eyesight and an unerring sense of direction (even when the streets aren't on a grid), but also the ability to resolve confusing and unclear language.

Let's think about this for a moment. If the city really cared about making parking effective rather than skimming dollars off people who aren't clever enough or lack sufficient time to decipher these various signage clues, these signs would be clear and unambiguous.  It's not that difficult to make clear signs.

I don't have anything against parking limitations. What I object to is revenue enhancement apathetically (and pathetically) disguised as civic infrastructure.

This is just one more way that Seattle shows it doesn't care about its citizens' welfare anywhere near as much as it cares about their dollars.

The Rosemary

Yesterday was Mother's Day, so I planted a garden. No, that's not why, but it seemed like a good day for it. And, yes, I did call my mother, thanks for asking! (Hi, Mom!)

You'll want to know what I planted, I suppose. I'm an old fashioned girl, raised on Simon and Garfunkel, so you know what I planted.

Except for the rosemary. No need.

There's a lot of rosemary in Seattle. And some of these bushes are nearly as big as trees. I have this feeling that if you have more than a square foot of dirt under your control and you don't have rosemary, you ought to be looking over your shoulder. Something about the way the rosemary looks at me as I walk by, I guess.

Rosemary doesn't mess around. It makes small, practical flowers. It puts out a powerful scent. It handles drought and water with equal aplomb. It's not invasive like mint or ivy - that would be, well, rude. But it's quite serious.


Actually, I wonder if maybe there's only one rosemary plant in this city. And the roots go way, way down.

Sure, take some sprigs as you walk by. No problem. The rosemary has plenty to spare. It's not afraid of you and your little fingers. It'll just make more.

I see rosemary, I nod respectfully.