Take cover: I feel a rant coming on. You have been warned.
There are many things I love about Chicago, but even I have to admit they get some things hideously wrong. The one thing Chicago needs -- well, besides decent healthcare for the poor and affordable housing that isn't being swallowed up by condo developers and police that treat complaints equally seriously whether they come from white yuppiescum newbies or long-time Latino neighborhood residents and politicians who aren't reflexively corrupt and an environment that isn't so piss poor that people actually get excited when the river is upgraded from "toxic" to "polluted" and the ability to cut thin-crust pizza into pie-like slices instead of a stupid grid and an equitable treatment of the school system and the weather oh god the weather -- besides all that, what Chicago really needs is left turn arrows.
I grew up in a reasonably normal place (except for... well, I'll do my Delaware rant another day), where, when you came to a busy intersection, you could be reasonably sure you would be saved from traffic chaos by left turn arrows. That way, the people who need to turn left across oncoming traffic to get to where they're going could feel reasonably secure in do so without having to fear getting creamed by that oncoming semi. Chicago scoffs at such namby-pamby niceties. Of the approximately 13,067 intersections in Chicago, about, say, 20 of them have left turn arrows.
This means that the vast majority of times you do want to turn left in the greater Chicagoland area, you end up doing the Dance of Potential Grievous (Car) Bodily Injury: The light turns green. You wait a few cautious seconds, then creep into the center of the intersection, inches from oncoming traffic, nose to nose with the car from the other direction that wants to turn left. Usually that car is a Big Old Honkin' SUV (TM) with tinted windows, or a garbage truck, or something similarly large and opaque that precludes you from seeing oncoming traffic until it's right on top of you. If you're lucky, there's a visible break in traffic and you can turn left, tires squealing, bowels clenching, and just manage to avoid being clipped by the titanium-plated Ford Explorer with with People Crushing Front Grill Attachment. If you're not lucky, you sit and wait, straining to see around your opposite left-turn-wannabe, until the light turns yellow. Then you pray that no one is going to try to blow through that yellow light, and you turn, with the aforementioned wheels and bowels and all the rest. the three other people who wanted to turn left, and who therefore vacuum-sealed themselves to your bumper as you stuck out into the intersection, follow you through the now-red light. You all mop your sweating brows and vow to only make right turns for the remainder of your Chicago-based lives.
All of this works really well so long as everyone respects the yellow lights. Unfortunately, I earned to drive in a normal place where yellow lights are more suggestions that strictures. I'm used to breezing through that yellow light until the last possible moment before it turns red. that means I have often found myself screaming "Sorrrrrrrrrryyyyyy!" at the top of my lungs as I lunge through an intersection at the expense of the hapless left-turn exiles. I don't mean to do it, it's just instinctual.
Because left turn arrows are so rare in this city, they are correspondingly precious. That's why I don't understand why people don't respect the left turn arrow. It's maddening. About half the city's left turn arrows are arrayed up and down North Michigan Avenue, "The Magnificent Mile," which stretches from the Chicago river to Lakeshore Drive. I had to walk up and down the length of North Michigan Ave. running errands over lunch, and I have to say, PEOPLE, RESPECT THE LEFT TURN ARROW! that means you, pedestrians, who wander out into the intersection because the light for cross-traffic has turned red, neglecting to notice that we don't have the walk sign because the people turning off Michigan Ave. have, wonder or wonders miracle or miracles, a left turn arrow. But they can't complete their legal, non-hazardous left turn, because you, princess in the fur coat, or you, stinky cigar guy, do not respect the left turn arrow. Please folks: Celebrate the left turn arrow. Embrace the left turn arrow. Respect the left turn arrow. Wait the extra 10 seconds until we get the walk sign. It's really not that difficult.
And you, YOU, Mr. Lexus Boy -- You have a left turn arrow. That means you turn when the arrow tells you to. You do not have an excuse to follow on the driver who actually makes it through the arrow. The arrow will turn green for you again. Really. You need not fear it will go away. Just wait your freakin' turn, ok?
Here endeth the rant. Next time: Why people at work who take their food out of the microwave before the clock runs out but don't hit "clear," so the clock continues to blink "1:23" or however much time is left, should be keel-hauled.
Or not.
There are many things I love about Chicago, but even I have to admit they get some things hideously wrong. The one thing Chicago needs -- well, besides decent healthcare for the poor and affordable housing that isn't being swallowed up by condo developers and police that treat complaints equally seriously whether they come from white yuppiescum newbies or long-time Latino neighborhood residents and politicians who aren't reflexively corrupt and an environment that isn't so piss poor that people actually get excited when the river is upgraded from "toxic" to "polluted" and the ability to cut thin-crust pizza into pie-like slices instead of a stupid grid and an equitable treatment of the school system and the weather oh god the weather -- besides all that, what Chicago really needs is left turn arrows.
I grew up in a reasonably normal place (except for... well, I'll do my Delaware rant another day), where, when you came to a busy intersection, you could be reasonably sure you would be saved from traffic chaos by left turn arrows. That way, the people who need to turn left across oncoming traffic to get to where they're going could feel reasonably secure in do so without having to fear getting creamed by that oncoming semi. Chicago scoffs at such namby-pamby niceties. Of the approximately 13,067 intersections in Chicago, about, say, 20 of them have left turn arrows.
This means that the vast majority of times you do want to turn left in the greater Chicagoland area, you end up doing the Dance of Potential Grievous (Car) Bodily Injury: The light turns green. You wait a few cautious seconds, then creep into the center of the intersection, inches from oncoming traffic, nose to nose with the car from the other direction that wants to turn left. Usually that car is a Big Old Honkin' SUV (TM) with tinted windows, or a garbage truck, or something similarly large and opaque that precludes you from seeing oncoming traffic until it's right on top of you. If you're lucky, there's a visible break in traffic and you can turn left, tires squealing, bowels clenching, and just manage to avoid being clipped by the titanium-plated Ford Explorer with with People Crushing Front Grill Attachment. If you're not lucky, you sit and wait, straining to see around your opposite left-turn-wannabe, until the light turns yellow. Then you pray that no one is going to try to blow through that yellow light, and you turn, with the aforementioned wheels and bowels and all the rest. the three other people who wanted to turn left, and who therefore vacuum-sealed themselves to your bumper as you stuck out into the intersection, follow you through the now-red light. You all mop your sweating brows and vow to only make right turns for the remainder of your Chicago-based lives.
All of this works really well so long as everyone respects the yellow lights. Unfortunately, I earned to drive in a normal place where yellow lights are more suggestions that strictures. I'm used to breezing through that yellow light until the last possible moment before it turns red. that means I have often found myself screaming "Sorrrrrrrrrryyyyyy!" at the top of my lungs as I lunge through an intersection at the expense of the hapless left-turn exiles. I don't mean to do it, it's just instinctual.
Because left turn arrows are so rare in this city, they are correspondingly precious. That's why I don't understand why people don't respect the left turn arrow. It's maddening. About half the city's left turn arrows are arrayed up and down North Michigan Avenue, "The Magnificent Mile," which stretches from the Chicago river to Lakeshore Drive. I had to walk up and down the length of North Michigan Ave. running errands over lunch, and I have to say, PEOPLE, RESPECT THE LEFT TURN ARROW! that means you, pedestrians, who wander out into the intersection because the light for cross-traffic has turned red, neglecting to notice that we don't have the walk sign because the people turning off Michigan Ave. have, wonder or wonders miracle or miracles, a left turn arrow. But they can't complete their legal, non-hazardous left turn, because you, princess in the fur coat, or you, stinky cigar guy, do not respect the left turn arrow. Please folks: Celebrate the left turn arrow. Embrace the left turn arrow. Respect the left turn arrow. Wait the extra 10 seconds until we get the walk sign. It's really not that difficult.
And you, YOU, Mr. Lexus Boy -- You have a left turn arrow. That means you turn when the arrow tells you to. You do not have an excuse to follow on the driver who actually makes it through the arrow. The arrow will turn green for you again. Really. You need not fear it will go away. Just wait your freakin' turn, ok?
Here endeth the rant. Next time: Why people at work who take their food out of the microwave before the clock runs out but don't hit "clear," so the clock continues to blink "1:23" or however much time is left, should be keel-hauled.
Or not.
posted by SAJ at
3:14 PM
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