VANITY PLATES 4U

Well, today’s commuting obstacle was fog. Wicked dense fog. So much fog that I felt like we were in a Whitesnake video – except we were driving instead of standing around in the fog playing guitars. And nobody has all that big permed 80s hair anymore.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t much like a Whitesnake video after all.

But thanks to the fog, visibility was reduced to basically the car in front of me and the commute was more “stop” than “go.” Thus, my mind had plenty of time to wander. Sure, I probably should have been holding the steering wheel in a death grip in the 10-and-2 positions and I should have been thinking about nothing other than getting to work safely. But…c’mon. I’m a safe driver. I mean, I wasn’t applying mascara or filing my nails or fiddling with my phone even though we didn’t move long enough that I could’ve downloaded the entire Whitesnake’s greatest hits album, had I so desired.

Instead, I spent the downtime looking at license plates – particularly vanity plates. Some people are so creative and others…well…not so much. As a matter of fact, I saw CRE8TIV, which I liked a lot. And then there are those vanity plates that are probably inside jokes because they’re impossible to figure out.

I happened to be driving directly behind 28TEETH this morning. The obvious conclusion is that the owner is a dentist, but it also could’ve meant that he’s proud that he has a full set in his mouth. Interestingly, I was following 28TEETH home a couple weeks ago so we must be on the same schedule and may even be neighbors. Sadly, I couldn’t tell you the make, model or color of his car – I just know him by his license plate.

But since I had a little spare time on my hands, I started counting the number of teeth in my own mouth, which is silly because I know I’m four short. (I had them yanked the summer I got braces when I was 18. It’s a rather traumatic memory – but that’s a story for another day.)

People who have unfortunate monograms should probably stick to generic license plates. For instance, this morning I saw YAK. So is the owner’s name something like Yolanda Alice King, for example – or is she publicizing the fact that she has a large domesticated wild ox at home? It also made me think of a euphemism for vomiting. Yuck. No pleasant images come to mind with a license plate like that.

I’d rather see clever or interesting vanity plates. Or plates with a positive message. Like, for instance, one of my friends has a great personalized plate: NRGVUP. I love that.

I have an attorney friend who used to have the license plate ISUE4U, which was very clever – but he eventually got rid of it because people kept keying his paint job. Maybe the opponents he beat in court were a little disgruntled?

Vanity plates that make me laugh are always good. My funny bone wasn’t tickled by any on the road this morning, but when I Googled photos of vanity plates, I saw a few good ones. Like a plate in Maine that reads: PLNAHEA. Ha ha. And the plate on a Hummer that reads 1 MPG. And the BLOND or BLONDE plates from various states where the plate is affixed to the car upside down.

Some personalized plates just seem to invite trouble. For example, there was a car parked off the side of the freeway this morning that looked like it had been there all night. The license plate was SCOCH. I wondered if the driver had had a little too much of it last night and was pulled over for drinking and driving? Tsk tsk.

But even if the reason the car was sitting there all night was because the driver ran out of gas or something more innocent than driving under the influence, it sends a negative message. A license plate like that is kind of like daring law enforcement to pull you over to give you a Breathalyzer test.

The most foolish plates are on those expensive sports cars with license plates that read something like 2FAST4U. Whenever I see those cars whizzing by on the freeway I always think they should probably keep their license and registration handy.

When I was younger and had a little red sports car of my own, I wanted to get a vanity plate – but all the ones I wanted were taken. My first choice was MEJANE. Eventually I gave up searching for something personalized, which is probably a good thing because I got pulled over twice in that car with my plain old generic plates.

I still have plain old generic plates, but if I did get a personalized one today, it’d probably have to read something like IMLOST or WHEREMI. Truth in advertising, right?

Oh well. At least my commute this morning wasn’t completely boring. And I’m outta here. If you see me FLYNBYA, it won’t be advertised on my license plate. I prefer to, uh, keep under the radar. If you will.

Oh, never mind. I’ll CUL8R!

Do NOT Follow Me!

An hour and thirty minutes. Correction: an hour and thirty-TWO minutes. That’s how long it took me to traverse the 17 miles to work today.

First it was raining, and then it was snowing and then we were getting some mixture between rain and snow, which felt a little like someone flinging ice chips at my windshield.

Before venturing out, I carefully listened to the traffic reports and then mapped out my route. Immediately I discarded the idea of traveling 71 South since it was closed halfway to downtown due to high standing water. I didn’t want to (a) sit in traffic, or (b) float my way downtown. Perhaps now I see a reason to own one of those strange-looking amphibious automobiles like we saw at last year’s Auto Show, after all. Wonder if they come equipped with snow tires, too?

I left home approximately 15 minutes earlier than normal, which as soon as I saw the weather conditions, knew wasn’t early enough – but I thought I could maybe get to work somewhere close to my regular start time. I’m either completely delusional or have somehow inexplicably retained my childlike positive outlook on life.

Yeah, I’d go with completely delusional, too.

Nevertheless, I gamely started out. I left an assured clear distance between me and the driver in front of me. I didn’t speed – not that it was possible to speed – unless 5 miles an hour can remotely be considered speeding.

When I reached the ramp I normally take, I saw an interminable line of red brake lights, so I elected to go straight, which meant that I’d be driving South on High Street. This actually wasn’t a bad decision. Sort of.

You ever see that cartoon, Family Circus? When little Billy heads out the door of his home and, instead of walking in a straight line to his destination, takes all sorts of little detours so he can explore everything in his neighborhood and you can tell where he’s been by all the little black dashes in the drawing?

Well, I sort of felt like that this morning. I was on one road, and then diverted to another road when I saw police cruiser lights ahead. Assuming there was an accident, I veered off to avoid sitting in traffic. I took so many lefts and rights on my convoluted route, I can be assured that nobody was following me!

Eventually, I ended up on the Ohio State campus, which was definitely not where I wanted to be. There are way too many pedestrians down there – and they have the right-of-way. I didn’t think it was a good idea to start my day by plowing into a college student.

So I turned left somewhere in the middle of campus and then turned right again. And, finally ended up on a road that heads into downtown.

If someone had been mapping my route with black ink, it would either have resembled little Billy’s convoluted journey – or a big plate of spaghetti.

While I never sat in non-moving traffic, I probably would’ve gotten to my destination about the same time as if I’d just stayed in the long line behind all the brake lights on the freeway.

And the weather now? Nuthin’. There is no snow other than a mere dusting on the flora and fauna. There is not a speck of snow on the roads. It’s not raining. And no one is flinging ice chips at any windows whatsoever.

Are you kidding me?? If it’s gonna take me an hour and thirty-TWO minutes to get to work, I would appreciate it if we had at least SOME blizzard-like conditions out there!

Ah well. I’ll get over it. Allow me to wish you a happy weekend. Stay warm. And may it not take you an hour and thirty-two minutes to get to your destination. (Unless it’s significantly more than 17 miles away!)

4:15 In The Freaking AM

Vince’s alarm didn’t go off at its regularly scheduled 4:15 AM wake-up time. Fortunately, he woke up on his own 15 minutes later – but that’s 15 minutes that he needs to get himself coiffed, dressed, fueled up with breakfast and coffee and out the door and on the road.

So I got up with him this morning. At 4:30 in the morning. That’s A.M. in case you missed it. I don’t do 4:30AM well.

Nevertheless, the man has done his fair share of getting me up and out the door at the appointed time, so I thought it only fair to reciprocate. One 4:30AM reciprocation should suffice for hundreds of 7AM efforts – don’t you think?! Wonderful. Glad we're in agreement. (Hey Vince – good news. We’re even!) (And, yes, I do realize that it’s good news for me – but it’s good news nonetheless!)

So anyway, while my husband got himself ready for the day, I stumbled downstairs and pushed the “on” button for the coffee maker and put a bagel in the toaster. I collected his lunch from the fridge and put it in his insulated bag. And I poured his now piping hot, fresh coffee into his travel mug.

And then I did something that I personally thought was pretty darn heroic. I sliced some sort of fish sausage that he bought last week when we were in upper Michigan – and put the slices on his bagel. Ick.

I really don’t do fish. Three hand washings later, I swear I could still smell seafood on my fingers. But Vince thinks this fish sausage is tasty – and has been enjoying it on his morning bagel, so I wanted to make the guy happy.

Once I shooed him out the door, I was less sleepy and wondered what sort of trouble people get themselves into before dawn’s early light. So I flipped on the computer and did some surfing. I cleared out my junk e-mails. I finished yesterday’s blog and got a head start on this one. And I wished assorted and sundry friends a happy birthday today.

By this point it was all of 6AM. Still too early to get up unless I wanted to do something crazy like deep knee bends or stomach crunches in the living room. I didn’t. But by this time, I was also freezing, so I hustled back upstairs and donned a pair of wool socks and a long sleeve sweater – and then jumped back in bed.

This was not a smart move – because I fell into a deep sleep and I, too, did the “15 Minutes Late” dance. Arrgghh! And there was no Vince downstairs to prepare my morning (fishless) bagel.

Nevertheless, I’m a whiz at putting myself together on the run and getting out the door on time. I grabbed a breakfast bar and my coffee and hit the road. I was in time to hear “celebrity sleaze” on the Morning Zoo, so I knew I was on track.

However, what I neglected to take into consideration was that it was another cold, rainy morning. A little bit of drizzle outside and commuters freak out around here. There were about a billion of us all heading toward downtown at the aggravating pace of about 30 miles an hour. Ugh.

Guess it’s time for another recalculation of the morning departure time. First we had the yellow school bus situation. Now we have the bad weather situation. If these situations keep up, I may be getting up at 4:15 with Vince to head downtown for my morning commute. Sure, I’d get to my office before anyone in the civilized world is awake (yeah, yeah, I know about time zones…work with me here), but at least I wouldn’t have to deal with the slow-moving masses.

Let me think about that for a minute. On the one hand there’d be virtually no traffic. On the other hand…4:15 AM.

Guess there’s no contest.

Okay, you Columbus commuters. It’s only a little rain. MOVE IT!