03-06-26

New things often take some getting used to. So when my browsers started delivering ads for products I had previously searched on, it was initially disquieting, then amusing, and now I barely pay attention. Then I noticed I was being fed news that was pretty local. That too became pretty old hat.

Still, I was startled a few days ago when the news on my browser opened featuring a large picture of our friend Brad!

It worked! I was distracted from whatever mission I was on and stopped to read the story. Since he was gesturing with his arms in the air, I knew he wasn't in handcuffs, so it probably wasn't bad news.

Brad in the news
(photo: kansasreflector.com)

In 1983, my friend Bill and wife invited my wife and me along on their family vacation with their, children Marie and Bill Jr. We began in Belgium. I quickly learned Bill didn't like to drive, so by the afternoon of our first day I become the chauffeur, guiding our van of six through Belgium, France, Germany, Luxembourg and the Netherlands. By the time we boarded the ship for Britain, I was a pro at navigating the previously-unfamiliar intersections called roundabouts.

In Britain, an additional challenge awaited: driving on the left.

At the Hertz agency outside Gatwick airport we decided to rent separate cars. Bill's was a Vauxhall, which, except for the name, was just a Chevrolet. Mine was a Talbot. I neither recognized the name nor the vehicle.

The chipper young lady working the desk assured me I'd love it, adding, "It's brand new."

Bill would lead, having previously visited Britain several times. He also had an itinerary.

I immediately noticed I had a bothersome tendency to stay left too far. Then, before I had a chance to settle in, a roundabout appeared with a lot of traffic. I was already distracted by trying to keep an eye on Bill's car as there were no GPS or cell phones then.

Things went south quickly.

A lorry - what we'd call a truck - approached from the right, hugging the inside lane, the usual sign the driver was going further around, so I readied my entry.

What I hadn't considered was with it being a lo-o-o-ng lorry, the driver had no option but to hug the inside lane. He was not going further around, but leaving via the exit just to my left. I quickly slowed, drifting to my left, waiting for him to exit, while wondering how far ahead Bill was now.

But when the lorry cleared, I discovered I had overdone it. I was heading straight at the left exit's low concrete traffic island.

I jumped its edge before I could react. The front wheels went up, but before the vehicle followed, there was a mighty crunch. We stopped! The dashboard was awash with warning lights. The engine was quiet. The shift lever hung limply. Oil flowed from under Mr. Talbot.
The lorry's (yellow) expected and actual path.
Art (red car) finished his journey on the red island.

And Bill? Near the horizon getting smaller by the second!

What to do? It was too far to walk back to the agency. I had, however, succeeded in providing entertainment for other drivers.

A police car rolled up. I prepared to get a citation.

The two constables were quite cheery, but seemed a tad too bemused as I explained what happened.

No citation?

"Oh no, sir," one replied quite respectfully. "There is no law against destroying your own vehicle."

As I tried to convince them to take me back to the Hertz office, Bill’s car approached. He had a big "better-you-than-me" grin.

Why his delay in returning? It seemed Bill had asked Junior to keep an eye on me, but had NOT included asking he be informed if something happened. Eventually Bill mentioned he hadn't seen me for a while. Junior responded, "Something happened at that roundabout back there and I never saw Art again."

Bill transported me to the Hertz office. The others, except for the constables who excused themselves, stayed behind, gawking at the now not-so-new Mr. Talbot.

"Remember that new car," I asked the still-chipper young miss, "I just totaled it."

"Oh, you didn't," she replied in her cheery manner, thinking I was kidding.

"Oh, no," I replied. It's hung up at the first roundabout."

Chipper changes to concern.

"Oh, dear, I'll let them know," she replied. I assumed she meant people with a wrecker.

"And I better get you another vehicle."

I wasn't expecting that. I momentarily pondered how many they let you total before they decide enough is enough.

While waiting, I started the accident report. The question "Distance to the nearest curb" struck me as funny. Miss chipper suggests I insert, "Zero!"

My not new "new" car arrived. It was a Ford - and I managed the next four weeks without getting a scratch on it!

So why did Brad's picture make that story come to mind? He's our former high school principal and later became our school superintendent. The picture was of him in action in his current position as our area state senator.

While a driver-education teacher, he noticed that even the law sometime take a while to get up to speed with new things. When roundabouts began to be installed in this country, regulations were not in place requiring drivers to use their directional signals to transmit their intentions to fellow drivers.

But Brad noticed. He was proposing to the Senate such signaling become law.

According to the accompanying article, Brad, who introduced himself as "the roundabout guy," was quoted as saying, "It's just a pet peeve of mine."

Despite Art's unfortunate early experience with roundabouts, he's a fan. And like them, tracking browsers are also fairly new things. But as long as they turn up fun stories such as this, I'm OK with them.