Gathering Places
Gathering Places
This bird’s for you,
camera guyOn a recent afternoon I took a drive out to Aloha Stadium for a bit of flea market action. Lurking on the side of the road near the Pearl Harbor gate was one of the traffic camera vans, driver in place. I doubted he could be shooting many photographs, since traffic was heavy and no one was doing more than the speed limit. While passing the van, I noticed there were many middle fingers raised in a single-digit-shaka salute from the drivers of the vehicles around mine.
At first I took offense at these birds, as the drivers on my left side were aiming them in my general direction. But then I realized that none of these particular birds was directed at me.
Since I drive an elderly car and don't wish to give it a hernia, I always stay within the speed limit. Most of the time I am at a lower speed than the posted limit; for this reason, I'm the recipient of many a bird. If by chance I happen to be in the center lane, there is a constant stream of cars passing me on either side, birds flying in the wind.
Sometimes when looking in the rearview mirror, it seems like the car is driving backwards. If I am in the right-hand lane on H-1, there are those tremendously skilled drivers entering the highway who are able to drive while simultaneously holding a cell phone with one hand and flipping the bird with the other -- all without spilling their coffee. Those behind me who are preparing to leave the freeway show equal dexterity with steering, cell phoning and bird flipping.
In New York state, where I took driving courses, this group of skills was not among those offered. Screaming 101 was offered, as was Rude Beyond Belief 201. Of course, in New York City -- considered by many to be the Rude Capital of the World -- the bird was flipped at me once, but this cab driver was going much too fast to be rammed. Of course, driving in NYC requires such skills that one becomes immune to raised fingers. Heck, in NYC, pulling away from the curb requires tremendous religious faith.
But in Hawaii, where birds are flipped faster than a politician can get a campaign contribution, you have to make sure that the bird being flipped actually is aimed at you. Imagine your chagrin should you crash your car into someone's SUV in a retaliatory gesture, then later find out that the driver was flipping at someone else.
Imagine your surprise as someone runs you off the road and four large gentlemen get out of their car and beat you senseless because you flipped a bird at a policeman and these guys mistakenly and selfishly claimed the bird as their very own. Imagine how you would feel as the lady you are flipping off turns out to be your college professor who at that moment is deciding whether or not to have a pop quiz.
Just imagine you are passing a slow-moving truck that is brimming over with furniture, you flip the driver the bird as you speed off, and then later step out your front door to find that the driver is an off-duty policeman who is moving his wheelchair-bound mother into the house next to yours.
So, in Hawaii, should you notice that another driver is flipping you the bird, do not assume that this driver is proficient in sign language skills and expect him to understand the universal hand signal for "I love you" that you are displaying. He is sure to believe that you are sending him the single-digit-shaka and react accordingly. Be careful out there.
Arnold Van Fossen, a retired magazine
promotion manager, lives in Waikiki.