Secret Tips for People Who Dare to Drive in Massachusetts

It was recently brought to my attention that Massachusetts' drivers are considered the worst, (i.e. the most impolite and aggressive) drivers on the road. I don't think it was a scientific survey; more like a rude awakening thanks to all the excess horn blowing. I was even told that we're referred to by bad-mannered people in neighboring states as a made up word that begins with "Mass" and ends with "hole." I can think that's pretty clever because I've only lived in Massachusetts since I was three. I was born in Maine, rendering me forever a maniac. At least while I'm driving.

I drive in Massachusetts every single day, but that's only because the permanent construction sites have blocked all of the escape routes and my neighborhood isn't yet zoned for helicopter landings. I sincerely hope that people who drive in our lovely state will consider that we might not necessarily be the worst drivers in the country. We actually have some handy excuses for what might appear, at first glance, to be driving disabilities.

Consider:

We're probably more than slightly dizzy and disoriented after surviving a few revolutions on an unmarked rotary.

The state of our roads might make us seem as if we're driving drunk when we're really just conscientiously avoiding the craters we affectionately refer to here in the Baystate as potholes. Even our poor troopers, who are trained professionals, can't always differentiate drunkenness from crater dodging. How many of us have memorized the alphabet backwards for that very reason?

Some have mused that our highway engineers have a drug problem. Others have concluded Boston's baked beans may be to blame. Personally, I think our engineers have a great sense of humor. And I'd like to know how they talked Willie Wonka out of those blueprints. Hang on, Charlie!

Certainly, these flaws in route planning and road maintenance may be misconstrued by out-of-staters as bad driving or, possibly, a complete lack of any driving ability whatsoever. But is it the state we live in that makes us bad drivers or is it that you out-of-state moving targets don't know how to drive, where you're going, or how to get there, making our state the worst one to drive in? How many times do you have to go around the circle before you figure out you've already been there?

Out of state drivers do have their uses, of course. Drop (kick) a few of them into downtown Boston at 5:00 p.m. and you've got yourself a clambake. Watch their jaws clench when they come to an intersection and discover the "Do Not Enter" and "Exit Only" signs attached to the same orange and white barrel. See their eyes bulge as they drive down the same street over and over again, head swiveling, optimistically and eternally convinced that there must be a way to turn onto an adjacent one-way street going in the right direction. I'll bring the popcorn. Observe the hopeful anticipation that lights their little faces when they spot their destination and note that same hopefulness fade as they discover that, like a desert hallucination, it's relocated itself while they were sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Look at their knuckles turn white and then blue, as they try to slow down at yellow lights, prepared to actually stop BEFORE the light turns red. But try not to laugh when you see that the poor schmucks have forgotten to gas up for that two-hour one-mile trip. You were a new driver once too and laughing would be rude.

But just because I live and drive in Massachusetts, doesn't mean I can't be helpful and polite. Allow me to convey a few of the insider rules for driving with the friendly people of Massachusetts.

Forget the maps. Pack a lunch.

Lane changes - a clean change of underwear will fit in most glove compartments.

Merging - new vehicle purchases will prove to be unsound long-term investments.

Convenient parking spaces - wait. I'm laughing too hard to type.

In Maine they say, "You can't get tha-yah from hee-yah." In Massachusetts, we don't say anything (mostly preferring expressive hand gestures). We let you discover for yourself that you can't get anywhere from everywhere else, even if you can plainly see it in your rearview mirror. Now you see it, but you're going the wrong way. There it is again, but you're in the wrong lane. It's right in front of you but, oops, that detour sign was closer than you thought. And how is it possible that you made two lefts and a right and you're still on the same street? Doesn't that defy some indisputable law of reality?

At some point, you'll finally be confident of exactly one thing. Boston is the Bermuda Triangle of blacktop. You may enter and try to pass through but arriving at your destination is never a foregone conclusion. As the history books will confirm, the Pilgrims' first street sign was "Abandon all hope, ye who enter." Yes, they were talking about downtown Boston.

It isn't that we, the people of Massachusetts, are direction-less; it's just that we only understand one definition of the word right: Entitlement. It's our right to drive the way we please. So please move.

As a maniac, here is my best advice for driving in Massachusetts: Fly the friendly skies. Or, do what I do. Pay someone else to drive and lie down in the back seat with your blankie, a bottle of Jack and a blindfold. The back seat is almost always the better location for most drivers anyway.