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The Rice Thresher
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Guest column Moving to Houston has given me a whole new understanding of the term "defensive driving." Enormous gas-guzzling vehicles traveling at 20 mph over the posted speed limit and drivers otherwise distracted by something inside their cars have created some seriously hazardous conditions. And all this occurs before I have even left the Rice campus. People in Texas love their trucks - that is obvious. I loved my car too, but was forced to bring a big, old clunker down here because the one I had at home simply doesn't weigh enough to compete with the monsters down here in a collision. Even now, if my sedan were to collide with a Suburban, I could be in some serious trouble. This alone puts all of us car drivers on the defensive. An unusually large number of Houstonians seem to have a real "need for speed," as well as a feeling that the world should yield to them. There is an otherwise normal yuppie living in the apartment two doors down from me who is one of the most friendly and cordial people I have ever met. When she steps into her Expedition, however, she does a full Jekyll to Hyde transformation. All of a sudden she becomes temperamental and territorial, cutting off other drivers and shouting obscenities. I discovered this characteristic when my car was in the shop and she kindly offered me a ride to class. I decided to walk home that day. Young drivers are usually given the rap for endangering others on the road, but down here I have found it to be quite the opposite. On campus, for example, when I am walking across the parking lot, I frequently have to either hurry across the road or stop because a car is coming barreling at me at upwards of 40 mph. Without fail, the drivers have been over the age of 30 and never Rice students. The other day, it was a man driving a red car and wearing a Rice police uniform who blazed by me. Speeding is so unnecessary and just not worth it. I knew a girl in high school who was a grade above me, very smart and friendly. One morning, she was running late and got into her Volvo and headed to school, which was less than a mile away. Halfway there, she realized that she had left a paper at home that was due that day. Instead of driving for another 100 yards, where there was a parking lot where she could turn around, she looked in her rearview mirror and decided on a U-turn. She was hit by a cement truck and killed instantly. She sacrificed her life to avoid a tardy. My motivation in writing this column is mostly spurred by another recent phenomenon - driving while talking on a cell phone. There are more than 80 million cell phone users in the United States, and it is my opinion that half of them live in Houston. As a result, more and more drivers are using their commute time to discuss business and personal affairs. The man who hit and seriously injured one of my best friends insisted that he was not distracted by talking on his cell phone when he swerved into the next lane. Phone records indicate that he was on the phone with his ex-wife, who admitted to a heated discussion concerning their children being held at the time of the collision. He got away with a charge of reckless driving and a slap on the wrist. My friend, a talented track star, will never compete again. Many countries, such as Italy, Brazil, England and some Australian states, have outlawed the use of telephones while driving. Citing repeated studies that drivers on the phone have a 30-40 percent higher chance of an accident than other drivers, similar legislation has been proposed in the United States. But the lobbying power of the communications industry has just been too powerful thus far. Driving is the most dangerous thing we do each day, killing more people every year than murder, heart disease and cancer combined. I have seen too many of my friends hurt or killed in motor vehicle accidents, and that was in a college town of 40,000 - including the students - where any road with more than two lanes is considered a highway. Driving is a privilege, not a right, and I urge everyone to treat it like that. Please, just be a couple minutes late to class or wait to call your friends until you get home. The alternative just isn't worth it.
Joan Shreffler is a Lovett College sophomore.
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