I’ve been away for a week, hence the drop in posts. Not that I didn’t have web access–it’s getting harder and harder to actually avoid wireless internet access while you travel. However, I managed to stick mostly to family activities and the occasional e-mail.
We were on a road trip, to BC’s interior, and while traveling the Coquihalla Highway I managed to get myself a speeding ticket. It’s been a few years since my last one, and needless to say, I was annoyed. It was a radar trap near Merrit. Now, what does this have to do with communications, you ask? Plenty! Here’s how.
In the lead-up to my being caught by the laser radar gun, there were countless numbers of times I could have been warned. What has happened to brotherhood of motorists where people look after each other and offer warnings of upcoming radar traps? Seriously? When did this form of communication stop?
As a kid, riding with my dad on summer road trips, I remember delighting in the fact that drivers would warn each other of the presence of police. To me it was like some grown-up world of secret handshakes–made all the better by the high speeds and the air of rebellion. It was a definite “us vs. them” scenario, as complete strangers banded together to save each other from the indignity of sitting on the side of the highway while being written up in a fast-paced version of the perp walk.
To drive the point home, so to speak, following my radar trap there were two more within fifteen minutes! Yet, I was warned once, by a trucker. Once! This was Good Friday, with a lot of traffic–obviously, given the number of police out in force–so there were dozens, even hundreds, of drivers who could have offered up a flash of the headlights.
I wonder if the lack of forewarning by fellow drivers might serve as a commentary on the individualistic and selfish nature of our times? As our lives–with the help of technology–have become more fractured and isolated, people tend to look out for themselves. Extended families are a thing of the past. Large families are viewed negatively and discouraged. Neighbours don’t often know each other. It’s all about “me.”
Anyway, I am now, once again, an owner of a radar detector. My old one was stolen years ago, but this episode has forced my hand. I picked it up at a great price in Trail, BC, at a small stereo shop called Rock Island. It was their last one. It had no price tag. The owner literally made up a price on the spot, a price that made us both happy.
Finally, on a more positive note, check out this short post on creating positive communications experiences. It’s short but good.