Teeth problems are the worst

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In general I have pretty good teeth.

I’m very fortunate that I got teeth from a different part of the family gene pool than my Dad.

That’s the upside, well that & apparently a high pain threshold when it comes to tooth problems.

The downside is that sometimes I go along and don’t realize I’ve actually got a problem until something is very wrong.

For example, in my 20s I had a molar literally disintegrate to the gum line and I was ok with it, because there were no fillings to obstruct the degeneration there was almost no pain. It was as simple for me as brushing my teeth 3 or 4 times a day so I didn’t have nasty breath and everything was great until… a dentist saw what was going on. Then all the sudden this was a very bad thing!

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Next think I knew I was in a chair, telling the dentist that Novocain, Xylocaine and Lidocaine don’t really work for me and that I was feeling everything he was doing.

“Tut-tut, that’s not possible.” he said. Then he grabbed the messed up tooth with a big ol’ set of pliers and “crunch” the tooth that wasn’t really a big deal to me was a code red alert. The tooth material was compressed at sharp, weird angles around the nerve causing excruciating pain. In other spots the nerve which had been previously enclosed, was now exposed to the air with every breath or swallow.

Trying to find an oral surgeon in that kind of emergency is no picnic and by the way, since the bastard has you by your balls, they’ll charge you whatever they want because they know you’ll pay it even if you have insurance. At the time I was fully covered by a dental policy but that oral surgeon demanded I write a $1000 check before he’d pull the tooth.

I didn’t have a $1000 in the bank at the time. I wrote the check got him to do the work, then after I’d driven to his office and they’d sedated me is when they tell me I can’t drive home. FUCK! 

I managed to get someone to come pick me up. I slept drugged that night and when I woke up the next morning I was pissed off. I called the bank and cancelled the check. Then I called the insurance company and told the tale to them. I never heard from the dentist or the oral surgeon again.

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I did have a lawyer on standby just in case… I’ve never thought the “Marathon Man” scene should be played out in real life and I refuse to be held hostage. I remember telling the Oral surgeon “You’ll get your fucking money.” Just before he put me out, by that time it was 5 hours since the first idiot had shattered the tooth. I was extremely hostile.

Flash forward into my forties and I’m at work, sitting at my desk nursing a cold or so I thought.

Turns out I was grey (Showing my Alien heritage I guess, it’s ashamed that I didn’t get the big brain and telepathic abilities, sigh.)

One of my co-workers suggested that I might want to go see a dentist since the cold/sinus infection was lasting such a long time.

After some thought, I gave my dentist (A good guy) a call and they arranged to see me immediately. After 1 X-ray, and a whistle of surprise from the dentist I’m under the drill.

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There was actually a hiss of gas escaping when the top of that tooth came off. 

I immediately felt better. It was like a switch being thrown.

The dentist hit me with another pain shot and in the 3 minutes it took him to go prep for the root canal, I fell asleep right there in the chair. I was just exhausted!

I left that dentist because they started bringing in newbie dentists who honestly weren’t up to par. The last dentist I saw there was a woman who didn’t understand when a guy tells you KEEP DRILLING! FINISH IT! I can take the pain, just don’t back off. Uhh, girly, WE FREAKIN MEAN IT! That filling has never been right and I refused to go back.

There have been other dentists too. There was the gay dentist in Long Beach, he was ok but had a staff that was less than easy to deal with.

His assistant whom I referred to as Nurse Ratchet couldn’t seem to get that a filling they’d done was higher than it should have been and that I grind my teeth at night.

She ground it down a bit but wouldn’t go get the dentist. I think by that time I may have already broken the tooth from grinding at night.

She was probably panicked but she could have gotten the dentist. She could have told me what was up. Instead she dismissed me like I was yesterdays fish.

Which led me to question the quality of care I was receiving, and led me to my favorite dentist.

My favorite dentist recently retired.

She sold the practice to a nice enough young guy, who’s done all kinds of upgrades and has hygienists, and assistants, and office people running all over the place.

He’s doing the typical “Dentist” thing, letting the staff do most of the work and then he checks stuff maybe does a filling or whatever, then is gone. 

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My old dentist had one assistant. Her husband manned the front desk after he retired from his first career.

She did all the work herself. I drove 75 miles to see her because she did all the work and she listened.

In the 4 years I saw her, she never had to use anesthetic on me. She did several fillings and we had no problem.

Flash forward into my 50s and the tooth in the same position, on the other side of my head is acting, well weird.

Since the new guy was just like all the other “Factory” dentists today. I came to the conclusion that I didn’t need to drive 75 miles or pay outrageously high prices to have work done.

So I’ve found a new dentist. The office is a FACTORY! 10 chairs, people running all over the place, patients waiting, children running up & down the place. You know, chaos!

I went in to find out what’s up with the tooth that’s bugging me. This dentist comes highly recommended and has a good chair side manner.

It turns out the tooth is cracked and needs a crown. The dentists website said they could do this stuff while you wait.

Apparently not, instead they did an exam, cleaning, and were being really cagy about the costs. I just want the damn problem fixed! Give me an estimate and then I’ll make a decision.

Oh no! we have to do this fucking dance.

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The price they finally quoted me was better than the first guy.

But then I find out my dental insurance doesn’t cover the crown, (Fine by me) but for the dentist staff apparently that was a problem.

They hand me a bunch of paperwork which leads you to believe that the dentist will work with you.

I’m thinking I can scrape together about half of the bill and figure if the dude could give me 90 days I can pay the other half. So I’m thinking great that’ll work.

Except that’s not the way they do things. They direct me to a credit card company…

Yep, you read that right, a medical credit card.

This card also works for Vet bills too, I think that’s an interesting connection. I may have to start taking the dogs drugs.

I haven’t worked in 2 years I hardly think a credit card company is going to say, “Sure! Lets give you a credit card.” 

Really? I’m trying to not run up credit bills. I don’t want more credit cards. I’ve been closing accounts.

Why? Because I’m over paying interest and living above my means. I know absolutely where that leads and I don’t want to do it anymore. (I’ll have a credit card, because in an emergency it could be a lifesaver. I’m just not looking for 80 lines of credit.)

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But the dentist wants his money before he begins treatment.

This tooth ain’t getting any happier, and I don’t want to go through the exam dance with yet another dentist to get an estimate.

I guess I’ll call this an emergency and charge it. On one of my emergency cards.

I just find myself asking the same question I’ve been asking for years. Why is medical care so damn expensive?

If ever the government could have stepped in to make a real difference in our lives it would have been by finding out what the REAL cost of care is.

Then publish those costs and let the consumer decide.

As an example, the cost difference between my new dentist and the guy my old dentist sold her practice to, is $450. Yep, same procedure, same everything but $450 less at the new dentist.

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That’s the question the government should have been answering. Why is there such a variance and is it justified?

I guarantee the prices would have gone down if the consumer had some guide about the real costs of time, materials, and treatment.

With this kind of information, a consumer could tell a doctor their quoted costs are way out of line.

Which means Medics would have to compete, not just live under the yoke of government or private insurance providers.

As a point of interest, I’d probably have had a pricing discussion with my old dentist.

I’d have told her flat out $1700 is way too much. We’d have negotiated a solution, even if the solution was a bit higher priced than going to a “Factory” setting. There’s something to be said for paying a higher price for really personal care.

But you can’t have that kind of discussion with the office staff, they’re just following orders aren’t they?

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I’m going to be in a dentists chair for a while in the near future. 

I’ll be counting the individual pains and annoyances then I’ll divide the price I’m paying by the number of pains to figure out how much I could charge a masochist for an hour of pain.

Hey, if you think about it, it’s a great way to price out BDSM services!

I know you didn’t see that coming…

Have a great day. 

Rites of passage

This one has been banging around in the draft folder for a while. Figured I’d publish it. Feel free to add comments. I’ll move the good ones into the body of the post. This list is not complete. I’ve been adding to it when I think about it.

These are things that we experience but often forget to share. As men, we should share this stuff, if only anonymously. The younger men ought to know what to expect. And hopefully we’ll get a laugh out of their horrified looks. Hey it’s what we do to each other!

In my life, the rites of passage I’ve experienced or witnessed have been, in no particular order;

Camping out by myself. Wow, look at those stars, My camp site is cool but I should have done X, Y, & Z differently. I’ll do those things differently next time.

Penthouse, Hustler and Chic, Magazines, So that’s what THEY have down there! And apparently MY junk recognized it… Even if I didn’t.

Firing you first gun.

Hitting your target with a bow.

Killing and eating your first meal.

1st wet dream, Oh my god!!! I wet the bed… no wait… what the hell is this??? I’ll ignore it maybe it will go away and not happen again.

Taking a brutal kick to the groin, there’s nothing like it. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

The First Climax… AKA “Jacking off”,  Oh wow, rubbing that feels REALLY good! Oh nooo something is wrong! I hurt myself… I’m never doing that again… well maybe just this time, and 10 minutes later and 10 minutes after that. Then finding out other boys also found this neat thing their body would do. Then enjoying our smugness while we could exclude the boys who knew nothing of what we were talking about.

A couple of fights, Yeah, I’ve been punched in the face, bloodied up pretty good. I’ve been on the loosing and winning side of a fight. You learn a lot from both experiences. When you have your ass kicked, you decide that you want to know how to not let that happen again. You also learn to be a somewhat gracious winner. At least in school, in my case being decent about having won the fight and helping my defeated opponent to his feet is all that prevented us from being suspended. We got off with a stern talking to.

Finally understanding mercy and why it’s important in this world.

Being part of the winning team, and the pizza party afterwards

Being part of the losing team, and the pizza afterwards.

Your first body hair, Whats that? OUCH! it’s attached. Oh… cool!

Your First Shave, topped by your Dad giving you your first non-disposable razor.

Seeing a hardcore adult toy catalog, Oh so that’s what it looks like when people screw. Damn! that guys dick is huge. Why does she look like it hurts? Does it hurt to have sex? If it does why do people do it?

Learning to be judgmental 

That feeling of RAGE when you realize someone stole your shit!

Your First serious Girlfriend, She’s holding my hand! She’s letting me kiss her, she’s kissing me back uhhh oh I hope she doesn’t notice the tent in my pants. Shit! she noticed, hey shes smiling at it… She touched me through my jeans…. Wow! she’s putting my hand between her legs! I’m liking the way she’s moaning when I touch her… I’m liking even more how shes rubbing my dick… I just shot my juice with a girl!

Figuring out how to get condoms

First broken bone This is real bitch! why can’t I just walk like a normal person? Yeah, give me the walking cast, there was a question about needing this?

Understanding betrayal firsthand

The first broken nose Do you fix it yourself or run to the doctor? Fix it yourself of course!

Losing my virginity to a lovely lady in a seriously clumsy sexual escapade (I still grin about that one)

The first BJ, Oh YEAH, HELL YEAH!

A Driver’s license I’m never going to be home after today! Wait… I have to pay for gas AND insurance?

The frustration of being mobile, having condoms, and the house to yourself, and yet being unable to score.

Watching a porn movie in a theater...

Watching porn at home

Learning how to forgive

Knowing when to leave a party. Finding out later that you left just moments before the cops busted the place.

That first paycheck Wait! what the hell is FICA? Who is SSI? Why did they get my money before I did?

My First Apartment  The first night sleeping on the floor (I had no furniture) But it was MY PLACE all mine. The next day… I bug bombed the hell out of the place. While the bug bombs were driving the nasties into everyone elses places, I was out buying dishes, silverware, a frypan, a couple of pots, a Mr. Coffee,  and a cheap microwave. My waterbed was filled by nightfall and I slept like a baby that second night.

Purchasing my first Brand New Car  The little head was doing all the talking that night… I CHARGED the down payment yep… on my Mastercard… But I drove the hell out of that car and enjoyed every minute of it.

Losing family to death and having to be strong for the rest of the family

Taking a date to a nice restaurant, only to realize too late that she was ‘Eliza’ from My Fair Lady and I could have had more fun with another young lady, or that I could have gotten what I wanted by taking her to a Mc Donalds.

Being laid off from your job the first time.

My first hangover

Learning to take time in the sack and how to have a lazy, unhurried, guiltless, sexy screw on an beautiful Sunday morning.

My first auto accident. OH DAMN! that’s going to be expensive to fix!

Learning you’re good in a crisis, and learning that it’s OK to freak out a bit and have the shakes after the crisis is over.

The walk of shame the morning after a night of debauchery (That one still gets a grin too)

Learning to control your own fear, and learning that by your controlling your fear others around you are also less afraid.

Understanding you can change if you want to

Calling the Dr and having to answer the question… “What’s the reason you’re making this appointment?”, My answer was “I’m very irritated Down there!” Which is when I found out my dick doesn’t like Nonoxynol 9, but at the time I was just sure I had VD.

Turning down sex for the first time… What the hell just happened? I never turn down getting laid

The first prostate exam, DOC, you are going to do WHAT???

How to lose it all and survive, It’s all just stuff… Stuff does not make me who I am.

Learning how NOT to be judgmental 

Losing friends to death and learning how to grieve.

First Gray hairs… on my balls! Oh Hell no, that just ain’t right!

Learning that happiness or sadness isn’t about what’s outside, it’s about what’s in you.

 

The past couple of nights have been “Interesting”…

…The Insomniac theater of the absurd.

I wrote a blog sitting naked at my desk. It was long rambling, random, and well… Nuts!

I started taking an antibiotic that cautions it may cause dizziness. They should also caution about insomnia and insanity.

Probably not a good sales pitch though. “This antibiotic is effective against sinusitis and may also cause extended episodes of intense crazy. Use with caution when operating heavy equipment.

I’d take an erection lasting four hours, but that’s not what this antibiotic promises or what it’s delivering…

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I chose not to publish the “crazy blog”… Probably for the best.

Last night I dreamt I was with Arlene in a psychotic TrueBlood nightmare.

I was offering her soothing words about her husband Terry having been ripped apart by a flatulent vampire. Arlene said, “I can deal with Terry being ripped apart… but what is that horrific stink?

Just then Terry pulled himself back together and became a flatulent vampire who kept chasing us round and round Merlotte’s but was easy to avoid because we smelled him coming.

Lafayette put an end to Vampire Terry with a pot of chili and a can of lysol. “Bitch! I jus done cleaned this kitchen and you come up in here smelling like dat? Awww HELL NO!” 

I ask you… is this the kind of behavior you want from your antibiotic? I didn’t think so.

Then this morning, I was outside doing poo patrol in the back yard.

OK did someone put extra stinkiness in the poo, or have my sinuses started to clear?

Then it hit me one of the dogs must have been particularly gaseous last night which got incorporated into the TrueBlood dream / nightmare.

I guess you could say the past night or two has been shitty or at least gassy.

I do hope only the mind altering drugs you expect to cause delusions are deluding you, and that your antibiotics are just killing infections.

Have a good one

Oh for Pete’s sake! I’m so over these Silly Assed Boycotts!

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I was scanning twitter this morning and ran across this;

@jeromeehudson So, you’re at Chick-fil-a (AGAIN), eh @BruceCarrollSC?? You’re a self-loathing piece of work

I thought “Oh God!” aren’t we past these things yet?

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Mr. Hudson is going on about the Chic-fil-a ruckus, that started when some executive from Chic-Fil-A said he didn’t agree with gay marriage or didn’t like gay people or some such.

As you can tell I was offended so much by the comments of the Chic-fil-a person I totally remember exactly what it was all about. Yeah right! I so didn’t give a shit

Mainly because I don’t care what one person says or that (he or she) is an executive of a company or that they’re making 1000 times more money than me.

This is one of the things that I find so damn offensive about the mainstream GLBT community. My sexuality has never defined my politics, why does the GLBT community allow it to define theirs?

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The GLBT community and others, tend to boycott at the drop of a hat over no damn good reason. In some boycotts the GLBT folks will even devour their own. Such as the gay bar owner who was… Horror of horrors Republican!.

Now we’ve got the Barilla boycott. Really? Lets see a name like Guido Barilla, anybody care to guess what his religion probably is? Can you say most likely traditionally Catholic? Are you really surprised that he’d be opposed to showing gay families? More-over, why isn’t he allowed to speak his mind without haveing to live in fear that some half baked group will get their panties in a twist.

Aren’t there far more important things to worry about?

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Anybody remember the Coors boycott of the ’80s? It was in all the papers, well at least the gay papers. Coors was being mean and oppressive I vaguely recall it was something to do with firing gay workers or some such. So the gay community made the grandiose gesture of not buying Coors beer or serving it in gay bars.

This went on for years… As did Coors Brewing. I doubt seriously that Coors noticed much of a dip in their bottom line.

I honestly don’t know if you can get a Coors beer in a gay bar now. I’m afraid to ask for fear that the patrons of the bar would go feral, turn on me and rip my carcass to bloody shreds.

Just for asking the question…

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Oh hey, look at that. Coors is marketing specifically to gay people. Well it only took 25 years for the gay community to forget about the boycott.

How about the Great Hotel boycott of the early 2000s in San Diego? OMG someone at the hotel said some bad things about the GLBT community. They must be boycotted forever to make them understand that we are important and powerful and …

OUR OPINION MATTERS MORE THAN THEIRS DOES!

In short, Convert or die!

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Not a particularly healthy attitude and I’m apparently not alone in beginning to feel that the GLBT community is being perceived as Nazi-esq.

I stumbled across this little jewel of a graphic to the right, on the internet. It came up within the first page of images. 

All I can say is DAMN! I’ll bet the Stonewall democrats and Log Cabin Republicans never saw this coming.

Then the executive at Chic-Fil-A said he didn’t agree with gay marriage AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHGGGGGGHHHHH! The GLBT community whips itself into a froth AGAIN. With boycotts and protests and all manner of idiocy.

The Chic-Fil-A executive expressed HIS opinion! He’s entitled to speak his mind.

That folks is a right protected by the first amendment of the constitution.

You know the same right that allows the GLBT community to express their opinion with protests, signs, and boycotts?

Why the hell is it wrong for a single person to say what he thinks, and yet OK for the GLBT community to disrupt (or attempt to disrupt) his business?

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More recently there was the great Vodka pouring in LA and New York because of the Russian governments oppression of gay people.

As the Russians were probably saying “Big Deal, So What?”

Much of the Vodka you morons were pouring out isn’t even made in Russia. So if you really want to make an impact don’t go to the Olympics in Russia. Don’t watch it on television but that’s about all you can do. The GLBT community is largely impotent in the affairs of the Russian government.

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Why isn’t the GLBT community boycotting OIL, after all Iran and Iraq have some of the most hideous laws against GLBT people. Oh right, our cars… well we need them don’t we?

The single most offensive hypocrisy I have every heard of is this;

Apparently a Gay bar in San Diego was the object of an intended Boycott by GAY people because the Owner of the bar happened to be Republican and expressed his dismay at President Obama’s re-election. I’m putting this perhaps more delicately than reality. The Bar Owner was flat out pissed off about it, and said so in public in the bar.

That probably wasn’t the wisest move but HE OWNS the place and therefore should be able to express himself even in a fit of anger.

What followed was insanity.

This bar owner is known for his generosity and contributions to the community. But because he’s a Republican, and not in lockstep with the predominately Democratic members of the GLBT community he was suddenly targeted for destruction.

After all if you don’t believe every word that falls from the lips of the approved GLBT roster of celebrities and politicians is pure gold you must be defective. Even if you’re asking legitimate questions for legitimate reasons.

I’ve always pictured the end of “Invasion of the body snatchers” when I think about this subject.

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It’s time for the GLBT community to grow the hell up, & start acting their age.

We’re not going to be liked by everyone, any more than black or hispanic people are. Get over it!

We can’t force people to like us with litigation (See Affirmative Action) or protests (See A Day without Mexicans) or sweet words (See President Obama).

There will always be a percentage of the population that doesn’t like either a particular minority group or several. SO WHAT? SHIT HAPPENS!

Move on with your life like an adult.

I’m an American. I’ll eat what I damn well please, drink what I damn well please, and no-one is going to stop me. I’ll smoke if I want to, I’ll fuck who I want, when I want to, and whatever gender I choose.

No, I don’t suffer from self loathing. I suffer from pride in myself and my ability to make up my OWN mind. I reject group think. I participate in those things that I’ve decided are worth my time. Silly assed boycotts simply don’t make the cut. Hearing about silly assed boycotts just pisses me off.

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If you don’t like it… shut the hell up.

Go engage in that ancient & time honored tradition the world over…

Gossip about it behind my back!

But don’t you DARE tell me to boycott someone or infringe on THEIR right to have their beliefs, opinions, or freedom of speech. 

I realize I’m asking for a lot. After all you’d have to actually read several news papers then compare and contrast the various arguments pro and con about a particular subject.

Who has time? After all you’ve got to get your hair cut, text all your friends, and be at the next party, with a whole new wardrobe.

It’s easier to be told what to think by a 30 second news report that will define how you vote, which maybe you’ll do… If there’s time on the way to the party.

Equality doesn’t mean domination. It means we live peacefully, as neighbors and don’t bother each other with our stereos.

YES…BMW Drivers are aggressive (Often Justifiably so)

I saw this and thought it’s about time I wrote about my conversion to an aggressive driver.

I’ve always been a “Decisive” driver.

My friend M trusts no-one driving, but will fall asleep as a passenger in my car. That probably ties back to us turning off of Sherman Way on to DeSoto one night.

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Right after we made the turn probably 30 yards up De Soto there were two cars full of teen agers STOPPED dead in both lanes, having a conversation.

I was a teen ager at the time, but even then I thought “These people are fucking stupid!”

I mean they’d stopped completely out of sight until you made the turn and yet they’d parked close enough that once you completed the turn you had no time to react.

I concluded two things. 1) My little Datsun B-210 was narrow enough to fit in the space between the two stopped cars, and 2) I couldn’t stop if I wanted to.

So I didn’t. We sailed between the two cars interrupting the moronic conversation of the occupants and kept on going. To this day I don’t know what the hell they did after we passed, I really didn’t care.

I’m hoping that my sailing between them taught them a lesson. Hopefully… have your damn conversation in a driveway, parking lot, or in front of your home, NOT on a main street. I doubt it…

I still smile at the memory of the stunned look M gave me. I don’t recall him saying much of anything at the time. Perhaps it was because we both had to pee so bad.

After that M would fall asleep if it was a late night, and I’d done the driving.

I’m a fast driver, I like to move and I don’t have any patience for bullshit games on the road.

Perhaps it’s because I recognize the physics of driving a 1500Lb (or greater) car at 65 miles per hour (or greater) and what happens if you try to violate rules of physics.

The germane one in this conversation being momentum, and the Newtonian principal “Every object in uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it.” 

Translation… Sure, the car may stop on impact… but the objects in the car continue on at 65+ miles per hour… at least until they smack into the dash, or windshield.

Momentum is a stone bitch! All that energy has to go somewhere and I prefer that it not get translated into my body in less than a tenth of a second.

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I suppose that part of my driving style is due to my Father, he liked to go fast.

Part of my style is from drivers ed, back when the teacher with the biggest balls was actually in a car… with a student driver.

Those cars were custom jobs manufactured explicitly for drivers ed classes with driver controls replicated in the passenger seat.  One of the big 3 in Detroit, either donated or provided at substantial discount to the schools.

You know back in the day when you didn’t have to worry about a lawyer crawling out of the slime to sue if little Johnny slammed his finger in the door of the school drivers ed car. Lawyers! Don’t get me started on Lawyers!

I learned to drive in rain, slush, and snow. We sometimes even practiced a little bit on icy surfaces in the school parking lot. Nothing too serious but enough to show us by example how dangerous icy roads could be.

I learned defensive driving. There used to be PSAs on TV about how important Defensive Driving was and where you could get information about becoming a defensive driver.

The principal is simple, PAY ATTENTION! Keep a decent following distance, be courteous, don’t obstruct traffic, watch the traffic ahead and look for patterns. We were taught to watch for tell tales like smoke coming from someones tire. (A signal of imminent blowout)

If there was a lot of sudden activity ahead of you, brake lights, and odd motions from other vehicles, SLOW DOWN. The odds were something was in the road that you couldn’t see.

If you’re in the slow lane maintain space in front of you to allow oncoming traffic space to merge. In other words don’t cut people off.

The reverse was that if you were getting on the freeway, merge into the space other drivers provided DON’T accelerate to force your way in between two cars trying to get one stinking car ahead.

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There are a ton of other common sense rules that few, if anyone in California or anywhere obeys anymore. But these are the rules that I was taught to drive with and still apply today… To a point.


My Friend M has driven BMWs for years. Shortly after he got his first BMW I noticed that he was really aggressive, and as time went on he became more so.

It was a nice car, but I didn’t think he needed to be an ass. On a lovely trip to Hawaii I must admit his driving was scary aggressive.

He’d just completed a BMW driver training class at Willow Springs Raceway, however a rental POS Ford escort is not in any way a BMW. The roads on the Big Island of Hawaii while encircling the island… are not in any way a race track.

I noticed that the aggression leveled out and M is and always has been a fast, safe, excellent driver. So I figured this was a holdover from some of the track days he’d been enjoying at Willow Springs. I never really attributed it to BMW-jerk syndrome.

Years passed. I went through a few cars mostly due to driving the hell out of them going to and from work everyday.

Then one year I decided I wanted a Mini Cooper S.

I ordered it, 6 months later I picked it up and began customizing it.

When I had it in for service, Invariably I got a nice BMW 3 Series as a loaner car.

That’s when I first noticed an interesting phenomena.

I’d have trouble pulling out of the dealership. The BMW worked just fine but people would change lanes to make sure I couldn’t safely make a right out of the dealerships driveway.

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I mean, they’d change lanes and start pacing another car for no apparent reason.

The first time it happened I thought I was just having a strange day because I needed to get to work and was impatient to get a move on.

Subsequent times when I had a BMW loaner I noticed things like people pacing me, or when I signaled to change lanes on the freeway people would accelerate into my blind spot and sit there obstructing any ability to change lanes and often preventing my exit from the freeway.

I started noticing people tailgating more frequently and much closer. There were folks who would change lanes without a signal, often with less than a car length in front of me then slam on their brakes for no reason. If I wasn’t driving defensively I’d have hit them.

People would toss crap out their windows in front of me. The remnants of cokes and water bottles. This would happen a lot  on some of the freeways I traveled in LA and the Inland Empire. (The modern equivalent of flinging poo?)

At first I thought it was me. Perhaps it was the way I was driving, but if I drove my Explorer I had no trouble.

When I was in the Mini I had no problems either.

Except for one very notable occasion on the 210 when I passed someone in the fast lane and they got upset. I never did figure out what their problem was, but when three beat up pickup trucks towing rusty trailers started playing games in formation and obviously boxing me in then squeezing into my lane one night, I called 911.

I truly feared for my life and after topping 110 to escape these trucks I transitioned to a freeway going away from home instead of toward home. I got off the freeway then pulled into a parking lot and waited for the shakes to subside. The CHP never bothered to show up… even though I was fairly screaming at the 911 operator that I was very afraid and needed help. In the end, I escaped by my own wits, speed and being able to outmaneuver the aggressors.

I chalked that one up to some kind of road rage, or “Hey lets screw around with the little car“.


My beloved Mini was damaged beyond repair when the house burned.

My Mini was serviced by a BMW dealership, this is true of most Minis. After the fire I was dealing with the service people at the dealership that had done all the service and upgrades on my Mini.

The dealer service manager arranged an appointment for me to come in to explain to me and show me why my Mini was totaled. After delivering the bad news and the insurance adjusters report the service manager marched me upstairs to fleet sales and said, “This customer needs a new car.” (Great sales technique… and actually kind because I was completely broken hearted.)

I found that I couldn’t get another Mini, at least not in the time I had, with the options I wanted. Custom ordering a car is a ton of fun but not if you don’t have a few months to wait.

The bright spot was that a brand new BMW with all the options I wanted and in a price range I could afford was arriving at Long Beach Harbor in 2 days. Yes, Direct from “der Vaterland“, Leipzig to be exact.

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I explained that I’d thought about this particular model as a replacement for the Mini but that plan was supposed to be several years off.

The fleet manager tossed me the keys to her demo and told me to go have some fun. I did… a few hours later I came back and told her “I want one”.

She just smiled. “Yep, I figured you’d say that. I’m going to have to snag it from a friend but he owes me one.”

Two days later I was the proud owner of a new BMW.


My conversion to the dark side began immediately.

I hadn’t even gotten on the freeway and I had a guy accelerate to cut me off leaving the dealership driveway.

I got to the freeway then took my new beast home. Thankfully it was mid afternoon and traffic was fairly light. I got home without incident.

The next day I took photos of my new baby in the driveway of the rental house. (Photos which I can’t seem to lay my hands on right at the moment.)

It was a spectacular weekend, unfortunately I didn’t have anyplace I really wanted to go. There’s nothing like a new convertible on a sunny weekend. But  i was content to have the new car safely in the garage.

Going to work on Monday was the first of a series of adventures that resulted in my BMW induced aggression.

Let me explain.

Paper plate BMWs are targets… it’s just that simple.

At first I thought is was folks trying to eye the new model. This was the first year the 1 series was in production. Soon it was obvious that people was taking more than a passing interest in the new model.

As I got closer to South LA, people appeared to be getting more aggressive. No, that’s too nice. These people were outright hostile.

Believe me… I didn’t want to get a scratch on this beastie. I was trying to get to the credit union so they’d finance the rest of my purchase.

What started to become insanely questionable was, IF I was going to get to the credit union without being run off the road or involved in and accident.

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Clearly driving normally wasn’t cutting it. I tried slowing down and moving into the slow lane.

No joy… just made it worse, because now I was dealing with people getting on the freeway and for all the world acting like they were trying to make me hit them.

You know 300 horsepower is really a lot of power.  I’m a firm believer in the philosophy that if you’re not where someone strikes, they can’t hit you.

The cars’ HP and the philosophy led me inexorably to… “Lets see what the twins can do. Followed by a hearty… Whee!”

And I was gone…

The Ultimate Driving Machine AKA the Aryan SuperCar purred then zipped out of the slow lane into traffic.

This action left the grinning idiot in the rusted out POS Honda CRX with the farty exhaust system almost hitting the stopped garbage truck in front of him.

The idiot had been doing his best to either impact my passenger door or make it look like I hit him.

When I accelerated away he also accelerated trying to keep up with me… OOOOppps The garbage truck wasn’t moving quite as fast.

My heart bled for him. Really, it did there was even a tear!

Back then, I thought perhaps it was just another manic day and traffic was a little stranger than usual.

My beast & I arrived at the credit union intact & unscathed, the financing went off without a hitch.

Going home from work that night there were other incidents and close calls mostly where people would just cut in front of me without a signal then lock their brakes up. The Ultimate Driving Machine has excellent brakes and an even more impressive ABS system.


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Within a week I’d come to the conclusion that it wasn’t just a manic day or week, and that it wasn’t my driving. If I was in the Explorer, which had by this time just been resurrected from burns and damage it had suffered in the fire, there were no incidents.

If I was in the BMW it was inevitable that at least 2 or 3 times during the commute someone would accelerate to cut me off, force their way onto or off of a freeway causing me to have to brake hard or they’d simply prevent me from changing lanes.

I got into the habit of not using my signals on the 91 or 405 freeways anywhere West of Bellflower.

It was just easier not to give someone the heads up that I wished to change lanes or get off the freeway. It seemed that whenever I did signal… there would always be someone ready and willing to make a simple lane change on my part as difficult as possible.

As time went on, I found myself driving fast, maneuvering through slower traffic like a hunting wolf through the forest. I’m far more aggressive today than I used to be. I was a moving target alright, the faster moving the better!

I’ve actually had people hanging out of the window of their vehicles with cameras and camera phones snapping pictures of me driving on the freeway with the top down. All of this going on at 75MPH on a freeway, with even the driver of the other vehicle taking pictures.

Do you have any questions about why I’ll do my level best to stay away from other cars and people?

I haven’t gotten to the point that I’m running through pedestrian crossings.

I do have little patience for people that step down, back up, then down, then up then step in front of the car when I’ve decided they aren’t actually going to cross the street. That’s not car dependent… it’s ALWAYS! I’ve always had a short fuse about that kind of thing. Make up your mind and let all of us get on with our lives!

Oh and as an aside, a pedestrian is expected to CROSS the road not meander at an oblique angle across all traffic lanes as so many people do these days in shopping center parking lots.

Even in parking lots if I park in the furthest corner of a lot, when I come back there will be at least two cars parked badly on either side of mine. They’re usually beaters and badly parked. I have no idea what the hell thats about.

There can be 1000 other empty spaces and yet a beat to hell POS will be parked so close and crooked in the slot next to me that I can’t open my car door. I’ve actually had to put the top down just to be able to get in the car when I wanted to leave.

All of which is to say that there is a great deal more to BMW drivers being “Jerks” than is discussed in the piece that started me down this path.


I believe there is a pervasive thought process in many folks who do not drive BMWs that take one of maybe three paths. 

1 That person is rich and If I can force them to hit me I can score big time.

2 That person is flaunting their money & power and I don’t like them because they obviously have more than I do. I’m going to screw with them as payback.

3 That person thinks they’re entitled and I’m going to prove to them they’re not. (Prius drivers)

I’m not sure that any of these paths are on a conscious level.

The BMW driver on the other hand is thinking

1 OH shit don’t hit me, I just got the car back from the last accident where the other guy wasn’t insured. My insurance company will triple my rates if that car, or that car, or that car, or that POS gardening truck hits me, or drops a weed eater on my hood.

2 Please, I don’t want to race you… just go! I’m really content to cruise right here in the next to slow lane.

3 Alright, this has gotten just way too dangerous. Time to light it up! (Thats when the BMW driver breaks for daylight topping 100 MPH to get away from the insanity.) AKA Jerk Mode

I’ll admit that there are BMW drivers out there that are without a doubt, dumbasses. I absolutely believe that Teenagers and new drivers shouldn’t be driving BMW, Mercedes, Jaguar, Land Rover, Corvettes, or Lexus.

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Many of these cars are built for performance and it’s a lot easier to get into trouble a lot faster with them.

I shudder to think what I’d have been like as an 18 year old with a BMW.

The Datsun and later the Mazda Wagon was by far a better choice (Thanks Mom & Dad!) I had enough speeding tickets in those two vehicles!

I can think of a few ethnicities / genders that you must avoid at all costs in shopping center parking lots because they will run through pedestrian crosswalks without stopping. And yes, they are often driving BMWs.

A fairly recent immigrant friend of mine summed it up this way, “Dude, you gotta remember that last year those folks were shitting in a hole. This year they’re driving BMW and Mercedes Benz. What do you expect?

He went on to explain that where he came from, the warlords, corrupt rich generals, and the obscenely wealthy, aka powerful all drove BMW and Mercedes. The rest of the people walk…

So the first thing people from his former country do when they get here, is buy one of those two cars. Even if they can’t drive, they still have one in the driveway. It’s a symbol to them of prestige.

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And maybe that’s part of the problem…

A lot of folks come here still holding onto the “old country” ways. The new “Haves” (via loan documents) reinforce their self esteem by purchasing their former enemies symbol of power.

The really poor have nots demonstrate their hatred of those symbols unconsciously in ways they never could have in the old country.

The anonymity provided in their cars allows them to take their pound of flesh so to speak, by acting out against the symbols of their former oppressors. Sort of like flinging Yak shit after the evil generals car once he’s turned the corner out of your village.


My conversion is complete. I’ve embraced my inner asshole.

After the first year with my car, I came to the conclusion that the only way to survive was to stay away from the morons.

So Today… I drive fast, I plan my path, I maneuver, I’m impatient, I will not put up with morons playing pace cars at 65 miles an hour, Get the hell out of the way because I don’t want to be involved in your accident. Get off your phone, stop texting, if you want to do 40 fine! Get into the slow lane, or off the freeway.

Trucks, secure your loads, I’ll call your company and I’ll demand repayment for damage that your rocks, sand, and debris does to my car. I’ll take pictures and then send those photos to your supervisors complete with date, time, and GPS coordinates. I worked hard for my nice car and you don’t have the right to fuck it up due to your carelessness or laziness.

I will stop for pedestrians. Especially if I can figure out what the hell the pedestrian is doing. If I can’t figure it out, and there’s another way to go I will. Or I’ll wait annoyed because one person is thoughtlessly taking up my time and the time of all the other drivers stuck behind me, while they wander in the traffic lanes of a shopping center looking for their car.

I won’t generally tailgate. Although there are some people who think that two car lengths isn’t enough space between them and a BMW but they’ll have no problem with a KIA 6 feet off their rear bumper. (Folks… it’s tap the brake pedal to flash your brake lights… NOT SLAM ON YOUR BRAKES TO ELIMINATE THE FOLLOWING DISTANCE!)

I took my car on a nice road trip last year. Once I was 80 miles outside of California, all the sudden the rules of the road,  courtesy, & respect, were back in effect. It was nice to just be able to set the cruise control, drive and enjoy the sights.

It was also an amazing relief to be able to turn off the “Jerk” mode. I’m wanting to take a road trip this fall but it’s looking more and more like that’s not going to happen. I was looking forward to turning off “Jerk” mode again and just enjoying the car & sights.


I guess maybe I am a “Jerk”

I love my BMW.

It’s the fourth car I’ve felt this way about.

It’s comfortable, fast, quiet, and looks good.

For me, who commonly puts 300,000 miles on a vehicle it’s about having something that will last. BMWs are renown for lasting so it’s about value for my dollar, not prestige.

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Believe me… when I have to pay for Gasoline, Service, or Tires, I do rethink my choice.

But then I get into my car and it’s comfortable and paid for. It’s a lot easier to overlook the costs. I hit the ignition and think yeah… worth every penny.

If you’re passed in California by something the looks like a small blackhole doing warp 9, don’t bother to wave or flip me off.

I won’t notice and I don’t care. I’m focused on getting past the obstructions (like you) to my destination without an incident.

Don’t try to follow, don’t get in the way, don’t try to challenge me with your flatulent 4 cylinder rustbucket. I probably won’t notice you because…

My conversion to BMW “Jerk” is complete.