One blustery morning a year ago, shortly after I’d decided to stop poisoning myself with alcohol, I was standing on a corner two blocks from my house, waiting to cross the street. Coming toward me, on the side of the road on which I stood, was a truck that kept swerving, gently, in and out of the bike lane, then over a bit into the lane of oncoming traffic, then back, then back into the bike lane. I have finally stopped drinking, I told myself, and this morning, in a way that would impress even O’Henry, I shall die an alcohol-related death. I stepped back from the curb slowly, one careful step at a time. When you confront a bear, I’ve read the best defense is to remain calm. I know that a truck on East Burnside in Portland is not a bear in the woods, but my body reacted as if it were about to be demolished.
The truck, a white Toyota, glided past me as if in slow motion. In the truck’s bed was a large object covered by a blue tarp that was tied with bright yellow twine. The driver, a man wearing a gray jacket and a dark baseball cap, sort of pudgy, with glasses, had one hand on the wheel and the other hand – and most of his attention – on the slim, black device in his hand. I watched him weave his way on down the road toward 82nd, a very major thoroughfare, offered thanks to the powers that be, crossed the street and came home.
I smoke cigarettes, but a couple of years ago I voted in favor of an ordinance barring smoking in almost every public place imaginable. Even though I smoke, I understand the stupidity of it, and I understand the risk it puts on those who don’t smoke but share air with those who are. I feel the same way about cell phones. If people feel the need to talk all day long on a cell phone, that’s their business, of course, but I think those of us who are tired of the mindless braying that is now at the heart of every public experience – not to mention the dangers caused by distracted drivers – have some rights as well. Peace, for starters, and the freedom to think, and have a conversation with someone – someone live, and in person – without having to accommodate interferences from the walky-talkies. And what about safety? According to the manufacturers of automobiles and car seats, safety is a top priority for us in this country, and yet people text and talk while driving, and they walk around downtown Portland with their heads down, furiously punching out messages on their wondrously wireless devices (I recommend running into them on purpose, which is actually a lot of fun). I want cell phone conversations banned in all public places, the way cigarette smoking is. I’ll shut up when I see dark blue signs on buildings that say, in pale gray letters, “No cell phone usage within 10 feet.”
Until then, a new law that took effect January 1 in Oregon will have to suffice. As of Friday, you cannot talk on a handheld cell phone while operating a motorized vehicle on this state's public roadways. Texting while driving is prohibited. That’s because a bill sponsored by Representative Carolyn Tomei, a Democrat I’d vote for if I lived in her district, forbids it. Forbids it, that is, unless your cell phone conversation behind the wheel happens to be related to your job. In all fairness, I guess it’s no worse than the law in Washington, where you can only be fined for a cell phone violation if you were pulled over for something else, like a dead tail light. Then, if the officer happens to notice that you’re also texting while driving, you’re fair game. Imagine, if you will, for just a moment what kind of hell would break loose if car seat laws were written with language that’s nothing more than a procedural wink. Anyhow, I wrote Representative Tomei last week, thanked her once again for her hard work and expressed my disappointment that this law is but a start. To her credit, one of her staff members wrote me back within an hour and told me that the law’s exception applies to people whose jobs require them to drive specialized vehicles, such as tow trucks or taxi cabs. Which is curious, given the wording of the exemption:
· G) To a person operating a motor vehicle in the scope of the person’s employment if operation of the motor vehicle is necessary for the person’s job
I fail to see how this exception does not apply to architects conducting work-related conference calls with the building permit department while driving, real estate agents chasing a tight closing deadline while driving, an attorney making sure that a brief has been filed properly and on time while driving, a hair stylist special ordering a specific shade of heather while driving, a public relations writer interviewing an impressively busy executive while driving, a bookkeeper calling his boss, while driving, to alert her that he’s running late but please, please do not worry about the year ends. It’s all in your definition of ‘necessary,’ of course, but in a society where calling people on your cell phone to let them know where the bus you’re riding is, or calling people from the line at Old Navy to let someone know how many people are in front of you, and how long you think it’s going to take to make your purchase, and how long you think it’s going to take – but you’ll call back if the traffic’s bad – to get home once you leave the mall, in a society where that type of drivel has become critical to our ability to function, I wish Oregon traffic courts the best of luck when it comes to enforcement.
In the meanwhile, I do applaud Representative Tomei and the legislature for taking an honest stab at the issue. I’ll continue to bitch and moan about it and be as obnoxious to texters as possible, because really, when you get right down to it, it’s entertaining. On one hand, we’re so high on the notion of safety we can barely open the front door or answer the telephone or let the youngsters out of our line of sight. On the other hand, when a law is passed to prohibit – sort of – a couple of habits proven to be much, much more dangerous than drunk driving, it makes the national news. For now, I’m just enjoying the rush on hands-free cell phones, evidenced by a barrage of obnoxious commercials brought to us by a company so honestly named it deserves an award: Car Toys. It took me a number of paragraphs to say what the existence of a company with that name can say in two simple, one-syllable words. If there’s a more efficient use of language out there, I’ve yet to see it.
The truck, a white Toyota, glided past me as if in slow motion. In the truck’s bed was a large object covered by a blue tarp that was tied with bright yellow twine. The driver, a man wearing a gray jacket and a dark baseball cap, sort of pudgy, with glasses, had one hand on the wheel and the other hand – and most of his attention – on the slim, black device in his hand. I watched him weave his way on down the road toward 82nd, a very major thoroughfare, offered thanks to the powers that be, crossed the street and came home.
I smoke cigarettes, but a couple of years ago I voted in favor of an ordinance barring smoking in almost every public place imaginable. Even though I smoke, I understand the stupidity of it, and I understand the risk it puts on those who don’t smoke but share air with those who are. I feel the same way about cell phones. If people feel the need to talk all day long on a cell phone, that’s their business, of course, but I think those of us who are tired of the mindless braying that is now at the heart of every public experience – not to mention the dangers caused by distracted drivers – have some rights as well. Peace, for starters, and the freedom to think, and have a conversation with someone – someone live, and in person – without having to accommodate interferences from the walky-talkies. And what about safety? According to the manufacturers of automobiles and car seats, safety is a top priority for us in this country, and yet people text and talk while driving, and they walk around downtown Portland with their heads down, furiously punching out messages on their wondrously wireless devices (I recommend running into them on purpose, which is actually a lot of fun). I want cell phone conversations banned in all public places, the way cigarette smoking is. I’ll shut up when I see dark blue signs on buildings that say, in pale gray letters, “No cell phone usage within 10 feet.”
Until then, a new law that took effect January 1 in Oregon will have to suffice. As of Friday, you cannot talk on a handheld cell phone while operating a motorized vehicle on this state's public roadways. Texting while driving is prohibited. That’s because a bill sponsored by Representative Carolyn Tomei, a Democrat I’d vote for if I lived in her district, forbids it. Forbids it, that is, unless your cell phone conversation behind the wheel happens to be related to your job. In all fairness, I guess it’s no worse than the law in Washington, where you can only be fined for a cell phone violation if you were pulled over for something else, like a dead tail light. Then, if the officer happens to notice that you’re also texting while driving, you’re fair game. Imagine, if you will, for just a moment what kind of hell would break loose if car seat laws were written with language that’s nothing more than a procedural wink. Anyhow, I wrote Representative Tomei last week, thanked her once again for her hard work and expressed my disappointment that this law is but a start. To her credit, one of her staff members wrote me back within an hour and told me that the law’s exception applies to people whose jobs require them to drive specialized vehicles, such as tow trucks or taxi cabs. Which is curious, given the wording of the exemption:
· G) To a person operating a motor vehicle in the scope of the person’s employment if operation of the motor vehicle is necessary for the person’s job
I fail to see how this exception does not apply to architects conducting work-related conference calls with the building permit department while driving, real estate agents chasing a tight closing deadline while driving, an attorney making sure that a brief has been filed properly and on time while driving, a hair stylist special ordering a specific shade of heather while driving, a public relations writer interviewing an impressively busy executive while driving, a bookkeeper calling his boss, while driving, to alert her that he’s running late but please, please do not worry about the year ends. It’s all in your definition of ‘necessary,’ of course, but in a society where calling people on your cell phone to let them know where the bus you’re riding is, or calling people from the line at Old Navy to let someone know how many people are in front of you, and how long you think it’s going to take to make your purchase, and how long you think it’s going to take – but you’ll call back if the traffic’s bad – to get home once you leave the mall, in a society where that type of drivel has become critical to our ability to function, I wish Oregon traffic courts the best of luck when it comes to enforcement.
In the meanwhile, I do applaud Representative Tomei and the legislature for taking an honest stab at the issue. I’ll continue to bitch and moan about it and be as obnoxious to texters as possible, because really, when you get right down to it, it’s entertaining. On one hand, we’re so high on the notion of safety we can barely open the front door or answer the telephone or let the youngsters out of our line of sight. On the other hand, when a law is passed to prohibit – sort of – a couple of habits proven to be much, much more dangerous than drunk driving, it makes the national news. For now, I’m just enjoying the rush on hands-free cell phones, evidenced by a barrage of obnoxious commercials brought to us by a company so honestly named it deserves an award: Car Toys. It took me a number of paragraphs to say what the existence of a company with that name can say in two simple, one-syllable words. If there’s a more efficient use of language out there, I’ve yet to see it.
