Things I learned about driving from watching movies.
All vehicles will explode into a titanic fireball if they are even nicked by a bullet, including a .22
The hero always finds a great parking spot directly in front of whatever building he's driving to, including downtown Manhattan.
Women always turn the lights on before they start the car; men always leave the lights on when they exit the car. Both are dismayed when they find that the battery is dead...just as the monster/serial killer/rogue cop is closing in on them.
Everyone knows how to hot wire a car.
No one ever wears a seat belt, but they always walk away unscratched from the most horrendous crashes.
During car chases down an alley, the lead car constantly smashes into stacks of cardboard boxes, all of which are empty.
If you cell phone, radio and engine freakishly die at the same time on a dark, deserted road, it means there's a flying saucer hovering 10 feet over the roof of your car.
Nobody ever has to gas up their vehicle.
The hero's car always just clears the tracks before the train thunders through.
When making out in a car, the chick can hear a hamster's heart beating from 100 yards away, but the dude is incapable of hearing Godzilla playing a banjo in the back seat.
If a vehicle (and its driver) is hot, hip and sexy, they can launch their car from one skyscraper to another, crashing through the floor to ceiling plate glass windows on each building before coming to a sliding stop.
Even though the driver takes his eyes off the road to talk directly to his passenger for 30 seconds, he never swerves or hits anything.
All car trunks are large enough and clean enough to hold a body.
Any car that flies off a cliff will explode in mid-air. I think it's a factory option.
All cars have an extra set of keys above the visor.
The scabrous, drunken bum who staggers out to squeegee the hero's windshield is always a cleverly disguised undercover agent sent to warn him that he's in danger.
Sooner or later all roads in California will take you past the ocean at Malibu.
Stupid is as stupid does
I don't know what it is that makes some people so stupid when they get behind the wheel. Allow me to offer you three examples.
I recently pulled into a gas station where the pump arrangement allowed four vehicles to gas up at the same time.
There was a vehicle at the far pump on my side so I stopped behind him and started to fill my tank. There were no cars at the pumps on the other side of the island, which meant there were two open spots.
A woman pulled in to gas up, but she didn't drive up to the far pump, which meant that anyone else would have to pull past her and either back into the slot or pull in head first and then jockey back to line up with the pump.
It just didn't make sense to me; all she had to do was pull forward about 25 feet which would have made life a whole lot easier for the next guy.
I almost asked her what her reasoning was, but thought better of it; besides she was busy yakking on her cell phone.
While I'm pumping a car pulls in on her side of the island and tried to park ahead of her vehicle. Except this guy was having a real hard time maneuvering his car to the pump.
He kept trying to back in like he was attempting to parallel park, but wasn't very good at it. He kept going back and forth, back and forth. Then I saw why; he was steering the car with one hand while chattering away on a cell phone.
Do you think it ever occured to him to tell his caller something like "hey, I have to hang up, but I'll call back in a minute."
Or maybe even tell the caller that he had to pull the phone down for a couple of seconds so he could park at the pump.
Nope, not this deep thinker, so he continued to talk while attempting to jitterbug his way to the pump.
Third example: I recently pulled into the left hand turn lane of an intersection with just one car in front of me. I was about to snug myself in behind that car when I noticed that the vehicle had its white back up lights on.
For some reason the vehicle was in "reverse" gear instead of "drive."
I told myself that this was not good.
So I stopped about 20 feet behind the car just in case the driver didn't come out of their coma before the light turned green...which they didn't.
The green left turn arrow activated and the driver floored it...and shot backwards about 15 feet before coming to a screeching halt.
My vehicle would have crushed if I hadn't been paying attention. The other drive slipped it into drive and made their turn.
I pulled along side and gave her a look that hadn't been washed in years, but she never noticed BECAUSE SHE WAS YAKKING ON HER CELL PHONE!
The MIchigan Secretary of State recently announced it is going to forbid teenage drivers from talking or texting on cell phones if they had previously been resonsible for a crash due to their use of a cell phone.
Why limit it to teenagers?
If a supposedly responsible adult is at fault for a traffic crash because they were using a cell phone, why shouldn't they be restricted from using one thereafter while driving?
Why should stupidity only be partially punished?
Attention: There's a new drive-in in town!
Psssst.
I'll let you in on a little secret: there's a "new" three-screen drive-in movie theater in town, and hardly anyone knows about it!
In an era when drive-ins are mostly a memory, the folks at the Compuware Arena in Plymouth have set up established a three-screen drive-in movie complex in their parking lot. Actually, the Compuware Arena Drive-In has been in operation for the past two years, according to sales and marketing coordinator Rachel Sutton.
"But very few people seem to know about it," Sutton said.
"We have three large screens in our parking lot with spaces available for hundreds of vehicles. We offer two first-run movies per screen and we also have a concession stand, which offers popcorn, hot dogs and drinks. For this season, we're also going to set up a large grill, which will also offer hamburgers, brats and ribs," she said.
According to Sutton, the idea for the drive-in came when the ice arena realized its parking lot was sitting empty for the summer.
"The hockey season keeps us busy from September through April, but after that the lot is virtually empty," Sutton said.
"So we established a drive-in two years ago but the word hasn't gotten out that much. This year we've set aside Tuesdays for classic car nights. The idea is for is for classic car owners to arrive a little earlier than the movie so people can walk around and admire all the cars."
The regulation opening for the Compuware Arena drive-in is set for June 13, but the complex has set up two "sneak peek" weekends set for this Friday and Saturday and on May 23, 24 and 25. Prices are $9 for ages 13 and older; $7 for ages 4 to 12; and children 3 and under are free.
The price for students Sunday through Thursday is $7 (you must show a student identification card). Oh yes, dogs are welcome as long as they're on a leash.
Playing this weekend: "Ironman" and "Drillbit Taylor," "The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian" and "National Treasure II" as well as "Baby Mama" and "Forgetting Sarah Marshall."
The address for the Compuware Arena Drive-In is located at 14900 Beck Road. For more information, call (734) 453-6400 or go to www.compuwarearena.com.
Classic cars, movies under the stars, popcorn, brats, burgers and ribs?
I am so there.
A good man is gone
There are people in all our lives who remain good friends, whether or not you see them on a regular basis. You just know that their friendship is rock solid and permanent.
That's the way it was with me and Sam Cardella.
I met Sam during the summer of 1975 during the heady days of my first full time job in journalism when I was hired by the Grosse Pointe News. One of my many duties was to cover the police beat for all five of the Pointes.
Looking for a good feature story, I asked then Farms Chief of Police Bob Ferber if I could ride around at night with one of his officers.
He suggested that I hook up with Sam, who was more than happy to help out a cub reporter. During my eight hour ride along, Sam clued me in on all kinds of fascinating police practices, like the special phrasing used by dispatchers to tip off an officer if the driver they had pulled over was a wanted man.
He showed me the switches which disabled the brake lights so the bad guys wouldn't see a police car creeping down a darkened alley; he also showed me how to unlocked the shotgun by the front seat, "just in case."
Sam also pointed out the homes of some of the less savory individuals in the Farms: "the guy that lives here is a drunk who beats his wife," Sam would say, or "we keep an eye on the guy in this house because he's always watching kids on the playground."
Sam also told me about his most "famous" arrest to date: that of the "Mad Puker of Grosse Pointe Farms."
(Be forewarned, the following story is funny, but pretty gross.)
According to Sam, residents in the Farms had been complaining about finding vast pools of vomit on their drive ways when leaving for work in the morning.
After studying the sites of the "deposits" Sam figured out where the Mad Puke would strike next and volunteered for a late night stakeout.
"I was hiding behind a bush at about 2 a.m. when I heard a noise," Sam told me.
"Then I saw this really pale skinny arm comes over the back fence, followed by a pale skinny leg. This really gaunt looking guy comes into the backyard, then walks over to a garden hose and jammed it down his throat like a swordswallower."
At this point Sam said he felt like he was going to faint, but didn't. According to Sam, the MP then turned on the hose and held the hose down his throat until he suddenly pulled it out, which was then followed by a geyser of ...well, vomit.
"I arrested him, and it turned out to be a sad story," Sam said. "It seems he suffered from an eating disorder. His parents said they had to keep chains around the refrigerator and pantry to keep him away from the food."
I kept in touch with Sam as he slowly climbed the ranks from patrolman to corporal to sergeant and then lieutenant. The entire time Sam kept taking extra courses to make himself a better public servant; classes in things like CPR, fire fighting, emergency medical care and the like.
I ended up covering the Pointes when I came to The Detroit News, so Sam and I kept our friendship and professional contact alive. One of the stories I wrote about Sam is when he broke up an armed robbery while in civilian clothes.
Sam -- dressed in shorts and a golf shirt -- was picking up a pizza on Mack Avenue when he looked through the back door of the restaurant and saw a gunman inside. Sam sprinted back to his car for his revolver, then charged in and made the arrest.
In another story Sam was the first officer on the scene of a car that had jumped the curb on Lakeshore and plunged into Lake St. Clair.
It was a bitterly cold winter day and when I got there, Sam was standing on the roof of the completely submerged car, shouting directions to a group of rescue scuba divers who had arrived at the scene.
Sam had immediately jumped into the lake and tried to free the driver, but was unsuccessful. He was drenched and shivering from hypothermia, but wouldn't leave the scene until the body was recovered.
By the way, this was after Sam had had the first of two triple by pass surgeries.
The last time I saw Sam we were at the retirement party for the Grosse Pointe Farms Fire chief. Always proud of his heritage, I agreed with Sam that Italian food was the best in the world. After further confessing my love of eggplant and parmesan cheese, Sam made me an honorary Italian.
Sam retired from the Grosse Pointe Farms Police Department a few years ago ... as chief of police. He died last week at age 67.
Sam was generous, hard working, funny and fearless.
What a loss for us all.
<What a satisfying feeling!
If you're anything like me, you get highly incensed when you see the bad driving of others on the freeway.
I'm not referring to the commuter who makes a minor mistake by drifting too close to your lane or the driver who occasionally forgets to use their turn signal.
I'm referring to the really aggressive pilot who makes life hell for everyone unforunate enough to be driving anywhere near him.
And, like you, I often swear and then indignantly ask "where the heck are the cops?"
But every now and then the traffic gods smile and intervene, like they did Tuesday morning on the Lodge Freeway.
The speed limit on the Lodge is 55 mph (but since we live in the real world, I can tell you that anyone who drives the legal limit will be eaten alive), and on this particular morning the average speed was probably 65 mph.
And then this huge, black, shiny,Cadillac Escalade screamed up from behind radiating nothing but arrogance and impatience.
The driver was speeding, tailgating and jumping from lane to lane in his dangerous attempt to pass everyone who was slowing him down.
It was infuriating, and, as always, I asked why there wasn't a cop around to grab this guy.
And then it happened; the Caddie whipped off the freeway at the Bagley exit, screaming past a Michigan State Police "blue goose" which was lying in wait underneath a viaduct.
The trooper whipped onto the Bagley exit and scooted right up behind the Escalade. The Caddie driver immediately hit his brakes and attempted to look innocent, but it was way too late for that.
The trooper lit the "gumball" on his roof and the Escalade pulled to the side. I was almost tempted to pull along side the trooper and give him a "thumbs up" for his perfect timing, but decided against it.
It's not very often when you're on the scene when someone gets their just deserts, but when you are, it makes it all that much sweeter.
The "C" and the "D"
I drove to Chicago over the weekend to celebrate my daughter's birthday. After returning home I've come to the conclusion that we really don't have traffic problems here in the Metro area.
We think we do, but compared with Chicago, the Detroit area looks as wide and empty as the Bonneville Flats. Of course the reason for that is that Chicago is a vibrant, high energy city that that attracts businesses and tourists.
I wish I could say the same for Detroit, but I can't. Now, before someone gets froggy and accuses me of dumping on Detroit, please hold your bile.
I love Detroit and want nothing but the best for it. I was born in Detroit, lived there for a number of years and actively defend it against outsiders who disparage the "D."
But facts are facts: Detroit cannot compare to Chicago when it comes to quality of life. The city is clean, well lit, has a tremendous public transportation system, displays a stunning skyline and is jammed with pedestrians, bikers, joggers and tourists.
It also has an unbelievable night life; the kind of night life of which Detroit can only dream and drool. Again, I'm sorry, but it's simply the truth.
But at the same time it has tremendous traffic and parking problems (to say nothing of the extremely irritating toll roads.) I found driving in Chicago to be a pressure filled nightmare. The streets are jammed and the drivers are very aggressive.
Have you ever encountered a six street intersection?
I hadn't until I drove last weekend in Chicago; the city is filled with them. Cars are coming from all different angles and you are convinced that each and every one of them is going to hit you.
Finding a parking spot is a Darwinian struggle for survival. I drove down extremely narrow streets where cars were parked bumper to bumper. If a vehicle came down that street from another direction it was more or less a stand off.
My daughter told me of a new brownstone down the street from her apartment that was on the market for well over $1 million, but it didn't include parking. If you wanted a permanent parking spot it would cost you ANOTHER $30,000!
My advice if you're driving to Chicago? Load up with plenty of money, use GPS for navigation and bring your own parking spot.
Browsing readers just as bad as bad drivers
Over the past weekend I traveled to the Laurel Place Mall in Livonia for Bookstock, a used book fair. As a voracious reader, I was overjoyed to see hundreds of people lined up to purchase used books, CDs, DVDs, LPs, magazines and journals.
If there was one drawback to the event, it was dealing with a crowd of hundreds who were poring over thousands of books in a pretty limited space. However, it worked out fine because the crowds formed and followed -- for the most part -- some pretty informal rules to cut down on the chaos. What interested me was the way some people decided to do things their way, no matter how much it screwed things up for everyone else.
Over time I realized that they reminded me of bad drivers we've all met on the road.
For instance: Each large, rectangular table was filled with hundreds of certain types of books, such as fiction, mysteries, history, etc. Those browsing at the various tables worked their way around the table counterclockwise It was slow, but effective; everyone shuffled along while scoping out the offerings. But every once in a while someone would disrupt the flow by touring the table in a clockwise direction.
It was a major pain because you had to make room for these wrong way drivers who ignored all the glares they were receiving. This is the same person who drives the wrong way down a one-way street or in a parking lane at the mall.
Then there were the browsers who went with the flow, but the pace wasn't fast enough for them. You're standing shoulder to shoulder with other bibliophiles, but this person is "nudging" you to go faster.
They got the message across with bumps, little shoves, heavy sighs and impatient looks. Hey, knock it off! I can't go any faster than the guy/car in front of me.
QUIT TAILGATING ME!
There wasn't much room between the tables, which were all lined up in parallel. Anyone trying to walk between the tables found themselves twisting and turning just to get through.
These crowded "alleyways" were constantly being jammed up by people who decided this was a perfect spot to stand and begin to read the book they were contemplating buying. Sure it caused a traffic jam, but hey, they were very important people. Right?
Kind of sounds like the jerks yakking on their cell phones as they slowly meander down the freeway, backing up traffic as they complete that oh-so-important call.
It also reminded me of the morons who deliberately take up two parking spaces at the mall.
The line to pay for the books was long and moved pretty slowly. No problem, because you could always browse through your selection as you shuffled along.
But as I neared the head of the line, some guy tried to force his way in front of me. "Do you mind if I cut ahead of you?" he asked. "I only have a couple of books."
This is the same joker who rushes to the merging point at a construction lane and tries to force his way in.
Yeah, I do mind. I waited for my turn, so hike yourself to the back of the line like everyone else.
Share these 'stereotypes' with your favorite law enforcement officer
I wish I could take credit for the following "stereotypes" about police, but I can't. It was sent to me by longtime pal Gary Mitchell, former chief of police for Grosse Pointe Shores.
The list is howlingly funny and probably more accurate than most police would like to admit. Enjoy!
Police stereotypes:
Narcotics units
Grows facial hair and tells everyone he was ordered to.
Watches every episode of "Monster Garage."
Buys a biker wallet with a big chain and gets numerous tats.
Every case involves overtime $$$. Buys boats, RVs and motorcycles with the overtime.
Plays golf drunk.
SWAT
Wears team T-shirts that are two sizes too small, Oakley sunglasses and boots every day.
Tries to fit the word "breach" into every conversation. Has a mirror handy to check hair, if he has hair.
Has three knives concealed on his person at all times.
Never says hello to anyone who is not an operator.
Just practices his SWAT Head nods, and flexes biceps at every opportunity.
Subscribes to Soldier of Fortune & Muscle and Fitness.
Plays golf wearing his .45.
Community Service
Hates SWAT.
Tries to make everybody love him.
Paints his office in pastel colors.
Thinks Feng Shui.
Subscribes to Psychology Today.
Plays miniature golf.
School Resource Officers
Starbucks before work, shows up on campus at 0800. Knows every coffee pot on campus.
Sits behind his desk, pretending to work, but really surfing the net.
Hates kids, but loves the hours.
Only talks to the really hot teachers.
Only works at night when there is a football game.
Drives a golf cart all day on campus.
Traffic
Writes tickets to EVERYBODY.
Spends every weekend cleaning bike and polishing boots.
Annoys everyone on the radio, calling out T-stops.
Talks only about how many tickets he wrote that day.
Rides by buildings with big windows to see his reflection.
"Golf is lame, motor rodeos are cool!"
Administrative Units
Three-hour lunches every day; tells everybody it's a "meeting".
Always carries a manilla folder, so it looks like he's working, even if it is empty.
Upgrades department cell phone every month.
Tells everybody he has been published in a national law enforcement magazine.
Updates revenge list weekly.
"Golf Rules!" Plays lots of golf, especially with "higher ups."
Patrol
Has nerves of steel.
Is in a terminal state of heartburn from department politics.
Unable to keep mouth shut.
Has odd tastes in alcohol.
Is respected by peers.
Furiously beats the crap out of his caddy on every bogeyed golf shot.
Investigators
Comes in at 0800. "Breakfast" from 0815 to 1030.
Works from 1030 to noon. Works out and lunch to 1400; 1400-1700, sits in Criminal Investigation Department talking about his girlfriends and how the wife doesn't know.
Then plans his next RV, fishing or motorcycle trip.
Patrol Sergeant
Fondly remembers, "how we used to do it." Always willing to tell his officers about it.
Fits the word "liability" into every other sentence.
Talks constantly about "what I'm hearing from upstairs."
Trainee
Unable to grow facial hair.
Watches every episode of "Cops."
Worships the ground SWAT guys walk on.
Wears black leather gloves at all times.
Arrives for work two hours early.
Thinks the sergeant is thrilled to see him.
Won't drink on a golf course because of the open container ordinance.
Royal Oak parking meter$
I don't know about you, but I'm pretty frosted about the recent decision by Royal Oak officials to install parking meters at the Royal Oak Farmers Market on 11 Mile Road.
I'll be honest and confess my bias right up front: I hate parking meters. I hate the idea of having to pay for two universal constants: time and space.
I hate the fact that parking "enforcement" agents (in any city, not just Royal Oak) seem to be everywhere at all times. Don't you wish the police were that efficient?
I hate the fact that I'm parked in the city in order to spend my money at local businesses, but let me overstay by 10 seconds and the burg will nick me (and you) for an extra $5 or $10. Hey, thanks for shopping here. Please come back soon!
Now the powers that be have decided to milk anyone stopping off at the farmers market, which I can tell you is a very popular place on sunny Saturday afternoons.
I've shopped at the FM for decades and I can tell you that the turnover there is unbelievable; cars are constantly pulling in and out of the lot.
On average, I'd estimate that average shopper spends less than 15 minutes in the market before they head off somewhere else.
Am I anti-Royal Oak? Nope, I grew up in RO, I'm a proud graduate of Dondero High School and I live in Pleasant Ridge, just across the city line.
I love Royal Oak, but the idea of bleeding shoppers for extra money by installing meters at the farmers market smacks of avarice. And let's not forget the added revenue that will come with the inevitable parking tickets.
What's next? Is the city going to install parking meters at the bicycle racks outside the public library? How about parking meters in the parking lots outside of funeral homes?
I guess anything is possible.
Trashy, Not Classy.
It doesn't happen very often, but every once in a while I run into a situation that absolutely stops me dead in my tracks. It happened earlier this week when I encountered what had to be the messiest car in the world. Now, we all know someone who drives a messy car; one that's filled with papers, wrappers, pop containers, etc. But the owner of this car was light years beyond that. I had left my car in a small parking lot and gone inside a building to conduct a little business. When I returned there was a red Ford Focus parked next to my SUV. The exterior was in good shape; no dings, no dents, no rust or broken windows covered with a plastic bag and duct tape. Not was it dirtier than any other car for this time of year; just the usual salty grime that covers every car in Michigan during the winter. It was the interior which amazed and appalled me. On the passenger side, there was trash piled almost to the top of the front and back seat windows. There was, perhaps, two inches of space between the top of the window and the top of the trash. While I didn't stop to take notes, the trash was mostly paper bags, wrappers, pop bottles, plastic milk containers and other assorted pieces of debris. The back window was almost completely blocked by newspapers...old newspapers, yellowed with age. It was a situation where you didn't want to look, but couldn't force yourself to look away. This vehicle was truly the Mt. Everest of Car Crap. If I had opened that passenger door, I swear the the stuff would have flowed out and covered me in waste to my waist. But then the biggest shock of all occured: there was movement inside the car! There was so much debris in there that I didn't notice that there was someone sitting in the driver's seat. There was so much dreck in the way that I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, young or old, black or white. That's how messy this vehicle was. I backed out and as I drove away, I scoped out the rest of the car. The back window and the left side rear window were also jammed to the roof with ... whatever! The only place you could sit in the car was in the driver's seat; it was like a little cockpit surrounded by a landfill. I never did get a look at the driver; not sure if I really wanted to. What makes a person live like that? Are they simply pack rats, or maybe it's a psychological need to put up a barrier between themselves and the outside world? Either way I'm staying away from that car.
