Giving cranks the shaft
By Sheryl-Lee Kerr
NEXT time you’re negotiating the roads, take a peek at the
vehicle beside you. Now, take a long hard look at the driver.
Presuming you weren’t just gently nudged into a traffic pole, you
have just learnt a great deal about your fellow man or woman. Nope, it’s true. Upon my unkempt desk has lobbed a story that London’s Royal Automobile Club has found that the choice of a driver’s car colour tells you more than you ever cared to know about your fellow road users.
For instance, drivers of the pucemobiles, be warned: ye of the pinks,
purples, mauves and all-round calming pastels are actually a major
worry. You are, says the RAC research into driver psychology,
“eight times more likely to suffer from depression than people with bright coloured cars’’.
And those with cars in the newer pastel colours of lilac and lime, order the paint job now: you are “twice as likely” to be road-rage victims.
Drivers of white cars can stop smirking - the RAC says you are more
likely to be ‘‘distant and aloof’’.
As for happy drivers? You are apparently zipping by zestily in silver
or metallic-blue.
Now, while I don’t doubt the research of the good people at the
London RAC - the acronym is too spectacularly officious-sounding for that - I suspect there are other factors that may have been overlooked in assessing driving psychology.
I feel it only fair I offer a few further considerations for mulling by the white-coaters and clipboard carriers.
Through extensive research, I have noted that large fluffy dice
signify both that a Datsun 120Y is approaching and that the groovy
driver still thinks Harold Holt is ‘‘prime minister, dude’’ - or
else a male driver is using the dangling appendages to futilely
overcompensate for his lack of a manly, er, bullbar.
Then there is the spittle-dribbling-down-the-inside-of-the-windscreen
factor. This indicates either John Howard is in the car or that the
driver is prone to shouting childish insults at others while doing
many erratic U-turns, in which case, John Howard is in the car.
The cars with mag wheels contain premature accelerators. These drivers, typified by people laughing “yore dead meat, moit” and much finger gesticulation, go very, very fast and require a lot of rubber smoke to overtake you so they can get to the next set of red lights first.
This process is then repeated. In technical terms, these are sufferers of moronic neurone disease. Or idiots for short.
And finally, there are Pavlov’s Hogs. These road hogs take it as a
personal affront when someone honks a horn at them. They clomp on
the brakes, bring their vehicles to a halt mid-traffic, get out and tap
on your window.
The incorrect response is to roll down your window and say: ‘‘Two cheeseburgers and a Coke’’.
I would not advise this - unless you also add: ‘‘And don’t skimp on the fries’’ – while flooring it.
These drivers are what are termed “scary’’.
Well, I trust the RAC was taking notes. I shall, of course, continue
my research in this field. So, if you see someone passing by in her
‘‘happy’’ metallic-blue beast, peering at your fluffy dice knowingly,
please, do not be alarmed.
It’s all in the name of science.
© Sheryl-Lee Kerr & The
Advertiser, 17 MAR 1998