The Coonridge Digest: You know the odds

Greetings from the Ridge.

I’ve never tried my hand at the Las Vegas gaming tables, figuring that if the Nevada town could build casinos of gold then they must know something about their odds of winning. Nor have I ever purchased a lottery ticket. Every time I hear that the chances of getting hit by lightning 14 times are greater than winning the Lotto, I head for cover.

Or maybe after a lifetime living with Herb I figure that my betting instinct is pretty poor. For whatever reason, I’ve left gambling to the high rollers and the chance takers. The only rolls I can cover are the ones concealed by my expando-pants. Until now?

I’d always figured that my only sure bets were death, taxes, and the fact that the cash register will break down just as I get to the check-out counter, but I now think I’ve stumbled upon a bet I can win.

It’s dawned upon me in the last couple of years that there is one situation that I can predict with enough assuredness that I’d gladly bet the farm – or at least my front yard.

Here’s the situation: I’m cruising down the highway and suddenly the car approaching me starts edging into my lane. First it’s just the bumper, then the entire left front wheel, and as I panic and take to the shoulder of the road, the entire approaching car is straddling the striped line and headed right toward my destruction. I used to hedge my bets on the condition of the driver – he’s drunk, she’s passed out, an alien has taken control of the vehicle, or the Republican National Committee has sent a suicide driver to wipe me out. Lately I’ve been discarding these wilder theories and changing my bet to a single cause of such poor driving: the driver is talking on a cell phone.

Or I’ll be pegging the speed element at exactly the proper M.P.H. when suddenly a driver will come out of nowhere and jump onto my tail. Inches will separate her front bumper from my rear end. Miles and miles will pass, hills, valleys, and open stretches of highway and still the driver won’t pass and won’t stop sucking my taillights. In past times I’d assume that either the driver was delirious or the IRS was trying to pull off a mobile audit. Lately, I’ve changed by bet.

It’s dollars to donuts that the driver is a teenage girl chatting happily away on her cell phone. Since the typical cell phone driver has no concept of what’s happening in the real world while she chats with mommy about last night’s episode of Grey’s Anatomy, she doesn’t realize that she’s about to become a part of mine.

Or the stoplight will turn green. The car ahead of me remains fixed in the lane of traffic. Two bread trucks, a UPS van, and a family of four from Colorado are lined up behind me. The bread trucks start to honk, the UPS man nervously checks his watch, and the Coloradans start cracking snide jokes about Midwest drivers. I crane my neck to see what’s wrong with the driver who refuses to move. He’s on his cell phone. The world has stopped – along with the rest of us – while he finishes his conversation.

Or you sit on a side road for ten minutes waiting for a break in the traffic. Your appointment is in ten minutes and it seems like everyone in the county has decided to go to work at this very moment. The line of approaching traffic stretches toward Indiana. Finally a slow-moving vehicle approaches. Should you gun it and screech out ahead of them?

Are they really moving that slowly? Has your depth perception gone the way of your stomach muscles? You play it safe and wait. Then, with no turn signal flashing, the car pulls into your side road. You could have made it but you’ve blown your one chance to get out onto the highway of life. As the driver passes you, you see the cell phone. She had no extra hand left to flip the switch. The good news: she’s having a marvelous time chatting.

Five states have banned cell phone use while driving and 14 states have partial bans. The United States is practically alone in the world by allowing such ridiculous practices. In Ireland you go to jail after the third offense, many countries wage heavy fines, and in South Korea you earn points against your driving record and could eventually lose your license. States like Illinois are considering legislation banning teenagers from using the phone while driving. Translated: teenagers don’t vote.

If we don’t have the guts to ban cell phones in cars, then let’s at least create a new betting opportunity for those of us who know the odds. It might help pay for our funeral.

You ever in Coonridge, stop by. We may not answer the door, but you’ll enjoy the trip.