Nathan's Guide to Silicon Valley Drivers (an anthropological study)

Fellow Commuters,

We're told that the Silicon Valley commute could be worse. We're reminded that we could be driving in Boston, as if that's supposed to make us feel better. Yes, I've driven in Boston, and yes, it is a tough town for drivers. But at least in Boston you know what you are dealing with when you hit the road, for there is only one type of driver in Boston: the selfish jerk. It is a mutually agreed-upon understanding they have there. As long as everyone in Boston agrees to drive like a selfish jerk then everyone there knows what to expect from their fellow commuters. There are no unknowns. Predictions can be made. Order is maintained. Progress marches on.

Silicon Valley driving, on the other hand, is a constant guessing game. Accurate predictions as to what the other guy plans to do next are impossible to make. There's no way to tell if the other driver is competent or not. There is no way to know whether any given driver would rather you merge into traffic or into a retaining wall. They say our problem is that there are too many drivers here. If only it were that simple. The problem is there are too many kinds of drivers here. Indeed, if variety is the spice of life, we're all on the rack. But don't despair, my friends. If there's a silver lining to the Silicon Valley commute cloud, it's that it gives us plenty of time to sit and think and observe our fellow drivers.

With my spare time, I've begun categorizing Silicon Valley drivers into groups. I now share some of these categories with you, in the hope this will allow you to better understand your fellow commuters. Obviously this is not a comprehensive list, merely a beginning. Consider it a starting point for making your own list. It would take the fun out of it if I did all of the compilation work myself. So go placidly amid the noise and haste that is a typical Silicon Valley commute, and be on the lookout for the following types of drivers:

The Zookeeper

Is The Zookeeper's need to obscure the rear window with stuffed animals a lifestyle choice, or is it genetic? Does the constant presence of stuffed animals over their shoulders help the Zookeepers explain away the constant din of voices that otherwise fills their heads? Perhaps science will never know, and this is not the place to discuss the morality of such behavior. But this is the proper forum to restate the obvious. The ability to see behind your car is as important as the ability to see in front of it.

I have some advice for Zookeepers. One or two small stuffed animals in the rear window is fine, and should be sufficient to provide the level of emotional security you need to leave the house and lead an otherwise normal adult life. I'm sure there are charities in the area that would welcome the donation of several dozen sun-bleached toys. Yes, we understand the world is a scary place, but you need to take this important healing step for yourself.

By the way, your promise to "brake for unicorns" is admirable, but if you do see a unicorn, please just keep on driving. Odds are good it's a hallucination anyway and you'll pass right through it. I only mention it because most insurance policies don't cover accidents caused by mythical creatures. Those of us you can't see driving behind you thank you in advance for your consideration.

The A-Haul

A-Hauls are everywhere, but they make their presence most known on 17. No, I'm not talking about truckers. Truckers have training, experience, and a very keen understanding of how the laws of physics apply to their vehicles. I'm talking about those that drive rental trucks as if they were still driving a car. Avoid A-Hauls. They're the ones who speed and tailgate on the straightaways, but brake and swerve wildly out of control on the curves. They're the ones who fail to realize they aren't in their Miata anymore and that their center of gravity is now located somewhere above and behind them.

Imagine that driving is like walking with a book on your head. Now imagine that there's a whole library up there and you're starting to get the right idea. Believe me, I understand that moving can be very stressful. But it's definitely not the time to start entertaining your "Smokey and the Bandit" fantasies. Ten-four, good buddy?

The Multiprocessor

If you're like me, you get up each morning and after brushing and flossing your teeth, you sit down to read the morning paper. Often you enjoy a good cup of coffee and maybe a muffin. Sometimes you phone the office just to check in. We all have such morning rituals. Foolishly, most of us do these things one at a time and at home. Think of how much more time you'd have if you did all of this at once and in your car! Hey, if the car makers didn't want you combing your hair, they wouldn't have put that convenient mirror there, right? Why, as the Jaws of Life remove you from around that pesky telephone pole and the paramedics haul you away, you can pat yourself on the back (with your good arm) for the way you efficiently organize your day. Those of us who share your own personal breakfast nook salute your ingenuity. I'm sure your survivors will too.

The Earthship Captain

Those of you who commute from and to Santa Cruz every day are most familiar with this category of driver. Once upon a time, Earthship Captains only drove one kind of vehicle, so they were easy to spot and avoid. But during our long national nightmare, when Volkswagen wasn't making Beetles, they branched out a bit. Now it's impossible to predict what they're driving. Just be on the lookout for an overabundance of bumperstickers.

If you can read the "T" in Tibet, you're way too close. Back off and give them a lot of room. They tend to "practice random acts", which is a nice way of saying they drive unpredictably.This is due mainly in part to their frequent acid flashbacks. Never stare directly into the vehicle of an Earthship Captain. It may literally be the last thing you ever see. Earthship Captains like to hang crystals from their rearview mirrors. Doing so provides them with centering wholeness and stuff. Sadly, it also tightly focuses sunlight into a narrow beam that will fry the corneas of other drivers.

Ride Captain, ride, but can you keep that thing in the glove compartment? Don't worry, Mother Earth will still know it's there. In fact, she'll breath a big old planetary sigh of relief now that the people driving behind you aren't careening out of control and into her trees.

The Psychic Friend

I'll admit that I don't keep up with the automotive trade journals as much as I used to. But my assumption is that turn signals still come standard in most new cars. Certainly, if turn signals are now an added option, like air conditioning, then drivers in the Psychic Friends category would only drive late model cars. Yet Psychic Friends can be found driving any make and vintage.

You know the type. You're driving along with such thoughts as, "with all of the money I donate to National Public Radio, you'd think they could buy a halfway decent spit guard for their microphones." Suddenly you are aware of a faint buzzing in your pinneal gland. "Something's about to happen," you think. But what? Then, from nowhere, another driver pulls into your lane in front of you. They did not use a turn signal. It doesn't make sense. Who would be so self-centered and reckless to pull into another lane without signalling? Ah, but maybe they did signal. That faint buzzing you felt could have been a "psychic turn signal". People who don't use turn signals obviously represent an offshoot of humanity with advanced powers of extra-sensory perception. It's easy for them to forget they share a road with mundane fellow humans who tend to rely on just five senses and can't read the minds of other drivers.

Let me just remind the Psychic Friends that an actual, physical turn signal shows sensitivity to those of us that human mental evolution has left behind. Also, here's a little ESP test for you Psychic Friends out there: I'm thinking of a hand gesture. Can you see it in your mind's eye yet? Clear your thoughts and concentrate. Is it coming to you now? Good. I grow weary now.

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