As Long at CT Exists, MA Drivers are Not New Engalnd's Worst

If you see a plate like this--run away!

On the way home from Pennsylvania yesterday I did something I almost never do: drive through Connecticut. Massachusetts drivers have a deserved reputation for idiocy on the highways and byways, but as long as Connecticut remains a New England state, the "Massholes" of legend will never sink lower than being the second worst drivers in the Northeast. You should indeed quake when spotting Massachusetts tags, but you should flee in terror if you see those sky blue Connecticut plates.

Mass drivers are sometimes idiots of the first magnitude–prone to doing things such as imagining that a six-foot-wide SUV stopped fifty yards from the right-hand turn lane can easily squeeze through a three-foot space left by a line of parked cars. No MA driver ever has more than one hand on the wheel–the other must, by custom, be thrust out the driver's side window into the air with middle digit extended. That's done either to determine wind velocity or out of sheer frustration that the car in front refuses to believe that a six-foot wide car can't fit through the three-foot space. Those are the real reasons; do not believe the folktale that the driver is gesticulating because he's furious that someone has usurped his right to be the biggest moron on the macadam.

Still, MA drivers are like little old ladies on their way to an antiwar protest in comparison to those Nutmeg Nightmares to the south. Driving through Connecticut is like being in a perpetual motion three-lane parking lot–minimum speed 75. Earlier on Sunday there was a rumor that a stretch of 1-84 had enough space between cars that it was possible to read the bumper stickers of vehicles two car-lengths in front. A dozen cars were dispatched to the scene and immediately spun off the road into a patch of ornamental grass. That's called "parking" in Connecticut and seems to involve about 10% of all vehicles in the state, with another 15% preferring to come to rest in the median strip.

One also observes that the average Connecticut driver lives in mortal fear that he or she will accidentally use the turn signals. They never use their blinkers, the only exception being if they intend to exit a highway–in which case they turn on their signals seven to ten miles in advance. It is also apparent that the state could save a lot of money simply by not repainting lane markers. There are no lanes in Connecticut, nor is it expected that anyone would deign to look before darting in front of another vehicle. It's caveat auriga–let the driver beware–in the state that put the nut back into nutmeg. Connecticut motorists like to reinforce that value by randomly weaving like a drunken crotchetier working on an ugly afghan.

Insofar as we can tell, there are several other state standards that would be considered bad form or felonies in other places. Passing on the left is for sissies–one should always pass on the right, using the shoulder if necessary. Extra points for taking out sections of the guardrail. Tossing fast food containers onto the highway surface is acceptable if you are going at a high rate of speed and driving erratically at the time. Towing or stowing unstable cargo such as log splitters, homemade campers with mismatched wheel sizes, used mattresses, or junk-laden carts is perfectly peachy as long as the load is not secure, there are no annoying red flags attached, and absolutely no brake lights or turn signals are connected. It is considered gauche to slow down in construction zones, or to pay the slightest attention to those signs that say that fines are doubled in safety corridors. State Motto: Hah! You'd have to catch me first copper! Speaking of which, by our estimate there are just eleven traffic cops in Connecticut, none of whom has ever had the audacity to issue a ticket to a truck driver. Or to any driver sporting those frightful sky blue plates.

Do you need to get anywhere west of Danbury? Do what any sane person would do–take the Mass Pike to the New York state line, pay 35 cents for the short stretch that takes you to the Taconic State Parkway, and proceed south until you connect to I-84 a good half hour west of Connecticut. If you see any Massachusetts plates, honk, and wave. You've nothing to fear from them–they're just jerks; Nutmeggers are malevolent from the grill to the muffler.