Entries in Directions (2)
SIGNS & SIGNAGE: NO HELP FOR THE TIRED, THE POOR, THE LOST
This country's greatest traffic minds have given us more than 1,200 pages of traffic control devices. They had no clue of what they up against in Massachusetts!
THE CHALLENGE I’m only guessing, but my money says that most major rotaries in Massachusetts are festooned with no fewer than 233 signs appended to poles, lamps, guardrails, buildings, trees, sticks, and—often--people. There is a small number of route numbers and street name signs, but they are inconsistent, at best, so as to leave room for the visual clutter of parking restrictions and street cleaning notices, singles meetings and Kiwanis meetings, future and historical sites, and the like. Regular commuters, of course, can ignore every one of them, as they do other visual obstructions such as traffic lights and yield signs. But those unfamiliar with the area will soon realize that even if they COULD get there from here, there is no way they will be able to figure that out in the 47 seconds it takes them to move half way around the intersection, during which time they will have seen more 100 signs. Averaging about .47 seconds per sign, the pathetically dumbfounded motorists choose the roadway of least resistance which gives them odds in the neighborhood of 145:1 of making the right choice—which they don’t. So, they drive for the next three blocks at about 7 mph before making a U-turn and, remarkably, head back to give it one more try… all the while driving like ass.
JWD
in Directions, Rotaries, Roundabouts, Signs, DOT
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GETTING LOST: WHY MAPS, GPS, & YOUR BROTHER-IN-LAW ARE NO HELP
Trial and error gets you where you’re going in Massachusetts. Mostly error. Here’s why.
THE CHALLENGE The Audi in front of me is moving pretty slowly…not cell phone talker slow or flat tire slow or senior citizen slow, but slow enough. Lost slow. Driver and passenger both looking wildly about, left and right, while passenger brandishes a piece of paper…the international language of the lost. Mr. Audi’s predicament is obvious to other drivers but knowing that will not move them to show anything resembling patience, always a sign of motoring weakness, so Mr. Audi draws horns and furious glares from other drivers as they swerve around him. And, of course, knowing his own predicament has triggered Mr. Audi’s innate lost-and-clueless driving modality: strategically claiming as many lanes as possible to enable either a left or right turn if suddenly necessary, hitting the brakes every few dozen feet while looking hopefully (and pointlessly) for a sign, re-reading the directions scribbled on the back of his bank statement envelope. In short, driving like ass.