Color Commentary
Thursday, March 18, 2010
a story by w. lederer (originally written 2009-04-19)
I suppose that if you grow up in Chicago, you might have a different view of traffic and drivers than, say, a simple country boy. There seems to be a lot of conversation—both spoken and gesticulated—behind the glass. My wife grew up in Chicago, and knows quite well how to deal with the drivers here..
If I am driving, she is very helpful with the patterns of traffic, navigational directions, and the necessary conversations with other drivers. There is some talk that is just commentary, though, and I like to think of it as Color Commentary. Nobody does it better.
During a drive down the tollway to a wedding reception, I conceived of a way to help with this problem. Over the next few months, I designed and built a device that was aimed at solving this problem. I was able to do this in relative secret, as I work at home and she works out of the house. My basement resembles a lab of an absent minded professor anyway, and deducing the function or non-function of any particular pile would take concerted investigation by anyone, sometimes including me.
Since my vehicle is a truck, she occasionally uses that if she is getting some landscape material for the home. One day not that long ago, she needed to get a couple of trees from halfway down the state, so I had my opportunity to install the contraption in car.
Then the other day we had a chance to see this thing in operation. I had secretly recorded some of her vocabulary and used select phrases to engage the device. At a point in the ever-present construction zones on the tollway, the chance presented itself. A slow driver edged over in front of us. My wife reacted with a loud voice and a hand motion, saying "Whaddayadoin?". I noticed out of the corner of my eye the new little violet light on the dashboard came on, meaning the system was engaged.
"You can't see the signs ahead of time? Sheesh" were the next words out of her mouth. Approximately. But when the little light was on, her voice was amplified by 1000 watts and beamed front and back with specially designed speakers. Drivers all around us whipped their heads in our direction. The car behind us slowed. The offending car in front slowed to a crawl and we dogded around it to the left. "What is your problem".
She noticed that the drivers were looking our way. The car we just passed slowed to a stop and was staring at us in fright. "Hon, what is happening?" said her highly amplified voice. You could hear it echoing off the concrete wall to our right. I said "Well, I built you this surprise and installed it in the car." She asked, quieting her voice, "What does it do".
I whispered "Once it turns on, your voice is highly amplified for all to hear. It helps get your message through to the other drivers". "Oh" was all she could say. I continued "it turns itself on when you say the phrase 'Whaddayadoin'".
"Oh". Then she smiles.
She then yells "Pick up the pace. You've never seen rain before?". A young driver straddles two lanes. "How did you get a license? Does your mother know you have her car?".
A look of terror as we pass. A slow-moving car is in the very left lane. She says "A Buick! I knew it. So whaddayou, a hundred years old? Can't be in that lane"
This goes on for a while. Then she asks when we reach a clear spot in the traffic, which has mysteriously appeared, "How do I know that it is on?"
"See that little violet light there next to the oil light? When that is on, the system is on."
"Oh". Then after a few more miles: "How do I turn it off?"
I say "Say 'I am sorry'".
"Look, I think this is marvelous and I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I might need to turn it off if I am thinking out loud. You don't need to be so sensitive."
I say "No, the phrase 'I am sorry', spoken loudly, will turn off the system."