Confessions of a Front Seat Driver

Hyacinth Confessions of a Front Seat DriverBy Mark Simpson

Some people are more pro­act­ive pas­sen­gers than oth­ers. Hyacinth Bucket in the clas­sic sit-com Keeping Up Appearances takes what we might call a ‘hands on’ approach to being driven.

Mind the sheep, dear!’

They’re in the FIELD!’

Richard, I don’t appre­ci­ate your tone.’

Minding the sheep.’

We all laugh at the snob­bish battle axe’s incess­ant and insist­ent back­seat driv­ing. Not least because it is meant to be hor­ribly sym­bolic of her mar­riage to Richard. Richard may sit in the driver’s seat, but it’s def­in­itely the pas­sen­ger who does the driv­ing. In a nice big hat.

Every driver hates a back­seat driver. Until you’re a pas­sen­ger your­self. According to a 2011 sur­vey, 92% of motor­ists admit to being back­seat drivers themselves.

This how­ever didn’t stop 51% of them get­ting angry behind the wheel as a res­ult of advice from pas­sen­gers, or the same num­ber claim­ing it was the biggest dis­trac­tion for drivers. While 14% even claimed they were involved in an acci­dent or near miss as a res­ult of being told to blow their horn in a more refined way, dear, or some such.

The offi­cial advice from car safety experts is not to dis­tract or frus­trate the driver with back­seat driv­ing. They say it could be dan­ger­ous – both to your safety and to your rela­tion­ships: part­ners are ranked by motor­ists as the worst back seat drivers. I sup­pose no one likes being cri­ti­cised by their part­ner, par­tic­u­larly if being mar­ried to them has made you won­der if weeks in trac­tion in the General Hospital might be a nice break.

But what pre­cisely is a back seat driver though? According to Wikipedia, it is ‘a pas­sen­ger who is not con­trolling the vehicle but who excess­ively com­ments on the driver’s actions and decisions in an attempt to con­trol the vehicle.’

Which is good to know, because it con­firms what I have always known: I’m not a back­seat driver.

You see, I never excess­ively com­ment. There are so many things I could say, but I stoic­ally bite my lip instead. Granted, there are still plenty of things that I do say, but they are always kept to the abso­lute min­imum and always thought­fully designed to impart only the most per­tin­ent pearls of my pre­cious driv­ing wis­dom to the per­son for­tu­nate enough to find them­selves at the wheel in my presence.

Besides, I never sit in the back. I prefer to sit up front, where I can see much more clearly what mis­takes the driver is mak­ing, such as driv­ing too close to the vehicle in front – and then too far away – and what haz­ards he or she has failed to anti­cip­ate, such as the decept­ively harm­less pen­sioner stood at the bus stop, lean­ing on a walk­ing stick, who could sud­denly and with no warn­ing what­so­ever run into the road. (And by the way, it needs to be men­tioned that sheep in fields can jump hedges.)

Sitting up front also means you can more eas­ily com­mu­nic­ate with the driver, some­times using non-verbal sig­nals, such as sharp intakes of breath, grabbing arm-rests or anxiously check­ing and re-checking the seat belt. Even though I’m not actu­ally Catholic, I usu­ally carry Rosary beads with me as I find count­ing them loudly and cross­ing myself can be quite salutary.

And of course, if all else fails, there’s always stamp­ing on an ima­gin­ary brake pedal with a look of wide-eyed abject ter­ror on your sheet-white face.

I also do my best to help the driver by lean­ing for­wards at junc­tions and shout­ing ‘YOURE ALL RIGHT THIS SIDE!’. Or ‘YOU CAN GET A BUS THROUGH THERE MATE!’ When I’m not fid­dling with the ste­reo and the air-con con­trols. I invari­ably find that people haven’t set these at their optimum levels – and are tuned in to the wrong radio sta­tions. I don’t expect any thanks for these little con­sid­er­a­tions. Which is just as well as none ever comes.

OK, so per­haps I’m just ever so slightly con­trolling. But hon­estly, have you seen the way other people drive? It’s not my fault that I’m a bet­ter driver than them and it would be just plain dis­hon­est of me to pre­tend oth­er­wise. Not to men­tion selfish – how are they going to get bet­ter if I don’t tell them they should use the gears to brake more?

You wouldn’t believe how down­right ungrate­ful and rude people can be some­times. Unfortunately, not all drivers are as open to advice as Hyacinth’s hus­band. I’ve been yelled at just for sug­gest­ing that their screen wash isn’t as effect­ive as the brand I use. And that their wiper blades need replacing.

But when that hap­pens I just tell them that they shouldn’t talk to pas­sen­gers and should con­cen­trate on the road. And adjust my hat.

The Sexiest Man Alive is a Super Spornosexual With Big Bis & Huge Hammer

chris hemsworth shirtless beach thor The Sexiest Man Alive is a Super Spornosexual With Big Bis & Huge Hammer

People Mag have crowned the Australian actor Chris Hemsworth as this year’s ‘Sexiest Man Alive’.

Hemsworth was an early — and eye-poppingly rapid — adop­ter of sporno­sexu­al­ity. If the mont­age below grabbed from the inter­web is to be believed, Chris made the trans­form­a­tion from svelte soap opera met­ro­sexual to hench Hollywood sporno­sexual in just a year.

The cre­at­ine he was tak­ing must have had, er, super powers.

chrisHBeforeAfter The Sexiest Man Alive is a Super Spornosexual With Big Bis & Huge Hammer