Jersey Mike

So it’s been almost four weeks since I procured my new scooter and, while I’m still not quite comfortable taking many long trips on it, it has become my primary mode of transportation within the city and the close-lying outskirts.

I’ve been driving it every day (minus the rain days) and have traversed most of the main roads and thoroughfares in the area- except for the highways- this puppy’ll go sixty; but I don’t have big enough balls to compete with the tractor-trailers cooking by at seventy miles per hour.

Along with having an absolute blast doing pedestrian things like running to the store for a loaf of bread or pack of smokes, getting to and from a few gigs at The Forum and Whitaker and back and forth to the Brewery, I must admit that I’ve learned a few things about drivers in general, the human race and the pothole and frost-heave ridden roads of Downtown Harrisburg.

And here, in no particular order, they are:

1. People who drive while talking on cellphones are much more oblivious to the world around them. And I say this as a driving-while-talking guy, myself.

There have been no fewer than a dozen times which I’ve nearly become road-hamburger because of some self-absorbed idiot whose line of vision is reduced dramatically by having that electronic device up to their ear.Up until now, I always considered myself a good driving-multi-tasker.

But when I’m behind the wheel of a large automobile now, I’m sure that I’ll be a helluva lot more conscious of my surroundings. I can’t tell you how frustrating and unnerving it is to be cruising down Front Street, thoroughly enjoying the wind in my receding-hair with the sun beating down on my arms while some bimbo in an SUV with two TV’s on the back seat headrests and a car full of kids is yapping on her Motorola Razor decides to change lanes without signaling or even glancing to her left…when if she did, she would have seen me scooting along next to her.

2. I’m going to save a heck of a lot of dough this summer. So far, I’ve driven about two hundred fifty miles and have spent twenty dollars on gas. It’s a two gallon tank and I must be getting about fifty-five or so miles per gallon. Even just puttering around town in my old Saab required no less than thirty dollars per week in the tank. What with all of the idling and stop-and-go traffic, gasoline burns mighty fast. But a fill up hurts a lot less on a two gallon tank of a 150CC scooter.
3. Scooters get parking tickets, too. Seemingly more frequently than automobiles.

Remember in my first post when I predicted that I’d get a lot less parking tickets? Yeah, well…I was wrong. I wonder if they can boot a scooter? Oh well, the money I saved on gas for the past three weeks shall go back to the City Coffers.

4. There’s no such thing as “road rage” on a scooter. It just doesn’t work.

Remember the lady in the SUV who swerved into my lane on the phone? Had I been in a car when that happened, I likely would have engaged my human-alert-device (horn) while raising my voice in her direction (yelling) and dispelling a barrage of unpleasantly offensive words from the English lexicon (swearing). But on a scooter, all I can do is shake my head and offer a more-annoying-than-alerting “meep, meep”. (I wonder if they sell air-horns that are mountable on a scooter?)

5. Scooter drivers are apparently required to be social and conversational. Stoplights are the new barstool at the local tavern for me, these days. And the conversation is mostly inquisitive about the economical benefits I referenced in “Things I’ve Learned Number Two”-

6. Harrisburg roads have many, many, MANY potholes. Clunkuhduh, clunkuhduh, clunkuhduh…I must be on Reily street heading towards Third now..Clunk-clunk…clunk-clunk…oh, this feels like Sixth Street.Sure, sure…it’s the end of the winter and potholes abound nearly everywhere we go…but damn are there a lot of potholes on our streets. One would only notice the really big ones in a car, but nearly every bump and crevice on the street is felt on two tiny wheels and a Matchbox-Car-Like-Chassis. Oh well, dems the brakes, I guess.

7. And finally, Central PA has a scooter club that I’ll soon be joining. The Three Mile Island Scooter Club meets every Wednesday in the spring, summer and fall months at a coffee shop in Camp Hill. And I can’t wait for the meltdown!

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