Driving Me Crazy

Driving anywhere in the T.C. area in the summertime is insane. It's a small city with a population of about 15,000 that gets (according to some) something like 500,000 visitors during the Cherry Festival alone!

Let's just take a moment to reflect upon how traffic patterns are affected by adding that many people to a town of 15,000.

Yes. Are you feeling my pain now?

Sure, the rest of the summer isn't quite so horrid traffic-wise as that, but all the locals know that between Memorial Day and Labor Day driving to T.C. or anywhere near T.C. will cause you headaches and nightmares.

So this is me: driving along in my rickety old get-out-of-debt car, with four kids in the back, all the windows down 'cause there's no air conditioning, wind whipping hair in everyone's faces, and brakes that make the entire vehicle shake like a leaf whenever they're employed.

In T.C. traffic.

I am trying-not-to-be-but-already-am-before-I-left-the-driveway ANNOYED.

And then it happens.

I drive past The Big Sign.

The sign is a new thing, just added this year. It's right off the side of the road, blocking the view of a business or two, big as a billboard, and says ONE THING:

"URHOUZZ"

It's an 'Indoor & Outdoor Design' services and warehouse. Lovely stuff.

"Did you hear that?", I yelled back to the kids over the noise.

"Hear what?", they replied.

"That...VOICE...it was sounding like....", and my voice trailed off as I realized:

It wasn't an audible voice, it was...

IN MY HEAD!

That's right, in my HEAD, I was hearing this:

"Err-Howzz" said in my best, deep voice, Governator Himself impersonation.

Whatever "normal" way to say that name is, I CAN'T DO IT!! Every. Stinkin'. Single. Time. I pass that billboard (which is so RIGHT THERE in your face it's impossible not to see) I hear the (former) Governator IN MY HEAD.

Err-Howzz.

Err-Howzz.

*sniff*

**sigh**

I've never seen the Terminator movies and I don't ever plan to, but apparently during those times I've watched one of his other movies... er, my husband watched, I mainly sat next to him with my face buried in a shoulder...I LISTENED. So apparently I've LISTENED enough to his voice to get to LISTEN to it making commentary in my own head.

Great.

And who does this, anyway?

What marketing expert decided that this idiotic nod to the txtme generation was a good idea?!

Not only do they not know how to spell or know when to use 'your' vs. 'you're' (vs. UR?), they DON'T KNOW that they don't know these things.

Don't encourage them!!!

Makes me want to go lay the smack down on someone. It'd go like this:

"What on earth were you THINKING?! The sign is obnoxious and not only should you fire the marketing expert or whomever sold this idea to you, you should totally move the sign so the business next to you can see the road again! Lovely store, by the way. Great stuff. Oh! My. Look at that price tag. Gotta go!"

We contiued on our way, stopped at the stores we needed to stop at....

"Don't touch anything!"

"Stop bugging your sister!"

"Please don't hide in the racks, I can't SEE you!"

"Why doesn't this store have CARTS?!"

And then slowly, haltingly, made our way back through traffic towards home.

"Did you hear that?", I yelled back to the kids over the noise.

"Hear what?", they replied.

Oh. Right. Just passing by the sign again.

"Err-Howzzzz", the (former) Govovernator said in my head.

Grrr...

I looked over at the broken compass screwed to the dash of my car, bobbing up and down like a bobble-head every time I pressed down on the brakes to avoid the fudgie doing 25 on a 55 road.

A girl can only take so much.

I reached over, reefed the screw out, and threw the compass out the window.

Okay, maybe I didn't throw it out the window. But I sure thought about it!




* disclaimer: As far as I know, the Terminator is not affiliated in any way with URHOUZZ or any of its furniture makers, shop owners, design team, or *ahem* marketing people.

** another disclaimer: I have received nothing from URHOUZZ for this *cough* honest review of their sign.