About three years ago, the car I was driving was nearly hit head on by a minivan driven by another mother as she pulled into the Exit Only of our high school. She never saw me, never heard my horn blaring, never once looked my way, even as she drove right past where I’d swerved onto the grass in order to avoid collision. Still engrossed in her cellphone conversation, she continued entering through the exit and on into the school parking lot. Luckily, it was well past 3 p.m., so no student drivers were around for her to pick off on her way to pick up.
Since then, I’ve been a big advocate of hands free and focused driving habits. That’s why today’s recommended read is an article in the New York Times, Driven to Distraction. I think we’ve all experienced many of the situations described. Just yesterday, for example, as we headed to the beach on the interstate, I cautioned my husband to get ahead of the Lincoln Aviator we were following. The driver was erratic and had swerved several times into the adjacent lane, once very nearly colliding with the car next to it. I pointed out that we were close enough behind to be involved if a crash did occur. As we passed the Aviator, I looked over at the driver. Sure enough, she was on a cell phone.
The Times article points out that although we know that fiddling with our devices while driving is dangerous, we’re still very unlikely to stop doing it. Admittedly, I haven’t completely stopped multitasking while driving, though my cell phone/BlackBerry use has become much rarer. Still, 5 seconds is all it takes to change a life. Which is why I do think laws are needed and it’s disappointing that lawmakers are reluctant to pass limitations.
Apparently the cell phone industry has taken a neutral stance. That’s too bad, because it would be a good public relations move to align itself with public safety. It might provide a good value proposition for new voice-guided GPS smartphone applications too. A couple of weeks ago, I came very close to buying AT&T’s new Navigator app for the iPhone, but it came at a price of $9.99 a month. No way! I thought. Get a grip on your pricing, AT&T! Why would I pay for this? How’s it better than the Garmin?
But after this article, perhaps I might rethink the app for safety reasons. $120 a year seems a small price to pay for not having to look down every few minutes at a silent navigator. Interestingly, if you watch the flash for AT&T’s Navigator, you’ll notice that safety isn’t part of the AT&T pitch (having GPS with you all the time, and finding the lowest priced gas and a wifi spot is). And, yikes!, it includes a photo of a woman behind the wheel staring at her phone (though it’s not clear if she’s on the road or parked – but why include such an ambiguous photo?!?!).
I’m also thinking that it might be a good idea to get my teen to sign a driving contract. I found a pretty comprehensive one here that can be modified to individual situations.
Bottom line: Driving without distractions is the way to go.

September 28, 2009
Lost on language
I’m feeling quite lost today, linguistically speaking. For those of us obsessed by words, their origin, and their proper usage, yesterday was a sad day. Our favorite language maven, William Safire, passed away from pancreatic cancer.
I’m not sure I can summon the words that best capture how I feel. So, please, forgive me if my words are dull, without verve, and minus any clever alliterations. Frankly, I’m not up to it. Not that I ever expected to be up to his standards, but I’m disappointed that I can’t coax something more profound from my lexicon to memorialise him.
But I can share a few simple stories.
There was a deliberate pattern to my Saturday morning. Gym, coffee, New York Times (newsprint edition). Real estate section, the Lives column, the Ethicist, On Language, then random articles throughout the Saturday and Sunday editions. In essence, I saved Safire for last, so that I could savor the anticipation of his column.
Once, we were having breakfast at the diner, and I began exclaiming, “oh my god,” over and over. I can’t fault my husband for looking alarmed. But it was only Safire, who had mentioned that my company, Factiva, “sometimes outgoogled Google.” I headed up PR for Factiva at the time and really felt that this time, he’d chosen the wrong word. Always would have been more accurate.
Over the last several weeks, I’ve noticed other bylines adorning On Language, but I was busy with the end of vacation, the beginning of a new season of work and a new year of school. I assumed Safire was on vacation (wasn’t he always off for a couple of weeks in August?). I didn’t know he was battling cancer. The news made me feel guilty. I should’ve known. Friends pay attention, right?
Isn’t it funny that a writer can make you feel this way? I felt as close to him as any friend, a regular in the bar, a colleague at work. I’m convinced I knew him because I read his columns. Of course, I didn’t; but like his friends, I’ll now need to learn how to move on without him. Saturday mornings will be different.
It seems appropriate to let him have the last word, even in this blog post. Here’s the farewell column he wrote when he retired from the NYT Op-Ed pages. Watch out for the traps.
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Filed under Commentary, Life in Context, Public Relations
Tags: language, linguistics, On Language, William Safire