To witness the darker side of human nature, go play in traffic

Erin Marsh Thinking

As a student of psychology, it is my goal to be an acute observer of people; to recognize the intricacies and nuances that mark our cognitive processes, behavioral quirks and interpersonal relationships. People are strange and wonderful creatures, and to be able to understand them is, I believe, among the greatest accomplishments one can achieve. So I like to watch people - their mannerisms, their decisions, their reactions, their relational tactics.

Sit at a cafe on the corner of any four-way stop in Ann Arbor, and I think you'll agree with my conclusion: When it comes to getting around this fair hamlet, forget cognitive processes, forget behavioral quirks and forget the intricacies of interpersonal relationships - people are nuts.

They zip around Ann Arbor on rollerblades, bikes and other mini-wheeled contraptions. They drive cars that cost enough to feed a small country. And I'm not sure, but I've heard rumors that they still walk. Getting all of these travelers to work together is a task that defies the greatest peace-making organization. Ring up the U.N. and call out the guard, because we've got a small-scale war here.

A scenario: I've taken 30 minutes out of my latest stress overload to sit on a corner, drink a cup of coffee and watch the cars. This corner is a four-way stop, meaning (for those who need reminding - and it seems there are several) that the first car to reach the intersection has the right of way. It's the basic first-come, first-serve idea. It's also a good idea to stop. That's what the little red hexagonal signs mean.

Anyway, as I watch, the cars are having some problems. It seems the drivers have regressed to the third-grade lunch line, when getting ahead of the person in front of you is the only goal worth pursuing. (And for those who might suggest that the cause of the problem are those "Michigan drivers" who "don't know how to drive," etc., etc., ad nauseum, the out-of-state plates in this scene far outnumbered the in-state ones.) People are honking and swerving and yelling at each other, just because no one understands the concept of a traffic law. Fine.

Then factor in the pedestrians and bikers and rollerbladers and all hell has broken loose. Walkers nonchalantly trot out in front of big hunks of steel and motor that could squash them like bugs. Rollerbladers cut by the walkers, in front of the cars, Tevas in hand. Bikers swerve past the walkers, cutting off the rollerbladers, in front of the cars, in the intersection that Jack built.

Basically, no one in this picture is more than two seconds away from death.

I think all those Mountain Dew commercials and No Fear T-shirts have gone to our heads. Ann Arbor is not a drag strip or a racetrack or even the New Jersey Turnpike. Those places - fine, drive like an animal. But is it too much to ask for some decency on the roads here?

Of course, it is a two-way street (though in Ann Arbor, you can never be sure ... ). All those pedestrians and bikers and bladers have to watch where they're going, too. Here's a hint: When you walk or bike out in front of some car, the driver is going to get really peeved. Here's another hint, back to the third grade again: Don't take up with a bully (i.e., Mr. Car) who's bigger than you. He's gonna win.

Several times a year, I receive letters from full-time residents of Ann Arbor complaining about pedestrians. We don't really think about those full-time residents much, except possibly to acknowledge that they are the folks who pay the astronomical property taxes to compensate for the land upon which our beloved University sits. They already don't like us. So, what, we try to sweeten the relationship by darting out in front of their cars? There's a reason they all hang out on Main Street, away from us - we are a collective pain in the tuchus.

I can sympathize with both sides. There are few things more frustrating than driving to an appointment or work during class-changing time. You could sit at a four-way stop for literally five minutes while students stream in front of your car. Meanwhile, 85 cars that reached other corners of the intersection after you are speeding off in delight. They're halfway to Peoria and I'm still sitting at the stop sign.

Then, of course, there are the drivers who would run over a pedestrian and pause only to flip on the windshield wipers.

Is there a happy medium? Is there hope for peaceful co-existence? I'm not counting on it. All I can do is bring up yet another third-grade didactic: Please - look both ways.

- Erin Marsh can be reached over e-mail at eemarsh@umich.edu

Megan Schimpf will return to

this space next Thursday.

10-16-97