jester journals

Weird Ramblings from a Warped Mind

The Fraud… 8-13-2014

I travel in my line of work. And over the past few years I have driven, literally, hundreds of thousands of miles. And in my travels, I have seen things. Some I have posted about… others I haven’t.

But the time has come to expose what I consider the largest fraud to EVER be perpetuated on the American public.

Yes, I am talking about… road construction/repair zones.

It never fails. If I’m driving 8 miles to town or 8,000 miles across country, I’ll run into a construction zone.

There is always the guy with my all-time favorite job… holding the Stop/Slow sign. What POWER he wields. He can start and stop traffic with the flip of his sign. He can make you happy… or angry. He can allow you to be the last car to go through… or the first car to wait. It’s all up to him.

And it never fails. If I’m in a hurry… running late… or have to use the bathroom, I’m always… ALWAYS… the first car to wait.

And sometimes… MANY times… there is no one there in these “work” zones. Just the orange cone. Or the traffic barrel. My favorite is the the lone blinky light someone has hit and knocked over into the grass… where it continues to blink. And serves no purpose.

But my deep-down, burning desire is to ask why. And you know you want to know as well.

Why do they close 27 miles of the road to work on one section that is 8 feet square? And WHY does it take 17 folks to stand in the “work zone” to watch ONE guy with a shovel? But they all wear an orange vests and hardhat, so they HAVE to be important.

And then there are all those vehicles strategically parked around. Most don’t move and have grass growing up around them. Except for the big flattener… it’s always driving around making everything flat. I bet they take turns on it. Or maybe it’s a reward for doing a good job.

“Hey… Joe. Great job yesterday. You get to drive the flattener today.”


With the length of time the “projects” take, I think most of the folks in the work zones are just actors. They hire them to stand around to make us THINK our tax dollars are being spent wisely. And all those machines are really props.

Except the flattener…

The acting production company starts out by merging nine lanes into one… which backs traffic up to Peoria. And as you’re merging over, you have to stay alert for that one DorkHead in a sports car who tries to pass everyone and merge in at the front of the line.

Then… after you’ve merged over, down to the one single lane, you drive 10mph… now 12mph… now 72mph… Oh wait… back to 5mph… for 34 miles. Just passing orange cones… traffic barrels… no workers… a random traffic light blinking in the grass where it landed… more cones…. still no workers.

And finally… FINALLY… a person. Oh… but it isn’t a worker. It’s a driver who’s car has over-heated.

More cones. More barrels. And then… here we are. We’re at the end. The road opens back up to all nine lanes. Nothing. No workers. No equipment. Just press on.

And JUST so you know they have a sense of humor…


And the biggest fallacy? The greatest lie? The WHOPPER of them all??

The sign that reads… “End Construction.”

Because it never ends. NEVER!! It just…

Excuse me? What was that?

My meds?


Sorry. I’ll continue this later. If I don’t go take m meds right now I won’t get my pudding cup. And they will put me in that room with the soft walls… and the soft floor… in that jacket where I hug myself REAL tightly.


If I win the lottery, I’m gonna buy one of those flattener things.