If you fear the roundabout, you'll just muck it up

Pray for me; I’m living in the most provincial community in America, a place where an attempt at something as commonplace as a traffic roundabout instantly creates a population of Grandpa Simpsons, all wringing their hands and decrying this crazy, newfangled monstrosity.

People, get a grip. Roundabouts are common in Europe, and increasingly so in the United States, where many states are replacing old, inefficient and unsafe intersections with traffic circles.

According to the National Cooperative Highway Research Program of the National Academies (as reported in the June 23 USA Today), crashes dropped 35 percent and fatal or serious accident injuries declined by 76 percent after traditional intersections were converted into roundabouts.

The same article quoted traffic engineers as saying roundabouts generally “are safer, quieter, more environmentally friendly and can be cheaper than building intersections with signs or signals.”

But leave it to Athenians to act like this is some new and ridiculous invention hatched in the mountaintop lair of an insane and diabolical civil engineer.

Granted, drivers do need to get accustomed to this different way of negotiating intersections.

I daresay that if a lifelong driver of roundabouts faced a traditional intersection for the first time, he might be a tad intimidated when having to make a left turn across traffic.

As a student driver in Summit County, I remember being terrified at the driver’s ed requirement that everybody try Tallmadge Circle, a roundabout that handled traffic from three or four intersecting roads. But it wasn’t so hard, and after I drove it a few times, Tallmadge Circle became a piece of cake. It was faster and easier by far than the nearby “five-points” intersection at Chapel Hill Mall, where a person could spend a lifetime waiting for the light to turn.

The other roundabout that I’ve had ample experience with is located in Dorval, a suburb of Montreal where my in-laws live. That one, I’ll grant, can be intimidating for a visiting American driver, but that’s only because it’s frequented by hyper-aggressive, speed-demon Quebec drivers. The French language apparently has no equivalent word for “yield.”

After a short learning period, I’m fairly certain, Athens area drivers won’t think twice about using the roundabout, and soon will use it with the same confidence (if not reckless speed) as the Quebeckers in Dorval.

In order for this to happen, however, Athens drivers need to learn what “yield” means. It does not mean “stop,” and it doesn’t even mean “hesitate.” It means “go” unless you don’t see an opening in the traffic. As it stands now, many cars are coming to a full stop because their drivers can see another vehicle entering the roundabout 30 yards away. This namby-pamby driving defeats the purpose of a roundabout, and should be met with prolonged horn blasts, custom hand signals and colorful language.

OK, I’m exaggerating about that – road rage has no place anywhere but NASCAR and Nicholas Cage movies. And admittedly, I learned how to deal with “yield” (which means “ignore”) as a driver in Los Angeles many years ago. When negotiating L.A.’s terrifying freeways, a driver must never show fear or hesitation, or else he or she will be eaten alive. This means when entering a freeway (or traffic circle), one must merge, no matter what.

I’m not recommending this course of action in Athens, which is not L.A. by any stretch of the imagination, but just explaining why fear and hesitation are not positive attributes when it comes to driving a freeway or a roundabout.

If one seeks divine intervention before entering a traffic circle, as suggested in the new “pray for me” bumper-sticker, that person isn’t going to have the requisite confidence that it takes for a roundabout to work properly. So say a prayer for me, I’m stuck behind some nervous Nelly with a “Pray for Me… Athens Roundabout” bumper-sticker.