Why the speed trap claptrap?

Here’s a tricky question to answer – Why are speed cameras painted bright yellow?

I’ve ruled out “hiding place for canaries” already, by the way.

On my morning tootle along the A591 recently, I was just becoming aware of a van parked in the lay-by some way ahead when the chap in front of me braked hard down to 28mph, having identified it as one of the speed detector variety by it’s hi-vis markings.

I had to do the same to avoid going in to the back of him. What multiplied my irritation was that we were in a 60mph zone at the time. I’m also frequently irked by berks dropping to just under 30mph for the camera at Ings... which is in a 40mph zone.

Here’s a bit of starling news for these motoring morons – not all speed cameras are set to go off at 30mph. They are, surprisingly enough, tied to the speed limit area within which they languish.

And it’s not like you ought to get caught by surprise by one, either. Painted in a shade of yellow so bright you can get a tan from half a mile away, it really shouldn’t be a problem to be at the correct speed, and not jeopardise everyone else’s day by slamming the brakes on.

You could, of course, pay attention to what the speed limit is for that particular stretch of road, or brush up on your Highway Code if you can’t figure it out without the aid of a sign every couple of yards.

It’s well established that some drivers simply slow down enough to pass the cameras un-flashed, then accelerate off afterwards.

Giving them advanced warning and painting stuff a colour so bright you can see it with your eyes shut seems somewhat pointless, if the objective is to make us drive within the limit all the time, rather than just the 100 yards up the camera.

Wouldn’t it make more sense to disguise them? If you didn’t know where they were, aren’t you more likely to drive within the speed limit all the time, and not just when you see yellow?

It’s important to separate the purpose of the cameras as an aid to reducing deaths and serious injuries on our roads, from the argument that they’re just there to make money for the police and Local Authorities. Perhaps fines could be minimal, but the points on your licence the true penalty.

Contrary to what some drivers seem to think, the speed limit isn’t an optional thing, based on your peculiar belief that it doesn’t mean you, because you’re a modern-day driving legend, with the athletic skills and lightning quick reactions of Lewis Hamilton.

Despite the multi-million pound contract, excessive bling and World Championship trophies, Lewis is involved in several accidents a year, often because he’s going too fast.

Still, if there’s one thing guaranteed to brighten my morning, it’s seeing someone actually get flashed by a super high-visibility, heavily-signposted, speed camera.

Flash! Ah-ahh...

This post first appeared as my "Thank grumpy it's Friday" column, in The North West Evening Mail, on the 24th of April 2015. You can view the version used by the paper on their website here.

This one went straight into their archive section again, uncredited, so it didn't get any comments - I suspect it would have been likely to garner some, had it been more visible, as it is a pretty emotive subject.

Apologies for the delay in posting - I've just got back from a lovely week away in Grassington in the Yorkshire Dales. True to our usual skill in timing, we were regularly told about how lovely and warm it had been last week, and tried to stay sanguine about the somewhat unseasonal snow, hailstorms and daytime temperatures cold enough to trigger the icy surfaces alarm in the car.

Never mind - it was relaxing, and I've consumed cappuccinos in sufficient quantity to have filled an sizable swimming pool, plus had the best bacon and egg roll ever. What more does an unshaven man clothed in inappropriately light garments need?

(After a week of random Amazon streaming of AutoRip albums, I'm back on the CD singles - currently Jean Michel Jarre's Oxygene 8.)

Making an exhibition of yourself

Now and again, it’s good to reaffirm that you’re a (relatively) normal human being. One excellent way of doing this is to go to a business exhibition. Despite what you might have surmised from reading my previous columns, I am employable, and even capable of acting like a regular person most of the time, even joining in the Monday morning conversation about the weather over the weekend, and why (insert name of footyballs manager here) should be fired immediately. The mug! True, there are times, often involving a caffeine deficiency, where it is like having the distilled essence of ten moody teenagers in the room, but I try and get that out of the way when people I genuinely like aren’t around to see it. As part of my ongoing experiment with what others call ‘working’, my ‘job’ involves me occasionally needing to go and see what some of my colleagues get up to outside the office, and what our competitors do to try and make sure that they do whatever my colleagues do better than ...

The Schaf Shuffle

The weather – source of endless fascination, conversation, irritation and (just recently) excess irrigation. And a fidgety weather presenter on the BBC... I’m endlessly fascinated with the weather, and will confess to making sure I catch the BBC’s updates whenever possible. Not the local ones, where half the presenters look like they got dressed in the dark, or ITV, where they seem to know very little about actual weather, but the national forecasts. Delivered by actual Met Office personnel, their job entails a tricky mix of waving your hands about a bit, explaining about warm fronts without smirking, and trying not to look too pleased whilst mentioning gales force winds and torrential rain. Or stand in front of Cornwall. Each has their own presenting style, but there is one who intrigues me above all the others. Step forward, Tomasz Schafernaker, the 37 year old man from the Met who breezed onto our screens in 2001, as the youngest male ever to point out that it was going to r...

RIP Jenwis Hamilbutton

We are gathered here in this... (looks round a bit) um... blog, to mourn the passing of Jenwis Hamilbutton. His life may have been short and largely irrelevant, but he touched the lives of so many people that... sorry? Oh. Apparently that was someone else... Jenwis Hamilbutton rose briefly to fame on twitter during 2010, when he was retweeted by BBC F1 presenter Jake Humphrey, having criticised his shirt. A similarly unspectacular claim to fame occurred when a tweet he crafted at 1am on a windy night appeared in F1 Racing magazine. An amalgam of bits of Formula 1 drivers Lewis Hamilton and Jenson Button (mostly the hopeless bits), he came into existence via 3 pints of cider, a Creme Egg and the Electric Light Orchestra’s mournful 1986 farewell album “Balance Of Power”, played loudly over headphones. In his short existence, he was followed on twitter by Paul Hardcastle of “19” fame, and a bunch of slightly odd but jolly nice people, whom he was never entirely sure actually exist...

grumpyf1

Search This Blog