The new red light at Bee Bayou Road on U.S. Hwy. 80 is officially live.
That’s the theory, anyway. In practice, I’m fairly certain it’s going to be completely invisible to anyone who lives in that area for at least six months. I didn’t come up with that timeline on my own. I learned the “six-month rule” from Randy Self back in the 1990s when I was working for him.
He had just hired me to turn his shopper into a traditional newspaper, and he offered a bit of wisdom that has held up ever since: “The thing about Louisiana is, when you do something new, it takes people about six months to notice it and another six months after that to decide if they like it.”
I see no reason why a big red light planted in the middle of the highway should be any exception.
Now take that delay in awareness and combine it with former Insurance Commissioner Jim Brown’s observation that, statistically speaking, Louisiana drivers rank among the worst in the nation. Then add in the current reality that Meta’s project has brought an influx of truck traffic to the area, including a few truckers who would make Jim Croce gasp in awe. (Google Speedball Tucker. You’re welcome.)
Somewhere out there is a driver who has been rolling down Highway 80 for 20 years without interruption, and one morning he’s going to see a glowing red light where no red light has ever existed, and have about half a second to process a lifetime of habit.
I know, because I did that last week with an entire police car. I saw it. I registered that he was stopping cars on Hwy. 80 to direct traffic. About three seconds before I plowed into him, I realized, “Oh, right. That includes me.”
Fortunately, I’ve got good brakes, so all I got was embarrassed instead of a vehicular homicide conviction.
Now, because this is summer in rural Louisiana, let’s add one more variable to the mix: tractors. Big ones. Slow ones. Wide ones.
Seriously, this should be a question on the Louisiana driver’s test: You come around a curve at 70 miles an hour. In front of you is a tractor blocking both lanes doing 20 miles an hour. Behind you is an 18-wheeler doing 150 miles an hour. You’re on a bridge. What do you do?
Nobody teaches you this stuff. If you’re not used to driving around farm equipment, here are a few quick rules that might keep you from becoming the punchline to a story that starts with that question.
First, if you see a slow-moving vehicle triangle, believe it. That tractor ahead of you is not “about to speed up.” It is doing everything it can already.
Second, give them room. Those implements on the back are wider than they look, and they do not care about your paint job.
Third, pass only when you can clearly see ahead. Rural highways love blind spots and soft curves. Meeting a log truck head-on is a poor way to make the news.
Fourth, don’t assume the driver can see you. Between mirrors, equipment and dust, you may be a ghost riding their blind spot.
And finally, patience. You might lose 30 seconds. You will gain the privilege of arriving in one piece.
Now, back to our brand-new red light.
Mix together a driver who isn’t used to it yet, a trucker on a schedule and a tractor easing onto the highway, and you’ve got a situation that deserves a little extra attention from all of us.
So for the time being, I’ll be adjusting my own travel plans.
If you need me, I’ll be making the scenic run from Rayville to Delhi by way of Mangham.
It may take a little longer, and there’s always a chance I’ll get abducted by aliens somewhere along Highway 854.
I’m not nearly as scared of ghosts and aliens as I am traffic on Hwy. 80.
