The Miner is preparing to review the city’s year-old ban on cellphone use while driving.
We here in the newsroom agree that people continue to use cellphones when behind the wheel. We notice this when they weave from lane to lane as if they were drunk, or when they do the California stop before pulling in front of us, or when they force us to honk at them to get going when the light turns green.
We intend to speak to city officials and Kingman Police, but we also want to hear from you.
We’d like to have the following questions answered:
• Do you text and drive with the phone in your hand? If so, why?
• Do you talk on the phone while driving? If so, why?
• Do you watch movies on the phone while driving?
• Do you engage in social media while driving?
• Do you take photos while driving?
• Have you been stopped by police for doing any of these things … ahem ... allegedly doing any of these things?
• Have you seen other drivers doing any of these things?
• If so, how do you react?
• Should the city go to the expense of placing signs in logical locations warning motorists of the ban?
• Finally, do you think the law is a good one, or should it be repealed?
You can email your answers to me at firstname.lastname@example.org. If you have confessions to make, but fear The Man will come down on you, very clearly let us know you don’t want your name used and we will honor your request.
In the meantime, buckle up and drive safe and sober.
After living in a travel trailer for four years and eight months, my wife and I finally came to the conclusion our plan to downsize after the last child left home might have been a bit too extreme.
The first four years were pretty good. We got along well. We respected the fact there was precious little personal space and we respected each other.
But the last eight months were pretty rough. I started to think, “This must be what prison is like.”
We were no longer a married couple. We were cellmates. I’m pretty sure Sheila wanted to shank me a few times and I wanted to let her.
We started looking around for a home and found a cute little brick bungalow. It’s less than 900 square feet with two bedrooms, a small living room, a fairly big kitchen and laundry room – and in back is a workshop and covered parking. All things being equal, it is a mansion.
I didn’t realize how lazy living in a travel trailer could make a person. I walked from the kitchen to the bathroom, a distance of about 20 feet, and had to stop and rest halfway there.
And speaking of the bathroom, the sink, toilet and shower seem like they were made for an NFL lineman. I mean, they are huge. Ditto for the stove and the fridge in the kitchen. And the couch and the loveseat in the living room. I feel like I’m six. Such is perspective.
We have spent a small fortune buying basically a complete house. Two new queen beds. One for us, one for the guest room. We bought them off the showroom floor because we found the idea of sleeping on a stranger’s used mattress pretty disgusting.
Everything else we gladly bought used from people here in Kingman, and man did we get some good deals on quality furniture.
The best thing to come out of this move is that Sheila no longer wants to shank me, and I no longer want to let her.