My Dad came from Omaha, Nebraska. And right up to the last trip he took there, he held on to a little bit of what he was raised on… the way the people drive there. I remember my Mom always complained about it. When I got old enough to pay attention to his driving instead of all the different businesses we didn’t have here, I noticed it to. It was a race from one red light to the next. There was no gradual increase in speed, it was stomp on it and GO! Now when he drove here at home, he did a gradual take off from a stop and drove “normally.” I guess he was not doing anything different than all the rest of the Omaha drivers did, he was just going with the flow and following their lead.
Written for Fandango’s February Expressions (FFE) #27