Excuses
Excuses

A cold, overcast Saturday morning, a meeting room in drab office block situated on a small windswept business park on the outskirts of Sheffield, sixteen strangers brought together by a common bond.

No eye contact, no introductions, and no breezy chit chat, with machine vended drinks in hand, I and the other strangers take our places. Silently, with precision we sit, metal framed chairs, arranged around the “U” shape of tables that once occupied, signify that a “meeting” is now underway. We write our first names on fold up cards and place them in front of us, the silence continues, interrupted only by the nervous coughing, the scratching of marker pen on cardboard and the placing of “the code” in front of us.

The leader enters the room; he tells us that we are here because we volunteered, because we chose to go down this path that we rejected the alternatives and that being here this morning was our choice. He tells us that he is here to save lives, our lives, the lives of our loved ones, our friends and the lives of people we will never meet; never meet until and unless that fateful day arrives at our door.

The leader tells us that not one of us believes it will “be me”, that we think it will always be “someone else”. He tells us that we think that when it happens, (and it will happen), that we will quickly scan the words telling of it in a newspaper, fleetingly glance at the screen as it is reported on the TV, that we will say “shame” and move on to the next moment in our lives.

The leader tells us that “it will happen” and that there is a very high probability that for at least one of us, “we” will be the one it happens to and that when it happens (and it will happen), we won’t “move on”; we will stay “frozen in a moment” for ever.

Then, the leader tells us we are going to play a game and the game is called “Excuses”.

The strangers relax, some more than others, a brief smile flickers across the faces of the more confident strangers, some lean forward in their chairs, people like games.

“My wife/husband/partner has been taken to hospital”, “I am late for a flight to an important overseas business meeting”, “I need to go to the toilet”, the “Excuses” fly through the air, they come quicker than the leader can write them on the flipchart, the strangers relax, strangers no more, the game has removed the barriers, has broken down the wall of silence, the strangers know that “Excuses” is just a game, they’re sure it wont be them, it will be someone else, they don’t believe the leader, they’re sure he is wrong, it won’t be them “frozen in a moment”, it will be someone else, it won’t be them, it can’t be them, surely.

The break, the coffee machine, the quickly smoked cigarettes pressed against the wall trying to escape the cold spray of the mid morning drizzle, the smiles, the exchange of stories, the routes travelled to come to the meeting, the jobs, the holiday plans, the places we live in, a frantic search for common bonds, the reassurance that we are “normal”, we are not one of the people the leader tells us we might be, we know he is wrong, we know that he doesn’t need to “save” us.

The strangers, return to the room, more relaxed, more confident, smiles exchanged, the low hum drum of idle banter drifts around the room, plans for the weekend, common places and people known, machined vended coffee sipped and machine vended confectionary consumed,

The code, the leader tests us. Do we know the code? Do we know how to keep ourselves alive and free from harm? Do we know how to protect those around us? Do we know the code? The idle banter falls away, the bond of the strangers is stretched, the confidence drifts, the confidence sweeps away following the cold morning drizzle as it catches the cold wind outside the window, maybe one of us could be the one it happens to.

The Woman: the leader brings the woman in to the room, she looks sad, not confident, not like the bonded group of strangers relaxed with our machine vended coffee and machine vended confectionary, not talking of common places and people known, not thinking about the weekend, she stands before us and tells us that her child was killed, that it was an “accident”, that no-one was to blame, that these things happen, the woman is frozen in a moment in time, she is frozen in the moment she was told her child has been killed in a “traffic accident”

The leader ask us which of the “Excuses” we would like to offer her in mitigation, which did we think best suited her needs, which did we think was a reasonable “Excuse”, which would we like to “trade” for the life of a child? Would “I need to go the toilet” suffice?

What I learnt on that cold, overcast Saturday morning, in that meeting room in a drab office block situated on a small windswept business park on the outskirts of Sheffield, with those sixteen strangers brought together by a common bond was this;

That if you are caught breaking the speed limit, 60 mph in a 50mph zone, it’s your fault, not the fault of the person who designated the speed limit for the area.

That 2000 people were killed in road traffic incidents in the UK last year and that the vast majority of them were caused by people breaking the speed limit and that a lot of those 2000 were the people driving above the speed limit.

2000 people killed, means six people every day, that means untold misery for families, friends loved ones and that 60 people have been killed since I spent my Saturday morning with the “strangers”.

That if you run into a seven year old child whilst driving your car at 20mph, the child has an 80% chance of survival, if you run into the same child at 40mph, the survival rate is 20%.

That 80% of all fatal road traffic incidents occur within five miles of the victim’s home, that most of the people killed are killed by people just like the “strangers” and that the “strangers” are people just like me.

That “volunteering” to go on a “speed awareness” course as an “alternative” to three points on your license is a brilliant initiative, because three points would not have changed my attitude to speed, (and the potential grief it harbours), but four hours on this course with the strangers did.

That since I spent my four hours with the strangers ten days ago, I have driven over 2000 miles, I have not broken the speed limit once, that the “average” added time to my 200 mile Yorkshire to London trip has been a mere 10 minutes (over a three and a half hour journey).

That I think this course should be mandatory as part of the driving test.

That there is no such thing as a traffic “accident”; someone is always responsible for choices that lead to the occurrence and that makes it an “incident” not an “accident”.

That the “Woman” the leader brought to the meeting was an actress and that I never want to meet the real woman and never want to play the “Excuses” game for real.

And finally, that after thirty three years of holding a driving licence and clocking up an average of thirty thousand miles a year, I have been tremendously lucky not to have killed someone, injured someone, done either of those things to myself and if the day arrives that such a thing should happen, I would rather someone else was rolling out their “Excuses” and that it wasn’t me.

Very good that.

You won't hear me complaining about speed cameras, not recently anyway.

I live at the bottom of a hill, at the top of the hill is a primary school, if I had a pound for every driver I've seen driving at more than 30mph on this hill then I wouldn't live here, I'd live in Scarcroft with the footballers.

Drivers speeding up and down this hill, past a primary school with cars parked on both sides of the road, I even saw one coming towards me on the wrong side of the road on yesterday trying to clean the windscreen (it was icy) - its only a matter of time before someones kid gets killed on this hill.

Where did the "2000" numbers come from? They and the points related to them differ to the gov's own (Google TLR323)

It's awful that gov sponsored courses can so blatantly lie. Just kills your trust.

Not wanting to start another war of words :
My wife went on a speed awareness course after been caught doing 44 in a 40 zone. One of the others on the course was apparently very aggresive to the instructor and half of the rest were dozing,texting and doodling. They are a good idea, but there needs to be monitoring or some form of test to ensure people actually take in why they are there.

Well thats certainly put me off from ever drinking machine vended coffee again.

Could've sworn I heard on the radio a few months ago that the police guidelines are 10% plus 2mph over the speed limit, so your wife shouldn't have been stopped doing 44, she should only have been stopped if she was doing 46. I could be wrong though.

There's no excuse getting 'done' for speeding, parking, bald tyres, defective lights, no insurance, tax or MOT etc etc etc

It's indictive of the society we live in that there are many law abiding citizens who can live their lives without breaking any rules or laws, and conversely there are plenty of s out there who get caught and whinge it's not their fault!!!

My current little gripe is with morons who drive about with 1 headlight (or even both!!!) broken!!!!

Not saying I necessarily disagree with you but its' indicative of our society that we are so burdened with legislation that the majority or law abiding rule adhering citizens can so easily and so trivially be criminalized by the government they elect.

Some stuff.

Gurmble grumble.

Jesus christ, its an open invitation for the gullible to bring this site to its knees, what are you doing man ????!!!!

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! Imagine all our s careering all over the show, speeding with gay abandon. Imagine how quiet it'll be when they're all banned.

Surely, once banned and out of work and stuck at home all day, they'll have nothing to do but write blogs and post on here

The vast majority or actively and gainfully employed people write blogs and post on here regularly? There must be less actively and gainfully employed people than I thought.

Don't argue semantics with me Richie. you know full well what I mean.