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After driving 2,000...

After driving 2,000 miles from the top to the bottom of America last week, I am in a state of shock. Holidaying in Orlando, Los Angeles and the other unreal bits of the USA is one thing. But a drive along the Michigan/Ohio Rust Belt to the Deep South and beyond opens up a different America ò€“ one Iò€™m entirely not comfortable with.



Whether we’re...

Whether we’re car drivers, bikers or bus and coach users, we each have our corners to fight and are all entitled to our say. And the same is true of truck operators. As with the rest of us, they pay a high price to put their vehicles on the road and keep them running. And judging by the amount of complaints I have heard over the years from the lorry boys and girls – about everything from low profit margins to unfair competition created by foreign-registered vehicles – I always thought they were genuinely hard-up.


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The eagerly anticipated...

The eagerly anticipated Toyota Corolla replacement, the Auris, has gone on sale - in Japan.

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He"s well aware that...

He"s well aware that if he doesn"t stop getting nicked for speeding, he could soon face a driving ban which would rob him of his much loved Italian sports car. It"s put to him by a marvellously mischievous Jeremy Clarkson on TV that because he"s got such a shameful driving record, he simply can"t afford to receive any more endorsements and he might therefore like to consider blaming his wife for his driving-related crimes by conveniently "shovelling" some points on to her currently clean licence.

What"s it called when somebody attempts to take the heat off himself by getting somebody else to take the rap for him? Conspiracy, perjury, perverting the course of justice? I"m never quite sure. After a painful and childish verbal performance like this, no wonder he predicts that his colleagues will be "behind their sofas with their hands over their ears" as they listen to him.

But the self-inflicted humiliation continues. He then pokes fun at somebody else for "wrecking" a car, and climbs behind the wheel himself to show what he"s made of on a race track. Not only does he crash, but he arrives at the scene of the accident of his own making too fast, backwards and out of control. The car is inevitably damaged. He finds it all hilarious and laughs loudly when told that the vehicle is not well.

He doesn"t seem to care about the expensive damage he"s caused, as it"s not his car. And instead of acknowledging his pathetic driving, he puts the blame on the vehicle, claiming "the gearbox is not good". By now his silly grin is turning into a defiant "up-yours" smirk. He has become extremely combative. And he has resorted to swearing.

So who am I talking about? Some anarchic, more-money-than-sense í‚á£100,000-a-week footballer who"s paid to kick, not think? A hard-drinking, hell-raising rock star or Hollywood actor, perhaps? Or maybe you"ve already decided that it"s only a thick-as-two-planks kid still with much to learn and a lot of growing up to do who could behave in such a way? Wrong, wrong, wrong. The man in question is a sad, 50-something-year-old who imaginatively lists "walking the dog" as one of his main recreational activities.

His name is Stephen Ladyman. You and I pay his considerable wages because he"s employed at The House of Commons, London SW1A OAA as Minister for Road Safety in Her Majesty"s Labour Government. Just thought you should know.




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