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When I'm reversing, my car has parking aids which beep inside the car, and get faster as I get closer to a potential hazard. They stop me from damaging my car.
However, once I've parked up and walked away, there is nothing to stop someone without a parking aid from reversing into my car an inflicting
similar damage (apart from common sense and driving skill, both of which are at a premium where I live).
What if, once my car is parked, the parking sensors continue to work but instead of beeping inside the car, they toot the horn in a similar way, warning drivers of older cars if they get too close to mine.
[link]
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Damn clever. Unless, like some early primitive car alarms, they go off for no reason at all hours. |
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Nice idea, but the alarms would be going off all
the time. |
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On my car at least, the parking radar starts
beeping when there's maybe a two yards of space,
and reaches a continuous beep when the space
narrows to maybe 18 inches. |
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Most parking involves getting well within "beeping
distance" of the other cars. If you set the alarm
to beep only when the other car was really
unusually close, I think it might be too late to
prevent the majority of parking accidents, which
happen when the other driver has forgotten to
check one direction. |
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What if you're parallel-parked, with a decent separation from the other car that also has this feature, and a pedestrian walks through the gap ? |
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What if this happens at night, and both cars bip their horns, waking the whole street ? |
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//and a pedestrian walks through the gap ?// |
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It saves the pedestrian from getting hit. Hey, hey, hey, don't go for your fishbone just because of that. |
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// What if this happens at night, and both cars bip their
horns, waking the whole street ? // |
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Sufficient punishment for choosing to live in a heavily-
populated area, I'd say. |
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I love this idea, even though I have absolutely no use for it
since I have no neighbo(u)rs and drive vehicles so rugged
and 'well-used' that I probably wouldn't notice if somebody
backed into one of them with a tank. |
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driven all your neighbours away eh? hah. |
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Nah, never had any. I live in a place called 'the wilderness'.
My closest 'neighbors' are my parents, who live half a mile
away on the other side of a river. On this side, nothing for
2.5 mi in either direction. |
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If I did have any neighbors, however, I would do my level
best to get rid of them, so in that sense I suppose you've
got me pegged. |
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// I live in a place called 'the wilderness'. // |
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You are a resident of Milton Keynes, and we claim out five dollars. |
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// My closest 'neighbors' are my parents // |
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"Parents" ? You are asking us to belive that you actually know who your Father is ... ? |
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// who live half a mile away on the other side of a river. // |
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... but who no doubt wish the river was much wider, and that they were even further away ... |
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// On this side, nothing for 2.5 mi in either direction. // |
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Perhaps if you were to be less enthusiastic about your consumption of Real Ale, granary bread, and curried baked-bean omelettes ? |
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And they blame Ozone depletion and Greenhouse gasses on all sorts of other things ... |
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// penalty for not crossing at an authorized
pedestrian cross-walk or intersection.// |
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Is this a halfbaker speaking? Is this the voice of
proud croissant hunter? Is this what the Land of the
Home and the Brave of the Free has become? I am
saddened. |
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Here, have a picture of Queen Victoria ... |
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Thanks, but I've still got the one she gave me. |
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// "Parents" ? You are asking us to belive that you
actually know who your Father is ... ? // etc. |
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Oh, are we sparring again? I must have missed the memo,
you filthy Rottenberry-humping git. Go watch some Next
Generation re-runs while planning your next ineffectual
salvo. |
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// consumption of Real Ale, granary bread, // |
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Sadly, I have Celiac disease and can no longer partake in
such delights. Even more unfortunate given that my father,
whose identity is indeed confirmed beyond the shadow of a
doubt, is a master brewer of award-winning stouts and
brown ales. Alas, I must be content with the exceptionally
fine ciders you left-driving, snaggle-toothed, monarchy-
worshipping descendants of my ancestors' victims produce
when you're not obsessing over the very worst of American
television (why _do_ Brits love CSI: Mi-hammy so much?). |
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