What a funeral! - Part 3

So, I get in my car and start reading the handout while waiting for my turn to join the procession. The card says there is information being broadcast over a station on the FM band. Cool idea! I tune in, and am being fed helpful information about the procession. As the card indicates, funeral processions have no extra rights on the road - no automatic right of way. I am to obey all traffic signals, and I am only allowed through a red-light on the specific instructions of the police escort.

I should point out that I do not go out much at night. I go to work, come home, veg by the TV. I may live in the Toronto area, but that doesn't mean I know every street in the city. As my car gets the green light to proceed, I follow the car ahead of me, concentrating on not getting separated from the procession. After only two blocks, I realize the FM signal that was so strong 30 seconds ago is now a distant memory. The thought occurs to me that I should have listened more carefully to the broadcast while it was on the air, because I have absolutely no idea where the cemetery is. I begin to have thoughts of getting lost - a pall-bearer who can't find the funeral. And then, as if to really stick it to me, the light I'm approaching turns red as the car just in front of me forces it's way into the turn lane just ahead of the cross street traffic. And there's no police escort in sight! There is absolutely no way I can proceed. As I impatiently wait for the light to change (or for a break in the traffic), I realize that the car in front of me is long gone, and I have no idea where I'm going. It also occurs to me that the people behind me may not know where they're going either, and will do whatever they can to stay on my tail!

The next five minutes of driving felt like an eternity. I was absolutely determined not to get stuck at another red light. I had to figure out how to make up the distance between me and the procession. With one eye on traffic, and the other scanning the horizon for any sign that the procession has changed direction, I blindly go forward. Miraculously, I caught a glimpse of the car I had been following earlier - about two blocks ahead of me. I only recognized it because of the four-way flashers. Throwing caution to the wind (and any hope that people behind me would be able to catch up), I sped up and finally caught up with the car. It was just in the nick of time, because the car had been slowing down to turn off the main road.

That was the end of the excitement for the day, but I have to really protest that funeral processions in Toronto are not given the respect and right-of-way that I am accustomed to in Windsor (and I assume most other cities).