Unlike most of the students here at Penn State, my science savvy is nearly nonexistent.

The most challenging college science class I have taken is EGEE 101, but somehow I feel as though I have a much firmer grasp on the laws of physics than most of the other students on this campus. I know, that sounds pretty arrogant, but when it comes down to it -- I don't walk out in front of moving cars.

Sure, I think about it, but every time I do, I recall a phrase from one of my high school science classes that goes a little something like, "An object in motion stays in motion unless acted upon by an outside force."

Let's get hypothetical for a minute and say that a 100-pound student walks onto the street in front of my 1.4-ton Pontiac traveling at a cool (and legal) 25 m.p.h. on Curtin Road.

According to Newton, my car will no longer be in motion because it was acted upon.

However, our 100-pound student isn't going to be in much motion, either. I don't know what drivers' education everyone took in high school, but at my high school, we learned that the purpose of a crosswalk was to provide legal recourse for a person injured by a speeding vehicle that strikes them as they cross in a situation where they would've had enough time to cross safely were the vehicle not disregarding the speed limit.

But I see people around here acting like those white lines on the asphalt are a physical barrier that's going to protect them from the oncoming traffic -- namely me -- they're skipping out in front of.

I shouldn't have to screech to a halt because you can't wait five seconds for me to pass; and in many cases, I simply may not be able to come to a stop soon enough to avoid injuring someone.

I'm willing to bet that a considerable portion of the people I see risking life and limb for those extra five seconds are doing so because they're running late.

Everyone runs late -- that's life, but you're not going to get to wherever you're going if you're face-to-face with my front bumper.

Take a few deep breaths and accept that you're a little late and that

Armageddon isn't going to descend upon State College because you're a little late.

Once you've calmed down, take some advice from your friends at the Advisory Task Force for Pedestrian Safety Education: "If walking, you MUST NOT leave a curb or place of safety and walk or run into the path of a vehicle that is so close as to constitute as a hazard."

My advice is simply this: If you can't hear my approaching car's engine yet, walk. If you can see the color of my eyes from behind my steering wheel, don't walk.

The pedestrians I see day-in and day-out generally tend to make the same three stupid mistakes.

The first and easiest to spot is jay-walking. Most people do it numerous times a day, however, I don't think most people are aware that crossing mid-block is not only illegal; it's the cause of more than 40 percent of all pedestrian fatalities according to the State College Police Department Web site.

The second stupid mistake is another one that most people are inclined to do more often than they should; it's disregarding the crossing signals. Sure, in a State College police survey, 65 percent of pedestrians admitted to not waiting for the "walk" symbol but that's child's play compared to the 14 percent of State College drivers who said they don't yield to pedestrians in the crosswalks.

I'd like to reflect back upon our 100-pound pedestrian versus the 1.4-ton vehicle situation right about now.

The worst mistake, though, is definitely one of the dumbest.

People don't look before they cross the street. Didn't we learn this on Sesame Street?

Wasn't this one of three things required to commit to memory in order to pass kindergarten (after the alphabet and before "stop, drop and roll")?

Apparently we need to adjust to the obvious elementary school mindset of this town and employ a few crossing guards.

On second thought, we don't need crossing guards. Everybody just needs to turn off their MP3 players, hang up their cell phones, quit making out with their significant others, and take a good hard look in each direction that traffic could potentially strike them.

In a town where pedestrians would seem to believe that their faith in the pedestrian right-away and the faded lines of a crosswalk will save them from oncoming traffic, it would be wise to stay on the curb for that extra five seconds. You never know when drivers paying attention behind the wheel, whether or not their brakes are in good condition, or when they're one of the 14 percent of drivers who don't yield to pedestrians.

Or when they are like me, acting on behalf of my own warped version of Darwinism.