traffic

It's a shared experience that should unify us. Why it doesn't may take a bit of parsing here, but I already suspect the answer will be found somewhere in the disconnect of our ability to see ourselves as others do. And that goes double for those who adjust the rear-view mirror onto themselves. I'll start with a few of my own callous observations even though I'm bound to include myself (as I don't see me) and everyone else I love in one description or another. I might as well start with octogenarians- sorry Mom and Dad. First the plus side- when you see that jaunty little driving cap or that swath of grey hair that bearly peeks over the top of the headrest, you know what you're in for. Slowly pass- no sudden moves, and everyone comes out unscathed. I have nothing against slow and careful. But when this approach is employed after pouncing out onto the road from 0 to 35 in two seconds, well, I gotta wonder if their desire to see a cake with one hundred candles on it is terribly strong. Just to deflect any cries of ageism, all drivers turn into eighty-year-olds when pulling into the supermarket parking lot. And most drive at eighty miles an hour to get out of one. The most unfortunate aspect of that is that we both occupy the same space doing it. Segueing into fast drivers here, people in BMWs seem to flaunt the fact that they own whopping chunks of the world while Honda drivers use the same tactics to lament the fact that they only aspire to that condition. And neither one of them gets their money's worth out of the turn signals. Young men in pristine micro-Asian pickup trucks with an image of Calvin relieving himself stuck to the rear window have only ever envisioned one use for their vehicle, two sassy young wams up front and all their jealous buddies bouncing around in the back. Good for them, we all need a dream. Just don't let me see them carrying their dog back there! Middle-aged men in fourteen-year-old cars with the roof felt sagging down over their ears... wait a second, that's me. People with an array of stuffed animals across the rear dash are just as sad. They're as likely as any child to have wasted their last quarter in a claw machine, and it's painfully obvious that what they actually long for is to be at home in bed. Political bumper stickers? C'mon. You're only inviting the palpable hostility of half the country and as a direct result, the teen-aged kid in the back seat will ultimately make it his goal to cancel out your vote for the rest of your life. So who goes first when four cars arrive at an intersection at the same time? The person on the phone. What if they're all on the phone? The person who's the angriest at the person on the other end. I guess I've seen it all- a Mini-van loaded with kids cutting off a school bus loaded with kids- on a highway... book-reading, latte-slurping nose-pickers... brakes applied going up a hill... dual task rear-view mirror usage (lane change and mascara application)... the proverbial ambulance chaser. At the level of invisibility some people believe they're operating, why every other driver on the road won't get out of their way should come as no surprise. I blame the car manufacturers. The relative sense of safety and entitlement sold to us along with the fifteen different ways to gauge our trip, fifteen more to help us forget we're not at home in our fat chairs in front of a TV, and the expectation fostered by the commercial that we will be the only driver on the Pacific Coast Highway, has blinded us. So have tinted windows. We need a way to get back in touch with the world around us. Bring back the big pointy metal parts on the outside. They might serve to remind us of the consequence of getting too close. Replace names like 'Viper' and 'Intrepid' with more sober ones like 'Matlock' and 'Dutiful". And my last suggestion goes out to everyone I've ever jumped ahead of or have been cut off by. Let's all agree not to take it so personally. Each time we turn the key (that's how fourteen-year-old cars start) we could beg a little patience for others and some more for ourselves. If we truly saw ourselves as others see us, we wouldn't need reminding. Maintain an adequate stopping distance and signal your intention. Two hands on the wheel, eyes on the road, and use the extra time it takes driving a little slower to make up better excuses for being late.