The slow and the furious
I drove out of the church parking lot and onto the highway, still filled with the spirit, when someone pulled in front of me and drove 15 mph, so I did the neighborly thing and slammed on my brakes, pressed on the horn, raised a certain finger and yelled, “What the #%@#$()&%@#&$#@ are you doing!?!” (OK, OK, the finger was my pinkie)
Don’t you hate when people do that? You’re driving along at 50 mph in the 35-mph zone, minding your own business, not a care in the world, not a car in front of you, not a car behind you, singing “All You Need Is Love,” when suddenly with no warning whatsoever, an old person — or a person a few days older than you — pulls in front of you and pokes along for 20 feet before making a lefthand turn without turning on their signal light. Did you get all that? (Sometimes it’s a young person with a grudge against old people, so they cut you off.)
Why can’t they wait, especially since no one is behind you? All these troubling thoughts race through your brain, and you realize you’re going to need a lot of deep breathing and meditation to lower your blood pressure. Not to mention medication.
In my case, the road was slick with frozen rain and a fog was rolling in, thicker than the notorious 1952 Great Smog of London. Well, maybe that last part is fake news, but I needed some dramatic effect.
I considered passing this person even though I was in a nopassing zone. My guardian angel must have been with me, because I didn’t try to pass, which is a good thing because we both would have ended up waiting in line in the Motor Vehicles Department in the sky.
This scenario seems to be one of life’s perennial inequities, sort of like having the office Mussolini promoted to office manager, or the kid who always cheats being nominated to the National Honor Society. Anyway, life is unfair, as JFK, not JFP, once said.
A few days later, I got my revenge when I pulled out in front of a Dodge Ram pickup truck with monster tires and those blinding LED headlights. Stupid move. He didn’t respond as graciously as I did. I almost got rear-ended, and I could hear him screaming from behind the wheel of his truck as he rode my butt. I feared I was going to be front page news the next day, another tragic victim of 21st century road rage.
When I was growing up, road rage didn’t exist. (They don’t call them the “good ole days” for nothing.) In fact, WICC 600 AM radio in Bridgeport had a campaign called Courtesy of the Road. If you were spotted doing something courteous to another motorist, you got public praise and who knows what else? A half-dozen cannolis from Luigi’s Bakery, a chili dog and fries from the Merritt Canteen and maybe even tickets to the Loews Poli Theatre.
I never won that award because I didn’t have my driver’s license, and my parents didn’t win it either because they were usually cussing someone out on the road. (I guess I learned from them.) Nevertheless, courtesy of the road is much needed today.
I want you to read the next paragraphs very slowly because they contain a lot of wisdom ... largely because I didn’t write them. A thoughtful and kind reader sent them to me, and I’d like to share them.
Carol of Kent emailed about an incident she had on the road, and if offers a profound lesson for us all. She wrote:
“Just yesterday, I was able to turn a situation around. I had accidentally pulled out in front of someone who was kind enough to slow down and let me into the lane. I noticed that he turned into the same parking lot, so I sought him out.
“I apologized and thanked this young man for being so gracious. He smiled and said my car was like his wife’s, and he always wants her and their little kids to be safe. Honestly, it was an exceptional moment of gratitude for me! To quote Michael J. Fox, in AARP, ‘Gratitude makes optimism sustainable.’ ”
I read that and thought, “There’s still hope for America.”
So the next time someone cuts you off, show a little patience ... especially if it’s me. And if that doesn’t work, try singing “All You Need Is Love.”