Highway to the Anger Zone

by Halcyon

What is it about driving that makes me (and apparently everyone else) crazier than Manson on parole day? As a fairly mellow guy, I’m shocked at my behavior while driving. Perhaps it’s the layer of steel that protects us from the constraints of normal social behavior? We pick at our noses, dance with the enthusiasm of a ‘Soul Train’ dancer and sing as if we were performing on our farewell tour. And that’s the harmless part (if you count my singing to be ‘harmless’). What about the yelling, the cursing and the obscene gestures? Did we forget that in this protective shell of steel there is also glass? Glass that is, unlike steel, transparent and thus revealing. It’s our own little isolation chamber with questionable boundaries of conduct…that we’re sharing with everyone else on the road.

Honestly, when else would I even consider sticking my middle finger at someone in anger? Somehow it just seems to be a part of driving but not other aspects of my life. Why doesn’t this caveman-like act of aggression crossover? Would I defiantly ‘flip the bird’ to my rude waiter when they run out of French Onion soup? Do I stick my middle finger out at the receptionist who tells me my colonicist is running late? Of course not. I get the Minestrone and I sit down in the waiting room and read 7-year-old People magazines (Burt and Loni are splitting? Noooo!).

It’s really pretty appalling how we treat each other while driving. This type of anger and disrespect is not how I want to live my life. I decided I wanted to improve my attitude and actions towards my fellow driving man.

I was talking with a friend about the absurdity of screaming at drivers who make the unthinkable offense of forgetting to signal before changing lanes, or, worse yet, leaving their blinker on indefinitely (as if to announce, “Perhaps, in the near future, my car will change lanes. You just look out.”). He said it helps him to calmly recite the mantra “We’re all in this together. We’re all in this together.” He does this and begins to see his fellow drivers as companions in this crazy game of driving opposed to enemies preventing you from reaching your destination.

Driving to work shouldn’t be like the ‘Road Warrior’ movies. I want to feel more comfortable with my fellow citizens and not view them as muscular, eerily tan S&M villains (you have seen ‘Road Warrior’, right?).

Not too long after this inspiring conversation with my friend I was driving behind a car onto a freeway onramp. The driver in front of me decided it was in our best interest to join the other freeway drivers while driving in the 35 miles per hour range – despite the fact that the drivers we planned on merging with were cruising along at a speed much higher than this. It is, after all, a freeway. Perhaps freedom means different things to different people. To me, the FREEway means I have the FREEdom to drive over 35 miles per hour. And isn’t a “maximum” speed limit really the state’s way of saying, “This is the speed you should drive. Try not to go much faster but definitely don’t drive slower.”

As I feel my left eye begin twitching, I remember the mantra.

“We’re all in this together.”
“We’re all in this together.”

So “together” we enter the freeway at a dangerously slow speed. “Together” we make other drivers slam on their brakes and swerve around us. “Together”, perhaps, we’ll embrace our fiery deaths when a semi plows into us from behind, unable to slow down in time.

I say it again, louder this time. “We’re all in this together.”

Now I’m yelling, “WE’RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER….WE’RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER….” Then I snap, “SINCE ‘WE’RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER’ YOU’VE GOT TO PULL YOUR FREAKING WEIGHT!”

Needless to say, the mantra didn’t work. I now find taking a nice deep breath, relaxing my shoulders and remembering that we all make driving mistakes help keep me calm. Hey, the mantra works for you and replacing the freon in my air-conditioning with nitrous oxide works for me. Potato – Po-tah-to.