I'm staring at the front grill of the car behind me through my rear view mirror. If I stop suddenly, I'll be able to shake hands with the driver behind me. Why is he riding my rear bumper so closely? He doesn't back off..he's obviously aware he's on my bumper. I mentally flash back to last Saturday morning. I am minding my own business when a car in the lane next to me decides my lane is his lane and starts occupying it. At that rate, we would have hit-my passengers door panal and his front left bumper. I slam on the brakes, honking, trying to get his attention. Once over in my lane, he gives me a nice gesture.
I'm thinking about this and then I remember a talk show I was listening to not long ago. The guest being interviewed said "Road rage is a myth". I thought it odd at the time, and now, today, I'm thinking it's totally untrue. Road rage is alive and well in the city I live in.
We've got to slow down. Stop running so late. Stop trying to pack so much in so little time. There's healing in the laid back life of yesteryear. A time when stores weren't open 24/7, and youth ball meant sand lot style, not organized soccar, baseball, softball or football leagues. When nothing was open on Sunday and spending time with the family was important. There's a book that needs to be written on the lost art of the life and times of Andy Griffith and the Cleaver family in Leave it to Beaver. I just may write it. I'll let you know.
In the mean time, it is a myth that road rage is a myth. Trust me.