I often comply with California freeway speed limits, but not with my personal limits on freeway traffic jams. For too long I’ve been asking myself why am “driving” 70 miles below the speed limit? I am about done with being entertained by bumper stickers that make me glad I don’t know the person in front of me.
My caught in freeway traffic limit is one per week and it is a limit I routinely break. I work part-time. I can’t work anymore because I am unable to idle my life away inside a car trapped by other cars; in essence, I have a disability that is not covered by worker’s compensation.
Here is where I digress: I have fond memories of my long-ago job as a reporter for an afternoon newspaper. Most people don’t remember that some newspapers were delivered in the afternoon. It was simple back then. You read the paper after work while consuming a cocktail and if you were really interested in the world, you had a second cocktail and watched Huntley/Brinkley on NBC or Walter Cronkite on CBS. Well, about the time TV news aired, I was hot on the job, investigating some scandal you could read about the following afternoon. My point here is I went to work when traffic was light and I came home after midnight on roads without cars. This was a job without traffic.
My idyllic commuting life ended before the afternoon newspaper business died. I was drafted into the Army and for a time had no vehicle to drive. I marched to work. My days in green were certainly safer than today’s freeway congestion where every 14 minutes radio traffic reports remind me why I am where I am.
Ok, the road rage has subsided for today. I think I’ll go to the ocean. By foot!