Going Nowhere Fast

Yet another Fourth of July is behind us, and if you are reading this from the comfort of your living room, office, or toilet seat, then congratulations on surviving another holiday weekend!  Contrary to my usual mood, I'm actually being serious; Fourth of July may very well be the deadliest holiday of the year.  You could have a body part blown off by fireworks.  You could get hit by a stray bullet that was fired into the air in celebration by someone who couldn't get their hands on any fireworks because they're illegal in your state, because fireworks can be dangerous when handled by someone who's been drinking all day, unlike guns.  You could choke on an all-American hot dog or hamburger.  You could be crushed by a parade float.  You could get caught up in a soccer riot, which is a real possibility anywhere, anytime on the planet during the World Cup.  Of course, any one of those things would be preferable to sitting in all that traffic.

The worst part about traffic is that unless you live in an area where cows outnumber people, there's no escaping it.  Most roads and highways were built back when there were a lot fewer people on the road to flip off, with no one taking into account that driving and procreation weren't passing fads.  You sit in traffic on your way to and from work, to and from school, to and from the mall, to and from your dealer's house, etc.  Weekends and holidays offer not relief but cruel irony, as you find yourself in even worse traffic than usual due to every person in a fifty-mile radius attempting to "get away from it all."  As a result a long weekend at the beach boils down to one day of actual recreation, with the rest of the time reserved for leaving early to beat the traffic.  But you never really beat the traffic, do you?  It's always there, waiting for the next victim to be zipping merrily along when they're suddenly forced to apply the brakes and mutter foul language.

But traffic isn't just the result of a massive number of cars clogging up the highways like Big Macs clog a fat man's arteries.  Construction takes some of the blame, where your tax dollars are put to work giving mafia-affiliated contractors and politicians gobs of dough to wipe their asses, but the biggest culprits are the motorists themselves.  Highway driving should be the easy.  There are no stop signs or pedestrians to get in your way; all you have to do is stay within the lines like you learned in kindergarden.  Yet people still manage to fuck it up.  Not a weekday goes by without your car radio telling you to "expect delays" because some idiot caused an accident trying to shave five seconds off their commute.  If you don't want to be that idiot, just remember this: you are an insignificant bug on the windshield of life.  Nothing you do is so important that you have to race 90 mph cutting people off to do it.  You will accomplish nothing in your short time on earth except dying, which may happen sooner than you think if you don't put down that cell phone, makeup and dental floss and pay attention to the road.  You'll find yourself with far fewer deities gunning for you at the request of your fellow motorists, and without all of those distractions you might actually start to find driving almost pleasant.  Give it a shot...you've got nothing to lose except those five seconds.