Oh good – you’re still here!

Sorry, folks – I would’ve been here sooner, but I ran into a little “traffic problem” along the way, and by “traffic problem” I mean to say that I got stuck behind someone who opted to go approximately .0000002 mph in a 55 mph zone on what seems to be by far the longest stretch of unpassable, two-lane highway this side of civilization. Frankly, I’m surprised I even made it here at all because at the rate I was clipping along, with chipmunks and squirrels zipping by me on the side of the road like I was moving backwards, I was starting to get concerned that by the time I finally did arrive, the home that I knew would’ve by then slowly deteriorated over time, making way for a new golf course or strip mall or whatever else tends to blossom up in the middle of suburbia when something dies a slow and arduous death…

Sadly, this idea of driving without actually moving seems to be the painful norm here in this small, Floridian town that I call home. Some folks “playfully” like to call Florida God’s waiting room, which is cute and all until you realize just how big of a parking lot that God needs for his medical facilities! If you ask me, the almighty needs to look into building a few parking garages or something because his current plan of just letting his patients roam the streets in their cars at the speed of nothing just isn’t working and I’m fairly certain that I’m not the only one who’s at the end of my rope here on this one!

Of course, just like in any community, there are some parts of town that are better than others – for example, the roads not in our town are infinitely more traverseable than those within a lug nuts throw of city hall…except on Thursdays when that one senior center just on the outskirts hosts BINGO night, anyways. And mind you, it doesn’t help that my own particular little village also happens to be one of several specks on Florida’s landscape that plays host to snow birds by the trillions who flock here each winter so as not to wreak havoc on their own snow and ice-laden communities with sub-adequate driving skills and nothing but time to kill until Wheel comes on at 7:00pm. Let me tell you, until it’s taken you 15 minutes to drive a mile and a half because you’re stuck behind a small houseboat driving fifteen miles a month down the highway with its left blinker on the entire duration of the trip, you haven’t truly known misery…

Mind you, though, it’s not only the elderly delaying my transit home after a long and arduous day, as we certainly can’t have a conversation about bad driving without remembering the soccer moms and hockey dads in their mini-vans and SUVs, shuttling a battalion of children to one extracurricular after another in a desperate attempt to live vicariously through little league tournaments and ballet recitals, all the while driving profusely down the center of the road at 20 under the speed limit while barking grocery lists to their significant others or sharing gossip from the latest PTA meeting with others who are simultaneously wreaking havoc in their own sport utility vehicles in other neighborhoods both near and far. If I had a nickel for every time I’ve gotten stuck behind one of these lazy road squatters just distracted enough to not allow me a single opportunity to pass because they’re conveniently speeding up and then subsequently slowing back down each and every time we get to a suitable passing area, I’d probably have enough to at least take a cab a couple of nights a week…which actually might help quite a bit!

Imagine – if only these torturous souls knew of the insanity that they were passively inflicting on the twenty cars lined up behind them. I’d like to think that there would be a general threshold that eventually kicks in when every trip behind the wheel gets a driver aggressive honks, middle fingers, and death threats that one would finally come to the realization of, “Wow – maybe I am a horrible driver! How’s about I do the world a favor and just take the bus from this point forward?!” If only it was that easy, and gumdrops rained from the heavens, and every street was lined with the sparkles of silver and gold, and instead of collecting taxes the government held an enormous, coast-to-coast ice cream social once a year on April 15th.

Yes, such a world free of vehicular ineptitude would certainly be grand, but alas, our currently reality lies littered with snail-paced drivers and at the end of the day, aside from purchasing a steamroller (which is really expensive – trust me, I’ve looked into it!), there’s little else we can do besides grin and bear it, and buy stock in whatever company makes those squishy, little stress balls shaped like SUVs and station wagons. Just know that the next time you’re out there stuck in traffic behind somebody who would rather do the daily crossword puzzle out of the paper than actually drive anything even vaguely resembling the posted speed limit, you are not alone, for no doubt on a similar highway I’m doing the exact same thing.

The only difference between you and me – I’m getting more material for these things every single time! So look for that new book on How I Learned to Stop Letting Idiots on the Road Get to Me and Love Taking the Bus hitting the shelves of your local bookseller any day now…