[These are bad drivers.]
I combat road rage by yelling at drivers in traffic. I have an ugly rubber frog that I wave at the offending drivers, and I yell ungrammatical sentences at them. It is quite possible that this makes very little sense. Let me elaborate.
Without warning, drivers sluggishly drift in front of me and clumsily wander past moving obstacles on the freeway. In a less enlightened era, I would angrily honk my horn at them.
"I am responding to your behavior with a noxious stimulus!" I would cry. My heart would race, and my adrenal glands would ooze antagonistic neurotransmitters into my bloodstream. This did not aid my general well being.
But now I respond to the apparent insanity of other drivers with apparent insanity.
I wave the rubber frog at the other drivers (but only after I have reacted to the bizarre traffic pattern in front of me and it is safe to do so). I do not bother to take my eyes off of the road. This does not affect my frantic frog waving abilities.
"All the bees cannot above the house the hive is in," I yell. "Bill abandoned near the stadium last Tuesday."
The other drivers do not notice, but this is not surprising. I, however, feel delightfully wacky, and not the least bit enraged.
Thursday, March 6th, 2003
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© 2003 Karl Bailey.