Howard got his name at college, too. I ran track at Pima
and after one particularly difficult workout, we were running our two mile cool
down and we were a little, um, giddy. One of my favorite movies is “What’s Up,
Doc?” w/ Barbara Streisand and Ryan O’Neil. The late, great Madeline Kahn has a
wonderful part and she drones all her lines in this perfectly nasally voice.
So, I was mimicking the lines…”Howard? Howard Banister?” and we were laughing
and cracking ourselves up. We finish our run, shower, change, and head to the
parking lot for the long ride home and there is my Toyota Corona and we all
scream together, “Howard!” And from that day forward, my car was Howard. As
much as I hated that car, I cried the day I traded it in for a POS Geo Metro.
The dealer gave me $750 as a trade in, which was about $749 too much. I now
drive a 4runner and I think some times that it is really just a matured Howard.
All this to say, we get attached to our vehicles; they are our homes away from
home. We spend a lot of time in them and they do become important to us.
In our homes on wheels, we drive around in our own little
cocoon w/ climate control, our own music, our own DVDs. Our seats are cushioned
and comfortable. We have visors to block the sun, tint to give us some privacy,
and gps to tell us where we are going. The vehicle we pick is an extension of
ourselves, too. Trucks, sports cars, sedans, vans. What you drive, whether we
like it or not, says something about you. I have an aversion to vans. I never,
ever want one, and on the occasions I’ve had to drive one, I hang my head a
little. I remember recoiling in horror the day my Dad called and proudly said
he had purchased a van. What?! “Why, Dad?!” I wailed into the phone. “Well, it has room for my planes and my golf
clubs and when the whole family gets together, we can all go in one vehicle.” I
shouldn’t have been surprised; his previous car was a station wagon, complete
w/ the wood panels on the side, and of course, Howard was a station wagon. What
did this say about my Dad? That he didn’t give a flip what anyone thought.
Marines are like that. He had been in intelligence and jumped out of planes. He
didn’t need to prove his manhood w/ a vehicle. Van? Good enough for him.
But, something happens when we get behind the wheel.
Since we are in our own cocoon, we think we can do whatever we want and that no
one else matters. I have seen perfectly respectable people turn into Tasmanian
Devils when they get behind the wheel.
They tailgate; they speed; they weave in and out of traffic; they yell
at other drivers. And it’s always a little shocking, right?
What also is shocking is what happens to me. Something
happens to me when I get behind the
wheel. I find myself getting angry at people. I find myself yelling at them;
“What the heck are you doing?!” “Hang up your freakin phone and drive!” “Are
you freakin kidding me?!” They can’t hear me of course, unless I am driving w/
my window open and I yell, “He-llo!” w/ all the irritation I can muster when
someone doesn’t turn right when the light turns green. And it turns out to be
someone who lives a few houses up from me. And she wasn’t turning because there
was someone in the crosswalk. Ouch. My face turned red and it started me
wondering what it is about driving that turns me into someone I don’t like very
much? I mean, I can go from singing along to a praise song on Air1 to
screeching at someone is 0.5 seconds, and then resume my singing without
batting an eye.
Now, there are numerous things that make me crazy about
Tucson drivers, but first and foremost are the people who drive below the speed
limit. I don’t get it. Why? Why are you driving slower than the speed limit on
a crowded street? And always in the left lane? You are not on a country back
road somewhere; you are in a thriving metropolis. If this happens I will spell out
the speed limit for you while shouting, “45! The speed limit is 45!” and no,
this has never made anyone speed up, but it makes me feel better somehow. When
I used to have to drive around for claims, this would all but send me over the
edge. And, of course, now a days, the reason someone is driving too slow is
because they are texting. Don’t get me started.
So, here we are driving around in our homes away from
home and we are so absorbed in our little comfy bubble, that it is hard for us
to think about anyone else. Are there other people on the road? But, I’m
on the road! It never fails to crack me up when I see people come roaring up to
a stop sign on a side street and they are truly irritated when there is traffic on a
main road. They throw their hands up in the air and roll their head around
because they actually have to stop. Really? At 7:50 am you don’t think others
are also going to be driving to work, too? Apparently not. Or have you ever
turned right? I mean, turned right not from a right turn lane? 99% of the time,
if you look in your rear view mirror, you will see Cruella de Ville back there
giving you the death stare because they had to slow down. Except when you are
the 99%, right? Come on, admit it! You have been Cruella giving somebody the
evil eye for causing you to slow up a bit. I know I have.
And I guess, I just wonder why? Why do I get so angry?
Why does everyone get so angry? What do I care if they are texting, or driving
too slow? Or tailgating me to the point I can see the color of their shirt?
Because I could get hurt? Yes, that is part of it. Goodness knows 15 years of
adjusting auto claims has shown me what can happen to you by all these
infractions. Or is it that we are angered by the lack of caring doing these
things shows we have for one another? If
I choose to speed and text at the same time, in a sense, I am saying, I have no
regard for you. My need to send or read a text is more important than you are. I am more important that you are. And,
that is what makes us mad.
Because we are a rude society, right? The rudeness we see
on a daily basis is so much the norm that when someone actually does something
nice, it stands out. We have the “pay it forward” concept of doing something
nice to someone else, but really, it just means it’s because we don’t normally
do that sort of thing. And I mean “we” as a society. We are an oblivious
society…oblivious to one another. And when we drive, in our own little world,
we don’t see past the hood of our car. So, if I want to speed, or cut you off,
or text and drive slow, or turn right on red while you are making a U-turn, that’s
my prerogative. And, there is nothing you can do about it but get mad and stew.
Or make hand gestures out your window.
So, as the angry driver, what am I to do? I don’t want to
be angry every time I get behind the wheel. I like driving for the most part
and I don’t want to continue screeching at people from the driver’s seat. As with
everything, the change must come from me. I’m not going to change that people
are rude and oblivious, but I can change how I react to people being rude and
oblivious. It’s my choice to let things get to me while driving. It’s my choice
to not be graceful to people. Jesus teaches us to forgive others who have
wronged us and to treat others as we want to be treated. I’m pretty sure that
extends to being in a car. I don’t stop believing His teachings just because I’m
behind the wheel, although at times it feels like that. Love your neighbor is also
something Jesus said, and, darn it, a neighbor isn’t just someone who lives
next door. They are the person in the car who is driving slow or speeding or
texting or cutting me off. But, one of the good things about Jesus is…He is
there to help. Because goodness knows He is the only one who can turn me from
Cruella back into me when I’m driving these ridiculous Tucson streets.
So, happy driving, and for the love of all that is good,
at least go the speed limit!
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