True Confessions: There are times that I find myself thinking, at every traffic light, “Why do people take so LONG to move forward when the light turns green?” I mean, seriously, are people not clear on the concept that green means go? Perhaps other people don’t sit with hands at 10 and 2, fingers twitching, gazing fixedly at the traffic light for that blessed moment when it changes so they can jam their foot down on the accelerator, like some strange cross between Speed Racer and Uncle Frank in “One Crazy Summer.”
But it still seems there has to be a happy medium between driving like Uncle Frank and driving like the turtles in “Hoodwinked.”
Now, I understand that we all get caught unawares changing a CD or reading a text message or daydreaming once in a while. We’re all human, after all. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about people with reflexes slower than molasses in January. And not just one of these people, here or there. I’m talking about the inevitable LINE of slow people one gets stuck behind during the one commute in which one is in a hurry, having been unavoidably detained from an important appointment.
I have a friend who would call this rant “The Excitement Plan.” He says quite wisely that you live a lot longer if you refuse to get excited over things like this. It’s better to sit back, raise your hands and smile. People are people, and no one has yet come up with a plan to fix that. He’s probably right.
Then again, he doesn’t live in L.A.
Tonight I found myself musing that just once in my life, I would like to drive a monster truck, perhaps with a cow-catcher mounted on the front, so that when I get stuck behind a long line of people who aren’t clear on the concept that green means go, I can just give them all a little nudge. I’m sure it’s just some encouragement they need. Just a little nudge forward… all nine of them. Just a little friendly tap on the bumper to say, “Hey guys, the light’s green. How about we all go now?” Really, just once would do it. I think I could be patient for the rest of my life after that.