Go Easy

We have spent the last 45 miles together in close proximity to one another, but as you round the bend and begin to bask in His glory, the blinding Sun somehow makes me untrustworthy. Your right foot slides off the accelerator, where it was comfortable, and slips over to the brakes. You look nervously in your mirrors, and farther down the lane. The trust we shared now broken, this act is repeated over and over again until the long line slows to a near halt then resumes. Others, more trusting than you, are taken by surprise and have to slow far more quickly than is appropriate.  The wink of chaos appears in the confusion.  As we become accustomed to the dazzling light, we being again to trust, speeding together as brothers and sisters in arms.

You know, I seriously do not understand the concept of “Hey, we’re going 85 mph! We've been less than three feet apart for miles, but when I get a little sun in my eyes, I’ll have to slam on the brakes and slow to 50 just so I can be sure that there isn't a pile-up just ahead.” If we all stay in position, and don’t do anything stupid, there is no need to slow. Keep doing what you are doing and we’ll all be fine. We’ll all be fine TOGETHER.

Here I go again, the grumpy old man rises up in me and I am forever baffled by the inability of people to trust what they know to be trustworthy. We might not be neighbors, or lifelong friends, but we've shared far less space than several tons of steel should be comfortable sharing for quite some time. In traffic, we've forgotten that our bumpers have been close enough to nearly touch so many times that we no longer feel threatened by the possibility. But factor in less than 3 seconds of dazzle, and suddenly you have forgotten how to drive steadily (as you have done for miles and miles already this morning or evening).

Let’s stay in our lanes and keep it steady, Freddie. Whattya say? Can you dig it?

I could write for hours about my travels, and the wonders that seem to never cease while in traffic. Maybe I should. Maybe it would be good therapy.

Until then, Drive on my good man (and woman). Drive on.