Gas is on the right.

Albert Einstein once said. A lot of things. He was a smart guy.
But today, I’m thinking of this.

Albert. Go.

“I never think of the future – it comes soon enough.”

Here is the thing about Al. He did not drive, and for good reason. When your brain is that incredibly magnificent, and it is working out equations to establish the relationship between mass and energy, you should probably not be operating a 3,000-pound vehicle.

So. That was his excuse. That is, IF he ever drove a car.

All the other people I come across, on any given day, probably are not disposed with calculations and configurations of those proportions. So really, there is no excuse.

You see, some people cannot — I stress, CANNOT — grasp the concept of the turn signal. I followed a guy today, halfway through town. He had no apparent understanding of the little black stick, which is affixed to the left side of his steering column. Also, he was incredibly ill-versed in using a gas pedal to achieve the speed limits.

I am guessing by the “I’m not as think as you drunk I am” bumper sticker, that he was not going to be discussing Quantum Physics any time soon. So. No excuse, sir. Keep your mind on the road, what little of it there is.

Three days ago, I was following one of those Monster Trucks. The kind with the wheels that belonged to Paul Bunyan, or something. He was creeping along, on a side street. I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it is difficult to see when you are up that high in a vehicle. But then I started asking why anyone would want such a ride. Why would they feel the need to be that much above everyone else? Why the huge, hulking truck? And then, I thought…. “Oh. Yes. It is very likely that he has a rather small penis.” Regardless of his body parts, he was driving about 4 mph in a 35 mph zone. I put on my patience cap.

At the end of this road, there was a stop sign. He stopped. And stopped. And stopped. There was no cross traffic. I could see that clearly with the wide open view UNDER his truck. So after 20 seconds or so, I tapped on my horn lightly. His head whirled around, he opens the door of his truck, stood on the steppy-stoop, and began flipping me off. Cell phone in one hand, middle finger on the other. I think there may have been other anger issues residing within that young man.

I just smiled. Gave a little wave. I then backed up, did a quick U-Turn, and went the other way. I am guessing, with the need for the big truck, he probably also feels the need for a big gun. Hence, my change in route.

Oh. This. World.

I wish the Universe had Traffic Faeries. I do. They would be sort of like the Wood Nymphs who watch over the Green Forests. Or the Rainbow Elves, who are entrusted with every pot of gold. Yes, the Traffic Faeries.

They would simply fly about, with their wands and faerie dust. And if someone were misbehaving in traffic, they would rap them on the hood, sprinkle a little dust, and render the car useless, for 30 minutes. The vehicle would automatically drift its way to safety, and sit. Like a pumpkin in a patch. Then, at 29 minutes, a little note would fall down into the driver’s lap. They would hastily unfold it, eyes wild with curiosity. And the note would say, “Are you ready to be a good driver now, and to pay attention while you have this 3,000-pound vehicle in your hands?” And the horn would toot three times, for effect.

If it were my world.
Beep. Beep. Beep.


“Nothing happens until something moves.”
― Albert Einstein


“To do better is better than to be perfect.”
― Toba Beta


“It all made perfect sense, and at the same time, nothing seemed to make sense at all.”
― Nicholas Sparks, A Walk to Remember