Traffic Patterns Through History.

If you know me you know I love people. If you don't know me, well, I love people. I don't understand them, any of them, individually, or in groups, they are inaccessible and exotic. I watch, and admire, and try to learn but the lessons are difficult, and the methods are madness.

Last week, sometime, I was sitting at a stoplight, something I seem to spend a lot of time doing. But, I have gotten fairly proficient at sitting for traffic lights. I probably do it as well as anybody. I could give lessons. Waiting in a traffic jam is another practice I have almost perfected. Really, they both spring from the same well. You need a highly developed sense of apathy, and a willingness to spend time with yourself.  I fascinate me. I am a person, after all.

Anyway, I was sitting at the stoplight watching the traffic, enjoying life's rich drama unfold. It was a large intersection with several stages of allowable traffic, left turn only, right turn only and several combinations from all four directions. Sometimes even that amazes me, the coordination, the complex planning, the timing and layout, it really is a marvel of human engineering, I am always impressed.

Anyway, again, I was sitting at the light, waiting my turn, the glorious green that would send me cruising home, a smile on my face, and a song in my heart. The light had turned green for the people who were on my right and wanted to turn left. The man in front, the first car, it was actually an older sport utility vehicle, maybe an Isuzu Rodeo, maybe not, I don't know anything about cars and am just taking a wild guess, it was red, though. Right behind it was a newer car, it was, I am sure, silver.

Anyway, one more time, I was sitting at the light. The light changed for the red car, and the silver car, and all the cars behind them, to turn left. The red car driver was not paying attention, so the driver in the silver car honked the horn. A hostile act infuriating the driver in the red car. Who drove all the way around the left turn leaned over, looking into the side mirror on the drivers door screaming at the car behind him.

No driver worth his liability insurance is going to tolerate that, so the driver in the silver car was hollering for all he was worth all the way around the corner. Perhaps all the way into eternity. A modern day Norse myth, the sun chasing the moon in screaming obscene anger. It seems to be a perfect circle, a never ending pattern.

It plays out on every road I travel, every place there is traffic. Hurry, rush, curse, repeat. There is a comfort in knowing the reaction never changes. People are always angry, nobody knows how to enjoy waiting at the light.