Don't make that mistake.

If you were to take the expressway from the northeast corner of Columbus to Downtown you would notice a construction site.  If you are driving early, before sunrise, you might be amazed at the action, and the light.  It is so bright, and so hectic it resembles an ant colony lit up by a hundred blinding white suns, one in each room, on every floor.  If you made that trip daily for an extended period you would be surprised at the speedy progress.  You might even be so impressed by the efficiency that you would ask your co-workers what was being built.

It is possible that your co-worker, despite being very knowledgeable about such things, would have no clue.  So, you might check on line, looking at the local governments building permits, and find nothing.  You might check the local papers archives and find no mention of a new building in that area.  It is entirely possible that the local television stations could tell you nothing about the mysterious, well lit building that is being completed so quickly.

Maybe you could drive by on your lunch break, but the fencing around the building may be so opaque, high and absolute that you could see nothing, and would still not know.  No signs proudly proclaiming  the ultimate occupant, no mention of the contractor, the architect or the principals of any kind, anywhere.

At this point you might be so intrigued, or frustrated, or both, that you would not be able to keep yourself from approaching the security guard with abnormally long arms, a head that seemed too large, and the slightly sickly, slightly shiny green tint, what was being built, and how it was being completed so quickly.

That would be a big mistake, trust me.  There are things you just don't want to know, and this is one of them.

Morning commutes can be hectic.

Today's drive was a little hectic.  At 6:15 traffic is, generally speaking, pretty light, normally, really, just smooth sailing, mostly.  Not today.

It started right on the first freeway ramp.  In front of my car was a Chevy Silverado, bright red, a big gas guzzling pickup, you could tell it never hauled anything more freight worthy than groceries, a real pretty boy thing,  Poking along, screwing up the whole works.  He merged to the left, perfect time to pass him.  Accelerating until I was pulling ahead a little Mr. Sissy man pickup driver saw I was going around him and decided that was not the best way to start his day, and sped up.  Driving defensively, and not wanting to cause any accidents, I put my foot to the floor, and passed him doing 85 miles per hour (Miles are like kilometers, only longer, or not as long, I don't remember, and an hour is like a minute times 60)

It was a great feeling watching the schmuck sobbing in my rear view mirror, until a car flew past on the left and took the lead, then one on the right. nearly causing an accident, lunatics anyway.  Whipping into the middle lane I drafted (drafting is a racing term and it means, driving right behind someone so close in order to create, to gather, to generate, never mind what it means, it isn't important) behind a Honda Odyssey going 120 mph.  I was so close I managed to catch the last few minutes of Scooby Doo on the DVD screen.  Did you know the Creeper was really the butler?

I looked out the drivers side window and who was there?  That's right, Jeff Gordon in the number three car.  He flipped me the bird and went to pass the minivan.  I double clutched and shifted into a lower gear, which was hard, since I don't have any idea what that means and my car has an automatic transmission.  Swerving over I managed, barely to clip his rear bumper and send him careening into the ambulance, whose driver was using the lights and sirens in a foolish attempt to get to ahead of me.

Only two cars left to pass and the lead would be mine, and one of them was a school bus.  Victory is going to be so sweet.  But, as the school bus and I were jockeying for position a state patrolman cruised by and I decided he should probably have the honor.  Brave public servant that he is.