Christmas Traffic: It's Mad!

Here we go: Christmas traffic. You’re actually enjoying Christmas shopping this year. You are finding everything. What luck! You reward yourself with a little Christmas music. Nothing can touch your mood. Call it Holiday Magic. "The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear!" Half way into your personal best of "Feliz Navidad," you can feel something huge approaching. You check your rearview mirror and an 18-wheeler is sneaking up behind you with big bold letters spelling 

T-R-O-J-A-N emblazoned across the front, side, and top of the truck (LP: 919270—BTW). “This cannot be good."

Out of nowhere this Spartan speeds up, cuts you off, and turns onto the highway faster than you can yell “D**K!” And just like that, there goes your Christmas spirit. Now you are Scrooge.

After years spent driving 95 and witnessing stories like this on a daily basis, it’s gets harder to curb the language. Or the fear.

Years ago when cell phones used to be car phones, I witnessed something that made me break that receiver right out of the case, put is against my ear, and call 911. I was driving along and came to a complete halt. That’s the way it is on I-95. One minute you are going 55 mph, then next you’re going 0. And there was this woman was rocking in the middle of the road, right in front of her car that had spun around and was facing oncoming traffic (me). It was a scene out of a movie. A hearing-impaired gentleman signed to me asking if I had a phone. I didn’t know any sign language except for learning the alphabet in Girl Scouts (which would come in handy later when I had my kids), but I understood what he wanted. So I made the call. There were enough Samaritans surrounding her, so I left, completely scarred. I still wonder how they were able to get her off the road and keep her safe.

Then there was that time in Bridgeport when I saw a truck ram into an SUV—twice. The truck was in the middle lane, the SUV in the slow lane. I saw the whole thing: the horror on the woman’s face thinking “Will I survive?” then I noticed her middle schooler in the back seat. The truck hit the driver’s side twice, and didn’t even stop. My car phone was a cell now, and I used it to call 911. Every time I think of someone in a life or death situation, I picture this woman’s face. That’s what last moments look like.

Then there was my own accident. I foolishly headed to work during a snowstorm. The roads seemed okay, there were certainly enough people on them, until I decided to get out of the middle lane and cross into the slow lane to let people pass me. I hit an ice patch, and all I can remember was spinning and hearing loud noises as I bumped along the guardrail a few times. Thankfully I didn’t hit anything else. Not one car. But I totaled mine. As I was spinning, I saw that woman’s face. Man, 95 sucks, I thought. 

So consider this a public service message for safe driving during the holidays or any time, really. 

Watch out. Cause it’s not you. It’s the other guy. Mad drivers are everywhere.