Tuesday, November 21, 2006

The Race to Be Fastest to the Red Light



There are a lot of angry drivers in New Orleans. Many of these angry drivers probably also have guns. It's surprising the number of people here who have guns. In their cars.

Normally I love driving. I will drive for hours, as long as it's possible to sing while doing it. My longest driving stint was 24 hours through central Japan, trying to make it to Mt. Fuji by dawn. (That was a dumb idea.) But now I actually dread driving more than 10 minutes in my home city.

There is no speed limit anymore. If you feel like going 60mph in a 35mph zone, there's no one to stop you. If you feel like going through the red light, well, why not? It's in the way. And who said everyone has to be going in the same direction on a one-way street? It's much more efficient to just go any way you want to go.

Two weeks ago, I saw police set up a speed trap, pulling cars over and giving people tickets. I cheered. A little civilization brought back to the wild wild Westbank. I acutally waited to clap until just after passing the police officers. I didn't want to attract their attention and have them pull me over too.

I try not to get mad. I try not to say bad words or make hand gestures or do anything that would provoke guns when other drivers frustrate me. Instead I smile a saccharine smile and make a wish, "a ticket upon you, a very very expensive ticket upon YOU." Sometimes it works.

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