So, I was sitting in traffic yesterday (Crosstown to Liberty Bridge to the tunnels, then Rt. 51 south … yep, you’ve done this too if you are from The Burgh). Anyhoo, this relatively ‘normal’ looking guy is in a Jeep behind me as we c-r-a-w-l along the Crosstown ramp. I’ve got my top down, enjoying the sunshine while I listen to some relaxing classical music; hey, it is a beautiful day, and I’m Zen-ing … even in traffic. Then I see him start to get a little more than frustrated at the traffic as we near the bridge. His hands start moving while his face contorts as he apparently begins to yell at all the people in the cars in front of him because clearly, we could all be doing something better than we are, but we all seem to be in on this conspiracy together which is designed simply to irritate him. So far, I think, we seem to be succeeding beautifully if the silent movie playing out in my rear view mirror is any indication. Oh, but then the ‘silent’ movie gains sound as he winds down his window and begins to yell. Of course, his gestures get a little more, um … emphatic. They become intense and serious punctuation marks for his traffic commentary as we crawl along the bridge and approach the tunnel. While we are in the tunnel he realizes that if he adds the horn section to the sound track (yes, inside the tunnel!), it would be much more effective in getting the traffic lights at the end of the tunnel to change. However, they also seem to be in on this conspiracy; his face begins to really transform as it gains a few deeper shades of red. His anger continues to build to a point that actually scares me. Hey, I’m directly in front of this raging maniac; that means I’m his best target when he finally erupts. I remain calm even though I’m suddenly more interested in getting this traffic moving than he is, and yet I’m pretty certain that if I join in on the horn section, it’s not going to matter. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve never actually seen that work … and so I raise the volume of my relaxing music a little bit while keeping one eye on traffic, and one eye on my rear view mirror. Thank goodness for sunglasses ;-D. It must have been about thirty minutes (although it seemed like three hours) before we got on to Rt. 51 and I watched him dart wickedly through traffic as he jumped angrily from lane to lane. I was happy that he was now in front of me; however, I’m sure his mood did not change. He still did not get through the traffic any quicker than the rest of us, but I’m pretty certain that he is on the fast track to somewhere. Oh, I know … right to the cardiac arrest unit. All I could think of was, “Wow! I’m glad I’m not your heart! I can’t imagine the strain that poor little ticker is under.” Then I remembered … and then, I remembered. And I thought, “Even better, I’m really glad I’m not your wife!” That’s when I realized that no matter how bad my day gets, it will never be as bad as it was. Now that’s how to Zen!
Posted on: Sat, 07 Sep 2013 15:37:20 +0000
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