ROAD RAGE MAKES ME ANGRY!

By William Burleson

Yesterday in downtown Minneapolis, a city I have lived in all my life, I turned left from Park

Avenue onto 7th Street. Think about it: I was driving down 7th street at rush hour the wrong

direction. Of course I didn’t go very far, but that doesn’t matter: I’m doomed to the humiliation

of being stuck on the side of the street facing the wrong direction until I can figure out how to get

myself turned around.

So there I sat, when a thought occurred to me: you know, people are pretty bad drivers.

Boy, there are some real doozies out there. Unfortunately, at that moment, I was one of those

doozies.

I hate moments like this. Not just the car situation, but moments of clarity. It is so much

easier for me to simply believe that there is a group of people out there who are “bad drivers”

that I, of course, am not a member. The people in that club have names such as “Stupid kids!”

“What a ditz!” “Hang up and drive!” “Hurry up grandpa!” and “What’s the rush!” I have been

known, on occasion, to utter their names in traffic at considerable volume.

But here’s the punch line: on occasion we are all one of those bad drivers. Who hasn’t

had a lapse of attention when driving and ended up going the wrong way on a one-way street?

Ok, of not that, how about running a stop sign? Not noticed the light turned green? Miss a “no

turn on red” sign? Certainly, some drivers are better than others, but we all have our moments.

Sometimes otherwise smart, capable people do dumb things, like drive down 7th street the wrong

direction.

Yet it is so easy to get upset with other drivers and to forget our own indiscretions.

Perhaps driving wouldn’t be so upsetting if we put ourselves in other’s shoes (or tires). After all,

sometimes the other person is you.

Which reminds me of an “aha!” moment I had about road-rage from several years ago. A

friend and I were complaining about how bad driving in traffic is. I said, “There I was, going the

speed limit in the right lane, and that so-in-so was riding my bumper all the way.” My friend

said, “I hear ya. Traffic is terrible. On the way here I was stuck behind some guy just poking

along. I thought I’d never get here.” It occurred to me that we were talking about each other.

Perhaps not literally, but we might as well have been.

That guy who cut you off, the old lady driving under the speed limit, the guy tail-gating

you, the woman talking on the cell phone unable to stay in her lane, and the SUV running the red

light. Does it make you mad? How do you address other driver? Is it the same as if you were

face to face? How about if you knew it was your neighbor? Your mother? You?

We cannot scream at our next-door neighbor that he is a “bleeping idiot” like we can with

a complete stranger in traffic, a person we don’t know and plan on never getting to know. The

anonymity of driving gives us license to behave in ways we would be ashamed of in any other

circumstance. Participation in our community enforces civility in order for us to function as a

group, and when we loose that connection we are given license for bad behavior. Seeing other

people as not like us or as strangers who are doing something to us, gives some the feeling of

permission to be abusive and even commit crimes such as assault, murder, flying planes into

buildings, and invading various countries.

So I think it best to look at myself in the rearview mirror before flying off the handle and

saying things I would regret in any other circumstance or behave in ways that would embarrass

me if I were to be seen. Before I think everyone else is to blame, that they are all idiots, I need to

remember driving the wrong way down 7th. I have seen the idiot: he is I.

William Burleson, Minneapolis, is a freelance writer.