road
When I drive alone, I am aggressive enough to be unsafe. That should worry those who care for me. I am not sure why. Getting on the 880 North from Jackson St-going home. On that entrance, there is a merger from people coming from San Mateo. I was ahead of a large van, which was coming closer to me. I decided to speed up to stay ahead. It still was coming ahead of me. I became aggressive. I pressed the pedal harder, pushing the tachometer needle close to the red zone. I could feel the pedal resisting.
The van was nearly head to head with me, but at that point, it slowed down. I was ahead again, and right at the end when the merger narrowed. I risked an unpleasant collision just to prove a point-which the fellow in the van may or may not have gotten. He might have been thinking, "What's your problem?"
My posture relaxed. I saw a car ahead of me merging into my lane. I slowed down to let it go.
It seems my behavior is more trying to keep cars in line, as if the whole concept of merging depended on not cutting in line, like at the post office, the airport, or any generic bureaucratic building where lines form. It might matter if there was an emergency, but I felt this van was annoyingly gratuitous-a judgment I made in the blink of an eye. There was no forethought, no consideration. Like blurting out a word that I later regret, I do it before I think.
Whence came this tantrum? Why did I care? This brief moment of rage I do regret even if the result was inconsequential-I did not crash, cause delays, and create acrimony with other drivers. But I could have. I deeply wish I had not done that, and I wonder why I cannot prevent myself from doing it again. Is it because this bellicose part of me wants to order the world, like an efficient assembly line-people have their turns. I refuse to trust that people are messy, incoherent, and self-willed. I did not think of the reasons he (or she, as there can be aggressive female drivers too) might be in a hurry.
This is why I don't like to drive. There are people who love the road for what it feels like to them-Freedom! Distance! Road trip! Destination! Zen-like trance! Commuting! Relaxation! Power! Independence! Expression of Liberty!
It feels to me like the expression of the worst kinds of human impulses. Even worse, the automatic shift ensures no calculations need to be made, whereas stick-shift requires using the clutch to change gears-giving enough time to make you wonder whether an action you're about to take is worth the effort.
When I was 16, I never thought much about driving. I knew it was something that teenagers look forward to, as much as getting their own cars. I knew that it was something children want (especially on TV, where it is portrayed as an American rite); I saw driving as a skill that I should learn, just so I know it, just in case I must use it. But did I want it? No. Other factors, including knowing that cars contributed to global warming, made me hesitate. When I first heard about the electric cars, I wanted it, even though I heard other people ridiculing the limited battery life. When I heard about the Toyota Prius and the Honda Insight, I wanted them. But I had no income-
The van was nearly head to head with me, but at that point, it slowed down. I was ahead again, and right at the end when the merger narrowed. I risked an unpleasant collision just to prove a point-which the fellow in the van may or may not have gotten. He might have been thinking, "What's your problem?"
My posture relaxed. I saw a car ahead of me merging into my lane. I slowed down to let it go.
It seems my behavior is more trying to keep cars in line, as if the whole concept of merging depended on not cutting in line, like at the post office, the airport, or any generic bureaucratic building where lines form. It might matter if there was an emergency, but I felt this van was annoyingly gratuitous-a judgment I made in the blink of an eye. There was no forethought, no consideration. Like blurting out a word that I later regret, I do it before I think.
Whence came this tantrum? Why did I care? This brief moment of rage I do regret even if the result was inconsequential-I did not crash, cause delays, and create acrimony with other drivers. But I could have. I deeply wish I had not done that, and I wonder why I cannot prevent myself from doing it again. Is it because this bellicose part of me wants to order the world, like an efficient assembly line-people have their turns. I refuse to trust that people are messy, incoherent, and self-willed. I did not think of the reasons he (or she, as there can be aggressive female drivers too) might be in a hurry.
This is why I don't like to drive. There are people who love the road for what it feels like to them-Freedom! Distance! Road trip! Destination! Zen-like trance! Commuting! Relaxation! Power! Independence! Expression of Liberty!
It feels to me like the expression of the worst kinds of human impulses. Even worse, the automatic shift ensures no calculations need to be made, whereas stick-shift requires using the clutch to change gears-giving enough time to make you wonder whether an action you're about to take is worth the effort.
When I was 16, I never thought much about driving. I knew it was something that teenagers look forward to, as much as getting their own cars. I knew that it was something children want (especially on TV, where it is portrayed as an American rite); I saw driving as a skill that I should learn, just so I know it, just in case I must use it. But did I want it? No. Other factors, including knowing that cars contributed to global warming, made me hesitate. When I first heard about the electric cars, I wanted it, even though I heard other people ridiculing the limited battery life. When I heard about the Toyota Prius and the Honda Insight, I wanted them. But I had no income-