Putting the Pedal to the Metal

I asked the receptionist if she grew up
in the area. “No, Saint Louis. I left
because of the traffic.” I asked the
woman who guided me back to the

physician’s office if she grew up
in the area. “No, Detroit, actually Novi.
I left because of the traffic.” And my
wife and I? We’re thinking about leaving

Phoenix, our winter home, in part because
of the traffic, and the traffic is even
getting bad around here. What about the
traffic? Too much, too fast, too rude,

too dangerous? The desire for a slower
paced life in a smaller city? The in-
vulnerability and anonymity a seat sur-
rounded by aluminum, plastic and steel

gives so one can get aggressive and let
out all one’s frustrations, anger and
anxiety on the guy next to you, or the
woman ahead of you with the simple press-

ing of a pedal to give one the feeling
of power in a land of powerlessness?
Road rage? All of the above? All of the
above.

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