“Another working day has ended
Only the rush hour hell to face
Packed like lemmings into shiny metal boxes
Contestants in a suicidal race”
The Police- Synchronicity
I am a commuter. I commute to and from my job each day. I’m not sure what qualifies one as a commuter. Does your drive have to be a certain distance or length of time? Why did someone bother to come up with a name for people who drive to work? Doesn’t that pretty much encompass almost everyone? You know who came up with it? I’m betting it was a bored commuter stuck in traffic on his way to work. Why not come up with name for the odd minority who walk, ride their bikes, or take a bus to work? Oh, that’s right, we already have a name for them. Losers! I’m just kidding of course. I resent the wasted time I spend in my car and I would love a 5-minute bike ride to work with the wind blowing through my flowing locks and the bugs and car exhaust blowing through my teeth. Memo to cyclists: Having wheels does not mean you belong on the road. If there’s a sidewalk get your lycra shorts ass up on it before we hit you.
The speed limit also poses a special challenge for commuters. Well, it’s not the limit itself that is challenging. In fact I find it quite easy to surpass. That’s not much of a challenge at all. The challenge is coping with the commuters who obey the speed limit as if some deity carved it in stone on the hoods of their cars. (Don’t try to understand that last sentence. It just sounded good in my head) My philosophy is this: We only have so much time to live, and I don’t want to waste any more than I have to trapped inside a mobile tin can. I want to get where I’m going so I can enjoy what I plan to do when I get there, whether it be watching a sunset, talking to a friend, or feeling the sweet release of sending my morning coffee back out into that great big world. I fiercely resent anyone who steals precious moments of my life by impeding my ability to get where I want to go as quickly as possible. If you speed limit compulsives enjoy time in your car so much, then park it at home and sit in it. Preferably with the engine running and garden hose going from the exhaust to the driver’s side window.
The great philosopher called “They” say that you shouldn’t be so focused on your destination and “you should stop and smell the roses.” Here’s a newsflash for “they”: There are no roses by the side of I-90 heading into the city! If I stop to smell the roses a homeless person will probably run up and try to clean my windshield. Then again, if he can pry that cyclist off my bumper I’ll be glad to give him a dollar.
“They” wasnt a philsopher wierdo…”They” was What the Romans referred to the Gauls as. The romans didnt view the gauls as humans, and didnt feel that they were worthy of a propoer name, so they called them “they”.
Can I car pool with you ?LOLGreeneyes
Bad day on the road, eh?
I always take speed limits with a grain of salt…I’m pretty sure they don’t apply to ME anyway.p.s. “wind blowing through my flowing locks” do you have to don a wig to get that affect?
homeless people and bicyclists, how lucky are you? i see tractors, cows and school buses…all have a tendency to go very slow…
Princess- Way to suck the life out of a joke. You must be great fun at parties. I can’t believe you’re still single!Green-Eyed- Welcome to the phil factor. Just tell me where to pick you up!Geewits- Seriously, I love listening to the radio in the car, but only if I want to, not if I’m stuck.Tai-No really, my locks do flow!Doni- I guess I should appreciate what I have. At least I have lots of things to look at during my ride.
Between your “memo to cyclists” and your comments on those who obey speed limits…I can tell already I’m gonna enjoy the heck out of visiting your blog…Yay for sixpack picks!…
Hi Jessica- Welcome to the phil factor. It’s nice to meet you.
Damn that traffic jam,How I hate to be late,By the time I get homemy supper be cold. Damn that traffic jam.James Taylor “Traffic Jam”
I work night shift, so getting to work is not the problem.Coming home from my hour and a half drive is a different story. Between the road work, the cyclists, and the joggers, I’m lucky to make it home in two hours.Of course, they are lucky that in my sleepy state, I don’t knock them off the road and just keep on going.
hey what’s this cycling thing all about anyways… seriously – i mean… hey – riding your bike is just fine and dandy – but what the heck! they seem to choose the most congested, dangerous roads – and then you’re supposed to yield to THEM… i mean – here in alabama – these folks ride their bikes on roads that are dangerous for CARS – let alone for people who have no manner of steel box for protection – only lycra and a yellow sticker on their styrofoam helmets.i’m confused by this. and always a little tempted to open my car door as i drive by and take one of the bike riding fools OUT
Goodnight Nurse!- Welcome to the phil factor!It sounds like I must pass you on my drive to work in the morning!Amy- In Alabama isn’t it legal to hunt people anyway?
Phil, YOU Are the reason I am still single…you made it your mission to find me a boyfriend…whatever happened to that, eh?
I’m working on it Princess. I never said it would be easy!