public service announcement

I’m back from my holiday hiatus. You’ll be happy to know that I spent my four-day Independence Weekend indoors and off the road. There’s really nothing like HGTV and a package (or maybe two) of Double Stufs to make a gal feel relaxed, refreshed, and ready to reclaim the road for the shortened work week ahead.

It wasn’t until I was reminded of classic narrative conflict - man v. merge – that the crabbiness set in.

During my years of Phoenix commutes, I was regularly called up to serve in this epic battle. Oftentimes I could forgive even my most formidable opponents. Their license plates revealed their weakness: they were from Sonora or Chihuahua, or some other Mexican state where the laws or the unspoken rules of the road were perhaps different – I could give them a pass. Or they were from New Mexico or Wyoming where there couldn’t possibly be many cars, and they were likely unfamiliar with the rules of engagement – they too could receive a pass. But now I’m back in the Northeast and I have certain expectations for mergers: specifically, merge and let merge. If you can mastermind a jughandle, then this shouldn't be so hard.

I’d like to share this informative video with those of you who are perhaps…not up to speed on the subject, so to speak:



If you are in a stop-and-go traffic jam situation, please let one car from a merging lane, onramp, or McDonalds parking lot in front of you and your neighbor to the rear should do the same. Even the crabbiest of commuters lets one car in.

Note: ONE CAR.

To the over-friendly freakshow in front of me on the parkway this morning – just because your Xanax just kicked in and you’re feelin’ chill’er than a Rastafarian on a high holy day, you have no excuse to let the entire freakin' Macy's parade into our lane while you coast along like you're at the Six Flags Safari. If I get hit by one of these:



you're going down with me.