The fact that I manage to drive to and from work every day and make it home alive is nearly a miracle. Aside from the aforementioned speeder/tailgaters on the Merritt Parkway, a winding narrow road punctuated every few miles with bouquets of flowers and crosses to mark the death places of the unlucky, there are people driving with newspapers draped over the steering wheel, putting on makeup, talking on the phone while emoting with the other hand, drifting into the breakdown lane as the conversation gets more interesting, and digging under their seats for a pen. They reach into the back seat to stick a pacifier in a baby's mouth, rifle through their glove compartment and change their pants, all while driving 75 miles per hour. And the new thing, texting while driving? Are you kidding me? I can barely text while NOT driving.
And, some of them drive with their knees while talking with both hands (you know who you are).
Maybe if they'd been in as many car accidents as I have, they'd be a little more careful. There's nothing like doing airtime after hitting a pole at 70mph to bring a little caution into your life.
No wonder I felt safer when I lived in the city.
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