One way to stand traffic hell

“I am in traffic hell,” I said to my friend over my cell phone Friday right before the I-64 split off I-75 a few miles before Lexington, Kentucky,

I didn’t expect this traffic. It was 3:45. What was everyone doing off work already?

The miles of orange barrels cutting off the left lane, merging traffic from the right, another highway merging in from the left, plus every tractor trailer truck available to humankind had created five-miles-an-hour to no-miles-an-hour speed. Walking would have been faster.

Just three hours prior I had avoided traffic hell in Columbus by taking an alternative route out of the city. Due to construction, I-71 has turned into a mess at Exit 17. I also had braved on during a torrential downpour when I made it as far as the “Florence Y’all” water tower in Florence, Kentucky. I was making good time on my way to Harrogate, Tennessee—until right before Lexington.

That’s when it felt like I had been transported to Los Angeles where traffic is often choked up for hours on the freeways. If I had bubbles, I would have blown them.

A good friend of mine used this strategy to keep from getting steamed whenever he was stuck in L.A. traffic. Once when I was visiting him, he shared the technique.

  • Open the car window.
  • Open a bottle of bubbles, the kind you can buy about anywhere-or make your own out of a mix of dish soap and water.
  • Put the wand inside the bottle to get the right amount of liquid
  • Put your hand holding the wand out the window to let the breeze make the bubbles and carry them away.

The slower you go, the better this works. This, in essence, is reverse psychology. In a sick sort of way, you actually WANT to go slow.

The fun part about this blowing-bubbles-in-traffic activity is the reactions you get from other motorists. As bubbles floated over my friend’s car across the highway, people laughed, clapped, gave us a thumbs up and honked. Traffic had turned fun.

Yesterday, though, on I-75 south, it was hell— until I called my girlfriend who lives in Sturbridge, Massachusetts, a sleepy, quiet town. When I said “traffic hell,” she had one word, “Boston.” Then added, “Traffic. It’s why I moved out of there.”

Come to think of it, my friend who used to live in Los Angeles, now lives in Butte, Montana, a place that also is traffic-jam free. Since I live in Columbus, all I have to do is to keep remembering to avoid Exit 17.

To those of you heading past Lexington–bubbles.

Here’s a post I found about the therapy of bubble blowing. It works in more than traffic.

Ode to Evel Knievel

My 5 year-old told me Evel Knievel died. He and his dad, (yes, my husband) were watching videos of Eve’s stunts at the time. Hearing of his death prompted them to turn to the Web to watch Eve’s antics.

This summer we went to our 2nd Evel Knievel Days in Butte, Montana. Evel is from there, and the town has taken that to heart. Good for Butte that someone with some pizazz is from there. Some celebrities sort of fade away, and whatever festival occurred when they were alive peter out. Not so for Evel Knievel Days. I expect next year’s crowd could even get bigger.

There are some events that take a person by surprise. This was one of them. Okay, so my kids got all wired up on Monster Energy, that new drink that debuted sometime in June or July. They were gulping it down, one can after another since one booth was handing it out free, and the weather was hotter than the blazes. My husband finally read the label’s warning against giving it to kids, particularly young ones. It’s LOADED with caffeine. I’ve nixed Mountain Dew awhile back for the same reason. My son was a jabbering nut case (not really, this is an exaggeration, but it did seem he was talking faster than usual, and he’s a talker.)

But, back to Evel Knieval Days. (see previous post) This is much more of a high brow event than I expected. I thought it would be a tough- talking crowd, and dicey with the family fare aspect. Nope. Not so. Bring the gang. Grandma and Grandpa included. Of course, I only went during the day, so I can’t vouch for the night crowd. I expect it’s fairly tame, although with a bit more drinking–not Monster Energy drink, but beer.

This summer we did see Evel. He pulled up in his chauffeured car to address the crowd waiting for one of the dare devil stunts to happen. One of the things I liked was the flash. He was not a big guy, but he sure had a presence that still has a huge following. The daredevils out there are not diminishing.

This summer my son asked if he could be a daredevil. He’s still asking. Just last Wednesday when I picked him up at his school bus stopped, the first thing he said when he got in the car was, “Can I be a daredevil when I grow up.”

My response? “Maybe.”

Thanks, Evel.