and she said.. "how you interpret the dream is probably more important than the dream itself"

The problem with driving is that I can only really enjoy it if nobody is in my way. I think that's a product of growing up in a rural area where traffic jam means two cars in front of you in the grocery store parking lot. So when I am presented with anything akin to real traffic I lose my cool pretty quickly. If I'm alone in my vehicle then the the seething hatred for idiot drivers stays bottled up inside, only spurting out at the seams in the form of zig-zag manuevers when I just can't take it anymore. If I'm with someone, however, they must sadly suffer my wrath that is truly intended for the other drivers - flaming curses, Stocato explitives..

"Fucken!" ... "GODamn mmrumblegrumble" ... "assHOLE!"

And you know what it really all comes down to? Common courtesy. I'm not really worried about getting where I'm going immediately and I'm not even concerned about speeding about, being in front of people just for shits and giggles. What I am concerned about are idiots who drive below the speed limit in the passing lane with their left blinker eternally winking away at me. What I am concerned about are drivers who pull out in front of fast-approach traffic, pedestrians who don't walk but crawl across the road, morons who don't realize the purpose of signals, and assholes who tailgate you even though you're stuck behind just one fewer car than they are.

It's a matter of courtesy. Common courtesy. Not extravagent special treatment courtesy. Not royal your-highness courtesy. Not even upper-middle class courtesy (though I'm not sure if that kind exists).. we're just talking about common courtesy here.

Even if you're not a driver you probably know what I'm talking about. If you've ever walked down a busy city street only to find yourself side-stepping oblivious window shoppers blocking your way or portly diners basking in their post-coital glow, shuffling along and staring idiotically at the stars, then you know what I'm talking about. Inconsiderate walkers. Pedestrians of a nefarious ilk. The selfish footian. Never am I more incensed than when a group of two or three stroll down the sidewalk hip-to-hip, chitter-chattering away as if I do not even exist. Not a one backing off or quickening their step in order to make room for traffic coming in the opposite direction (nevermind those heading hurriedly in the same direction trying to get by them). These are the sidewalk bourgeios. The fat-cats of the footpaths. The assholes in Asics.

In short: Jerks.

And if you're wondering if the countryside may be the perfect spot for a brief respite from such heathen you are only partly correct in your assumption. For here it is that the roles are reversed. By foot you are in constant danger of bored teenagers racing at break-neck speeds down narrow rural roads in their parents pseudo-sports sedans; Audis with "sport tuned" suspensions and heated seats. However, by car you are subject to bounding bambis, horton hedgehogs, and bradley badgers. On wet rainy nights?.. even Frog and Toad.

Travel, I fear, is simply wrought with danger no matter your form of transport; the danger of infuriating nuisance, the danger of the most hideous of all indecencies: The lack of common courtesy. Can I blame the occasional spoiled brat testing the limits of his father's new 32-valve behemoth? Hardly. Can I blame those venerable old men from my childhood fairytales Frog and Toad? Barely.

Humans, though, real adult humans with jobs and responsibilities.. is it so much to ask for one more ounce of awareness out of them? Is it far beyond the reaches of the common man to look up, look out, look around him and acknowledge that other people do exist.. that they need space to move?

Perhaps I should relax. Let loose. Count to ten, say amen, scream "Serenity Now!" and ask the gods for just a little time off. Maybe it's too much to expect out of Donald the dockworker and Sally the seamstress. Maybe, just maybe, they really can't help it.

Who am I to demand such respect - to be treated as an equal? A human being? I am demanding and over-expectant. I think I'm notable enough to be aware of. Valuable enough not to step on. Quotable enough to be keen on. Meritorious?

Common courtesy, it would seem, is in reality far from anything common at all.