One of things I’ve learned to love about Maine is the fact that no one seems to be in a rush (unless they’re me and aren’t morning people and tend to leave the house 5 minutes late on a regular basis). As a California native, I’ve sat in my fair share of gnarly traffic… as in: 70-mile commute turns 2-hour trip. I’d learned to navigate from Hollywood by way of Route 101 to the 10 to the 710 to the 405 to the 241 toll road. That, and my GPS was equipped with traffic alerts. Green = go. Yellow = delay (indicated estimated delay, usually 15 min or so) and Red = PARKING LOT. SEEK ALTERNATIVE ROUTE UNLESS YOU BROUGHT YOUR AUDIOBOOK! So…really, I used my GPS as my own personal traffic alert more than a map. But I’ve learned that with a little Kenny-G and some easy listening tunes, I find some zen and can just enjoy the ride for the most part.
Anyway.
The traffic alert system in my GPS doesn’t even kick in up here until I hit Massachusetts, which I find a little adorable. Case in point: Maine doesn’t have traffic to speak of.
“Rush Hour” = 10 minutes in Portland. It’s a kitten compared to the metropolis of Boston, Chicago, Baltimore, DC, Atlanta, NYC, San Diego, Orange County, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Seattle…
It should be a widely-known fact of life that yours truly suffers from road rage and impatience when it comes to traffic. This is not a new issue. It’s unfortunate, but the reality is that Cute Girl in the Cute Car with the Cute Sunglasses is actually using language that would make a priest blush. But it makes me feel better to know that I can rant and rave without repercussion, because unless you’re sitting in my passenger seat, you can’t hear me. Ah, the joys of “privacy”.
The construction on the 295 that makes me sit for more than 15 minutes at 10pm? That makes me upset. Traffic that makes my 20 minute commute more like an HOUR AND FIFTEEN MINUTES? That just straight-up makes me a grouch. Cmon, if I knew I was going to be in traffic, I would have 1) left earlier and 2) arranged for a carpool, because in bigger cities … the carpool lane is a beautiful thing.
To the guy in the blue Prius that laid on his horn for 10 minutes straight?
RELAX.
Traffic is NOT moving. Put on an audio-book or tune in to 94.7 and listen to something soothing.
Be the epitome of a real Mainer: calm. Lacking in urgency. I’m just saying … this is not New York City. If I wanted to be honked at, I’d risk life and limb and drive around Times Square.
Here’s to a cheery Thursday!
–Taryn “Diego” Bruette
Hey Diego–it’s “295″ not “THE 295.” (My lil sis, who lived in Cali for a time, constantly introduces highways now with a “THE.”) LOVE your “awayness!”