On Vehicular Personality Disorder

       One thing that never fails to fascinate me is how getting behind the wheel of a car has a tendency to alter a person's personality.
       For some reason, it can incite a near-Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde-ian metamorphosis which will turn even the nicest person into a domineering hose beast-on-wheels. And contrary to what some individuals might say, it is by no means limited to members of the female persuasion driving SUV's.
       No, the issue is far, far more insidious and widespread than that.
       The drive to work today was a prime example. What I can only describe as a nice-looking senior lady driving a Honda Accord (boasting a sticker reading "Coexist") was swerving in and out of lanes, narrowly avoiding the freeway median and several other drivers by margins measured in inches, not feet. The sticker must belong to someone else, I thought, since she surely wasn't about to make any statements supporting peaceful coexistence in a multi-lane environment.
       On the other end of the spectrum, a Jeep from New Hampshire (with "Live free or die" clearly stated on the license plate as the state's motto), and "Semper Fidelis" USMC stickers on the bumper, was casually rolling along at fifteen miles per hour under the posted speed limit. Under normal circumstances, I would simply attribute such behavior to the fact that this person is obviously from out of town, and is probably trying to find some sense of direction in the streets of my city, which were apparently planned by the Cheshire Cat.
       Yes, that would have been an easy dismissal to make on many streets. Freeways, on the other hand, make that a much, much more difficult thing to do. Especially when on a stretch with no exits for four miles in either direction and while driving in the far right hand lane (reserved for HOV drivers) while casually puffing on a cigarette (that I hope was filled with tobacco).  
       One shot, one kill, indeed. When he finally arrives at his destination, after being potentially waylaid by a number of fast food restaurants immediately off the exit.
       I move that we call this phenomenon “Vehicular Personality Disorder” and begin pharmaceutical research for a regulating agent immediately.  I’m sure that the big drug companies would love the profits coming from nearly every driver on the road being prescribed the product for the duration of their driving lives, and lobbyists could definitely pitch the concept on the angle of “safer streets.”  I’ll have to write my local member of Congress about it in the near future.
       Because I swear to God, the next person that cuts me off is getting rear-ended and run off the road.