Road Rage(ahol)

Homer (Simpson, not the epic writer) said, “I’m a rage-aholic! I’m addicted to rage-ahol!”

Well, I am addicted to road rage-ahol. Yes, sadly, I’m a road rager. Most of the time outside an automobile, I can keep my anger in check, but for some reason behind the wheel, all logic ceases and I become a mindless machine fueled by anger as my car is fueled by gasoline. I mean, if everyone was as phenomenal a driver as me, then it wouldn’t be a problem. At least that is my rationale.

To delve into a little “Angela psych,” I think I do it as an anonymous outlet. I can yell, slam the steering wheel, cuss, all the while the object of my anger is unaware and ultimately drives away, my rage trailing behind them in a cloudy haze of dust and exhaust fumes. And it’s over. I can vent, get it out, be the center of my world when I usually feel like an outsider, and be done with it. No consequences, no confrontations, no hurt feelings.

Occasionally, in the midst of such outbursts in my car, I catch myself. I realize how ridiculous it is, that it’s not worth the increase heart rate, take a breath, laugh, and move on. And sometimes, I say things I’m glad no one else can hear. Today, I said one of those things. Now be prepared. I didn’t think before I spoke. I just reacted and these are the words that came spilling out of my mouth in my latest rage-ahol incident.

“Hurry up and go, BEAN HEAD!”

I erupted in laughter as suddenly and intensely as the anger that had flooded me seconds before. Seriously, who says bean head? And if you are going to say bean head, would you really want to do it in red-eyed, ears-steaming anger? I repeated aloud, as not only a statement, but a question: bean head!?, followed by another burst of riotous laughter. When I came to, I had been sitting at the stop sign while there was no cross traffic. When I glanced in my rear view mirror, I could have sworn the guy behind me said “Go, bean head!!” I gassed my maroon beauty, made my left hand turn, and as I drove away, I saw a haze of anger in my rear view mirror and I felt a smile spread across on my face.

Airplane Blog: Random Scribbles from Heaven

As I coast in this great man-made bird miles about the stable ground I love so very dearly, especially now, I am reminded of my mortality. Yes, I am trying to tame my irrational fear of imminent death. I focus instead on the amazement of this great feat of flight and am suddenly struck by something so obvious. Perhaps the sheer obviousness is why I often miss things, but my thought is precisely: Someone once dreamed flight was possible. Even in the midst of raging skepticism, someone fought for this. And here I am, floating on wings of metal, clouds, and air currents, farther above the earth that I would prefer to be, living in someone else’s dream. Because they imagined, I can experience. Heaven is right outside my plexiglass window, reflecting in the sun-soaked cottony clouds. Somewhere in the midst of my thoughts, I am no longer afraid, only amazed. Then I realize one more crucial piece of life: I want to dream that big. I want to imagine that great. And I am the only one stopping myself…..