“Forty miles-per-hour? The speed limit is fifty…are you serious?” Of course, this was only the first of a flurry of comments that spewed from my mouth as I drove near the bumper of the “Ya-hoot” (as I kindly referred to him) in front of me. I was on my way to a speaking engagement and this guy was obviously on his way nowhere. And, as perfectly spaced on-coming cars kept me from passing, I found myself stuck, following him nowhere for what seemed like an eternity -- until finally, his left blinker flashed. “Yes!” I shouted, with freedom in sight. Then ... it happened; he decided to play it safe and wait until the lone car, still a quarter mile away and practically crawling toward us, had passed. It was all I could take. On the brink of a melt down I gunned it, swerved right, and flew past him leaving only inches between the two vehicles, while both tires spun through the yard on the right. As I passed the car, still mumbling under my breath, my wife flashed a look of astonished disgust at me -- then shared a few well-deserved words of reprimand regarding my behavior.
Within minutes I was calmly driving the speed limit again reflecting upon what had just happened -- and the irony in it.