Rage!
Yearly, hundreds are killed in accidents that are directly caused by anger; thousands more are seriously injured. In England last year, 250,000 motorists were physically assaulted by other drivers. To my knowledge, no one has compiled a total of the roadside assaults in America, but the number must be astronomical. According to Dr. Leon James, professor of psychology at the University of Hawaii, everyone experiences moments of unreasoning anger while behind the wheel of a motorized vehicle. It's called road rage.

Gary Addis
Associate Editor

If you blow upon a spark it quickens into flame,

If you spit on it, it dies out;

Yet both you do with your mouth!

The Bible, Sirach 28:12

Christ, I was tired. Could hardly keep my eyes focused. I don't often push myself past the point of exhaustion, but my load was hot. Not the normal hot, you understand. Shippers use the hot stamp rather indiscriminately, as we all know. But when a dispatcher I respect admits that he dispatched late and pleads that his job is on the line, well, call me a fool, I hurry up every chance I get. The four-wheelers and the traffic signals and the construction zones and the speed cops conspired to make me late, however.

Irritated by one delay after another, I tried to stay cool, calm and collected. Lots of other folks seemed to be in a foul mood also. People were honking horns and shaking fists. It was only a matter of time, I knew, before somebody lurched forward to cut somebody off, and crunched a fender. Eventually, some angry someone would roll down his window and curse the wrong someone, and the situation would escalate into warfare. And someone might die.

ROAD RAGE

Yearly, hundreds are killed in accidents that are directly caused by anger; thousands more are seriously injured. In England last year, 250,000 motorists were physically assaulted by other drivers. To my knowledge, no one has compiled a total of the roadside assaults in America, but the number must be astronomical. According to Dr. Leon James, professor of psychology at the University of Hawaii, everyone experiences moments of unreasoning anger while behind the wheel of a motorized vehicle. It's called road rage.

Action resulting from the momentary madness labeled road rage can be severe, or mild; it can range from a relatively innocuous upraised birdie finger to the insanity of slamming brakes and the sudden whipsawing of steering wheels.

Is it something in the rarified air along the freeways that causes people to momentarily lose their minds? There's a plethora of reasons for all this anger. Frustrations in our personal lives, certainly. The pressures of modern commerce. Late night movies that cause people to oversleep. According to a report issued by the AAA Foundation for Traffic Safety, the chief culprit is the car itself: the raw power a motorized vehicle makes available to otherwise essentially powerless poeople.

Behind the wheel of this, your very own, very private little universe, you decide when to accelerate, when to turn and where, when to slow down. On a freeway, you have two or more lanes. Sure, you're sharing the road with countless others. But everyone is happily doing their own thing.

Because today's cars react so quickly to the slightest pressure on the pedals and steering wheel, inexperienced drivers are easily fooled into thinking their skills are superior to those of the guy in the next car. Believing in their infallibility/invincibility, they therefore feel justified in taking more chances than the average driver. The truly skilled watch out for these fools, however. You and God and the mother in the red Chevy back off just in time, allowing the idiot in the blue Hyundai to avoid the slow pickup. You and the young lady tsk tsk and shake your heads, smiling, secure in the knowledge that you are a smart defensive driver.

And then you drop over a hill or drive through a curve and you're presented with a carpet of glowing red lights. For ten minutes or so, all patiently await their turn to inch forward. As if someone has turned a switch, all at once drivers begin weaving in and out of lanes for no apparent reason. Tempers begin to flare. Timid people become progressively more aggressive; normally aggressive individuals become raging maniacs. The babies in the red Chevy begin to fidget; the mother spies a break in the traffic and whips directly into your path. You slam on the brakes. Seething, you silently curse the stupidity. A second car cuts you off and a tidal wave of anger rolls in.

Anger is the most seductive of the negative emotions; the inner monologue that propels it along fills the mind with convincing arguments for the venting of rage. Anger is energizing, even exhilarating. Danger, even the psychologically perceived danger to self-esteem encountered on the highway, leads to a release of the flight or fight stress hormones, the so-called “rage rush.” Anger is a shark that feeds on anger. As the emotions begin to simmer, rage erupts into violence because enraged people cannot easily be reasoned with; they are oblivious to the consequences of their actions. Unfortunately, no one is immune to road rage.

THE CURE

Road rage is a habit acquired in childhood. American children are reared in a highly mobile culture that condones irate reactions to the normal stress of driving. Our children are not stupid: they notice that grownups act differently while behind the wheel of a car; that even their sweet, gentle grandma curses like a sailor when someone cuts her off or steals her parking space. By the time they get their own driver's license, adolescents have witnessed hundreds of instances of road rage. The road rage habit can be unlearned, but it takes more than conventional driver's education courses.

Not everyone who allows himself to be aroused to anger acts on it, thank God. Some keep it reined in. Or so they think. Returning to an earlier analogy, anger is a shark, and it devours its young. The residue of all those stress hormones that flooded the brain during the traffic backup remain active for hours, resulting in a continuing drop in energy levels. Which affects a driver's attention span. Which makes him more dangerous to himself and others several hours down the road.

As any medical doctor will tell you, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. Consciously striving to increase your own tolerance for the foibles of others is the only cure for your own road rage. As my father often remarked, “Patience is a virtue, my son.”

But you're not the problem, are you?¾ It's the other guy. Then be a part of the solution. Be aware that at least one out of every ten drivers is a fused powder keg. Don't you be the spark that sets the explosion off. When you witness acts of aggression, simply back off. Don't make eye contact; don't flip him the bird. In other words, live and let live. You aren't a cop, it isn't your job to “teach him a lesson.”

CB RAGE

We'd all agree, I'm sure, that citizens band radio is a great tool for travelers. But in immature hands, a microphone can incite a riot. Aging kids burp, clutter the highway channels with weird toy-noise, laugh like hyenas, talk nonstop for three hundred miles and otherwise demonstrate their lack of a proper upbringing. Which seriously annoys everyone within listening range. Which leads to what we'll label C.B. rage. For the professional driver this form of rage is particularly virulent. If an automobile annoys you, chances are you can't catch him; your reaction ends before it begins. But if the other person is equipped with “ears,” your angry outburst followed by his angry retort followed by...well, you get the idea.

THE SOLUTION

Think about it. Why would a grown man so willingly demonstrate his ignorance over the radio? The only theory that makes any sense is lack of self-esteem. If you blow on a flame you increase its intensity; if you spank a masochist, he tingles with happiness. Likewise, if you respond to his/her belligerent rantings you increase the feeling of power an idiot gains from such a safe, anonymous confrontation. Unless you win the battle of wits, of course. In which case, to rebuild his wounded ego, the antagonist will call you a coward if you don't “pull it over, driver, and let's settle this man to man.”

As I told one the other day, although I am short and small, I am a man and I know it. Apparently he wasn't a man, because he felt such an overpowering need to demonstrate it. No, I don't have to prove anything to anybody.

My fifteen-year-old son is a heavyweight Golden Gloves boxing champion. He could knock me on my keister, no doubt. But he is not yet a man and he is wise enough to know it. The essence of manhood is not the ability to kick ass. Nor is it the owning of the biggest radio on the block. Manhood/womanhood is judged solely by how well we handle responsibility. By how respectful we are of the rights of others. Don't be suckered into a war that will have no winner.