Traffic Jams

I grew up largely in Los Angeles. I got my driver's license the day I turned 16 (like any respectable Los Angelean). Up until about twelve years ago I had lived my entire life in one part of California or another. So I know about traffic.  I've driven in NYC traffic (you just have to assert yourself sufficiently and ignore taxi drivers at all costs), in Boston traffic (they know the rules of the road, you don't, and they aren't the same rules for everybody anyway), in Chicago traffic (see previous blog entry), in San Francisco traffic (in a manual '86 VW Vanagon no less), among other major cities. I've also negotiated the roads in Italy. So I've experience traffic. Each of these locations require their own set of navigating skills, mostly having to do with attitude. And over the years I have developed a philosophy about traffic and traffic jams; easy to do when one has driven in LA enough--especially in the last several years during the time of "Carmageddon" and "Rampture."

First of all, if you are negotiating a city during a certain time of day (or any time of day in LA) you are likely to be sitting in traffic. So, as Alfred E. Newman said, why worry? It's inevitable, you can't change it, your car isn't going to grow a jet engine a la Batman, hundreds of people will not suddenly decide to exit the road because you are frustrated and in a hurry. To be frustrated and angry and impatient in a traffic jam is a real waste of energy, a real exercise in being resistent, not accepting, even hostile, to what is. And, if you are up on your Buddhism, wanting things to be different from what they are is a cause of great suffering. And yet it is also very human to be frustrated, angry, and impatient in a traffic jam.  What to do? I use it as a practice for life (if you live in LA, traffic is in fact a very big part of your life so you will have plenty of opportunity to practice).

I had an opportunity to practice traffic jam life training just this morning as I took my daughter to the rink. We left in what I thought was plenty of time--35 minutes for a 15 minute drive (my first fatal error). It wasn't long after getting on the freeway that things felt not-so-free. First I practice yelling (anger) at the car in front of me, because it is certainly responsible for me going so slowly. Then, after seeing the helpful travel time sign "169--over 25 minutes" I practice denial: "oh, there's no way it will be that long, it's only 5 miles from here! (I know, I know, denial should come first--but not in traffic!) Then I move swiftly to bargaining: maybe there's an alternative route? And then on to depression (which is sometimes just a repeat of the anger stage, to be honest), "oh my god we are going to be late this is going to just ruin everything" (see previous blog on how I hate being late). Finally, I get to acceptance (sometimes sooner, sometimes later). You know what, it's not a big deal. Let's put on NPR (or 20 on 20 or BBC news or your favorite radio station) and relax and enjoy the excellent time spent alone or in each other's company. 


Nowhere to go, nothing to do, nothing to be. Traffic, it turns out, can be quite liberating if you let it.

The Taco Taxi can come in handy when stuck in a traffic jam on E. Lake Ave.