They, the ubiquitous They, are everywhere. But of course They are all over because They are .. ubiquitous. Enough of chasing my own tail when I could be chasing the pick-up that passed me in a tight curve in spite of the fact no passing was allowed. They are in such a hurry so They pass others, and me, and end up just a few feet from my front bumper at the light. They remain in front of me as glaring proof that the few seconds gained add + up to = nothing, even in the short run.

But They aren't getting it. Even when I wave happily at them at every stop, for miles, to remind Them of Their awesome gain. I suspect They don't check Their rearview's, but mostly I think They believe They are either the most important people on the roads ("Outta my way, I'm in a hummveeeee!!"), or the ONLY ones on the roads.

The rest of us peons just don't exist. Which may explain why They don't seem to notice my hand gesticulations.

It used to be a nice drive here; could pull out of my driveway onto the road and never look, there were that few vehicles. Now, I need a freakin' light if I want to cross. A regular speedway going on with the idiots ripping up air east and west at 80 mph passing each other and sometimes, ending up in a ditch. Nice, deep ditches since the county came through and volunteered 365 hard-earned dollars out of my pocket into theirs so I could have: a deep ditch. A good thing to have while in a drought and even better to have in conjunction with the new culvert so copious amounts of dust can billow in and out instead of being forced through by high winds like a sand blaster.

You'd think more of Them would be dead. Sadly, They cause the problems and, due to Their great speed, are gone in a flash happy belted tightly to Their arrogant ignorance of the consequences to Their actions.

I used to ride my bicycle on these roads. Used to be a safe pedal, the five miles to the nearest town, but no longer. Huge tractor-trailers by the hundreds bang by at the mandated break-neck-speeds mowing down raccoon, rabbit, deer and bird alike as if they were but snowflakes not worthy of notice. However, this manner of traffic doesn't dissuade yuppies from gaggling into bicycling groups and taking up a quarter of the road in Their annual joy ride "in the country". I am torn between who, trucker or yuppie, I'd like to prevail when the two meet in a tight curve.

At the end of the day what I'd like each and every motorist and bicyclist in a fifty mile radius to know is: Get the FECK off my planet. You're driving me mad!