Well, you would, wouldn’t you, BILL DOOR.
When I was on vacation in Washington, DC, I chanced to take a local commuter train that ran for a stretch right next to a slow-moving multi-lane highway. On the train, we were moving much faster than the cars, and I could see the faces of the drivers in the crawling cars. I was glad I was zipping past them, and I wondered how they felt, looking back at me.
Every day on their slow commute, they may have pondered their choice to be in a car.
Not stuck, but driving with my Mom to the Tunbridge Fair in September 2009. Winding through Vermont, both of us singing along to Meat Loaf, I see something by the road. It takes a moment to register and I saw to Mom “Was that a ham?!” Mom: “<bwah!> That’s what I thought!”
It’s a sweet memory because it was the last visit before she died. The Fair featured the rarely-spoken “OK, meet you by the pig races!”
Oh, and recently I saw a baseball cap in the middle of the highway, exactly centered on the white line facing back where traffic was coming from, almost like it had to placed that perfectly.