Driving around here, you realize that lots of other people are in the same predicament and you all usually spend a lot of time together on highways, usually not going very fast. When I'm stuck in the car for too long, my mind gets bored. When my mind gets bored, it likes to sleep. (People who know me well know that I can sleep on command). Sleeping at the wheel is not good, though I admit that I have come dangerously close.
The remedy, I have found, is to actually focus on driving. But how do you focus on something as monotonous and boring as lifting your foot on and off the brake pedal for hours on end. Easy. Make it fun.
For instance, when stuck in bumper to bumper traffic on a highway, I've been trying to crack the code of traffic patterns to determine which lane is the best to be in. In most cases, barring some construction and unexpected lane closures, the right lane is the way to go, only dipping over to the middle lane when stuck behind someone who brakes way too soon or when approaching an onramp. The left lane should rarely be used. The theory: most people think the left lane will move quickest and the only people exiting are on the right side. Makes sense. The hypothesis has not been thoroughly tested, however, and further investigation needs to conducted.
In my angstier, more self-righteous days, I used to play "Superhero," where I was an ordinary citizen whose duty was to protect my fellow drivers from the assholes of the road. You know who I'm talking about. The guys who cut you off without signaling, who ride up on your butt and then recklessly swerve around you, whose mufflers have been modified to make sure you know exactly how loud and obnoxious they are. I would see them cut someone off and then try to speed ahead through an impassable line of traffic. They would squeeze through, nearly causing a three car pileup in their wake. It was my duty to stop them. I would speed ahead of such a villain and then casually slow down to the speed limit. These people hate nothing more than someone going the speed limit. They would switch over to the right and try to speed ahead of me. I'd hit the gas and speed up just enough to align myself with another car, ensuring they could not pass and that they were safely boxed into between several speeding bodies of steel. They would always get away, probably angrier and more aggressive than before they ran into me. I wasn't a very good superhero.
A friend of mine told me that he plays "Shark Attack" sometimes. He'll pull up next to a car. And then change lanes in front of it. And then changes lanes to the opposite side of it. And then brake and get behind it. And then repeat that whole process. It sounded funny, but it's a lot more lane changing and braking than I prefer.
But lately, I've been playing what I refer to simply as "The Game." It's best played when there are moderate amounts of traffic that is steadily moving. The goal of the game: get through the traffic. The catch: you have to use your brakes as little as possible and drive like a somewhat courteous driver, i.e. use your signals, don't cut anyone off or tailgate unless necessary, and don't go too fast. Any asshole could drive a 100mph, then slam on the brakes, and then jerk his car over to the next lane forcing the little old lady in her Honda Accord to slam on her brakes. This game is more of a ballet than break dancing. It is about control, fluidity and efficiency. It's a puzzle at high speeds, except the pieces and the solutions are constantly changing. You anticipate, who is going where and when. It is a calculation based not on numbers, but by an instinct that must be developed over time. It is mentally enthralling.
More importantly, it keeps me awake.
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