OUT OF CONTEXT: If you look closely at my picture, you'll see my eyes are following you

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By Carleton Bryant

My morning commute seems to be getting longer and longer, but at least I get to pass the time with 352,471 of my closest friends. And their cars … and tractor trailers.

Without traffic, I can drive from my home to work in 35 minutes. With traffic, it takes me well over an hour. That's what car horns are for. Apparently. ("Honk if you like the scenic route!")

There are certain spots along the route where traffic regularly slows to a crawl — or slower. These slow spots usually sport names like "highway," "freeway" or "parkway." During the morning commute, they all become "driveways."

These slow spots give us commuters time to work on our communication skills, mostly vocabulary ("#@*%$#!" is the most popular word) and sign language ("My goodness! Do you shake hands with that finger?").

It's like an educational party.

But lately I've noticed a couple of party poopers. When traffic stalls, they drive onto the shoulder and zip by everybody else. It's like they're saying, "Hey, I don't have time to sit here and obey the law. I've got places to go," as they kick up dust and gravel onto your car.

It's just plain rude.

And it makes me wish I had someplace to go.