Road Rage Against the Machine

I believe I must speak out against road rage...and hard-headedness for that matter.

Road rage has gotten me punched by an amateur boxer, threatened by an old man with a cane, and most recently, immobilized at the bottom of a hill off Route 22 in New York only avoiding death through sheer divine intervention.

Yet, the rage persists. Today was no exception. I don't even want to go into it, but I can never figure out how I developed this ... this disorder. It has to stop.

Meanwhile, I've been listening to Rage Against the Machine (and Alice in Chains for that matter) as of late -- no connection to the road rage topic whatsoever (yes, I mean it...no connection) -- and it makes me want to buy an electric. I haven't channeled and released my frustrations through a musical instrument in such a long time. I almost feel like my anxieties are well-kept inside my body and not wanting to leave. I need to play music to thrive and survive.

Going back to my topic, if you drive down Route 22 now, you will see that on one of the curves, a cross has been erected in memory of someone who recently died there because of a car accident. Driving further down south, you will see the curve that I drove off. I can't be this hard-headed. I need to get this seemingly innocuous yet incredibly hazardous part of my life together before God decides that one extra chance is enough for this lifetime.

I Cried on National TV

That's right. Strange trivia about me. It was neither the news catching me crying nor being caught on American Idol live sobbing over the angelic voice of a teen sensation (tone-deaf or otherwise).

Back in college, I experienced something quite traumatic. One of my good friends from college was killed protecting her father from an assassination attempt. This all occurred a few hours after I had brunch with her - so I basically had last contact. We were close through the debate team. A few years after her death, I was asked to present an award of some sort in her name during a nationally televised debate tournament. The presentation featured a video of her and a speech about her life. Granted the little spiel I had to recite on TV was written by someone else and, thus, easy to follow like a script, I couldn't help but breakdown into tears after the video presentation was over. I could barely speak.

Intense. It reminds me about how much of a whirlwind my life has been the past few years.