Bless me Father, for I have sinned. I have cursed out drivers on the open highway and prayed their mothers had never conceived them. In or at of wedlock, those dirty b . . . . . .

It’s road rage, I fear. A sin I commit almost every time I’m behind the wheel. I want to be good and not dwell on others’ transgressions, but the temptation is too great. And wanting to do bodily harm to inconsiderate drivers has become a “near occasion” of sin for me.

The following represents the many times I took the Lord’s name in vain when another either committed driving affronts or failed to commit courteous driving actions, thus precipitating my evil inclination to do away with them:

Here Are But a Few Things Causing Me Road Rage 

• Turning without signaling to me, the driver behind ’em, who’s wondering where the hell they’re going.
• Driving on dark, slick roads under rainy conditions with no lights on. Don’t they know it’s the law in Pennsylvania?
• Needing someone to “beep” them as they sit for several long seconds after a red light had changed to green.
• Planning to turn left on a divided highway, but not getting over far enough for a poor schmuck like me to pass them, as I wait for what seems forever for oncoming traffic to slow to their liking.
• Someone on the cellphone while smoking a cigarette and drinking from a soda can. Multi-tasking like this will cause an accident. By someone watching ‘em, trying to figure out why they need to stay busy (need I say: “distract” themselves?) when driving.
• ——————
• Van operators who always drive alone with no passengers despite owning a more gas-friendly car that won’t block my small Saturn Ion. There ought to be a law against use of a van unless there are at least two persons inside.
• Van operators who “gang up” on me by driving in front and on the side of my car. Can’t see a damn thing over and/or around ’em, causing me to veer toward the median cement barrier — or onto on-coming traffic at an undivided highway — to see what’s causing the delay on road ahead.

‘…confess my sins and do penance…’

• + Pick-up truck drivers who never carry a pick-up or a load in their beds.
• + Anyone near 80 years old driving a sports car with a convertible top down. They shouldn’t have that much fun at their age.
• Drivers that always obey a 25-mile-per-hour speed limit while you and everyone else on the road have been cruising at a comfortable 32. There’s a big difference psychologically, and no police officer worth their salt is going to ticket you for a 7-miles-per-hour offense.
• Young men who want to share their music while driving with a loud bass sound nearly crushing my ear drums.
• People who spend what seems like “forever” foraging through pockets or purses for money to pay at a McDonald’s Drive thru window, when having all that time while someone prepared their order. They tell you the cost of the meal right after you order. Can’t they get the money ready while idling in park?
• ——————
• Truck and Van operators who take up two parking spaces to park. Throw in Cadillac-owners too.
• Political junkies who insist on keeping their candidate’s bumper sticker on, even though he lost a zillion years ago. Didn’t they get the message? And what about those still carrying a torch for the winner. Are they trying to rub it in that their guy won?
• Vanity plate owners you have to pull over to ask what the hell the letters on the plate really mean.
• High-beamers who won’t shift back to regular headlights for you driving in on-coming traffic.
• Any 75-year-old, white-haired lady who gives you the finger after you beeped them, over took their car, and scowled at ’em while passing on the road.
• Drivers afraid to turn right on red when there is no sign that prevents you from turning right on red. (Get to know the law, butthead!)
• —————–
• Drivers suffering amnesia after flipping their turn signal on; the signal just keeps blinking . . . and blinking . . . and blinking.
• Driving in the passing lane while 101 motorists pass them in the right lane. (Figure you’d take a hint by now, buddy.)

I firmly resolve with the help of thy Grace never to beep that white-hair lady, or curse an inconsiderate driver again. So Help Me, God!