So this past week on the road, I have to say I saw some of America's insanity at its finest.

When you are traveling a highway, that big commercial truck might be an inconvenience, and the whole time you are complaining about the fact that it even exists, and the fact that the driver had the nerve to get over in that fast lane to get around another one of you 4-wheeled passenger cars that decided it was necessary to ride the merge lane to the end—all the while riding the brake, instead of just getting out there in the lane and merging with the oncoming traffic like you are supposed to...

Keep in mind that driver is the one being held responsible for every stupid mistake you make when you are behind, in front of, or beside him or her.

I mean, let’s be for real, people: you drive the same route every day, and so do I. It is always the same backups for the same things every damned day.

Yep, I did choose to drive that truck, knowing that it only legally goes 65 MPH. That extra 3 MPH is what lets me get around you without having to take the next 49 miles to do so. When you come up beside me after I move to the left to allow other traffic to join the highway, and decide that it is a perfectly safe place to hang out while complaining:

Slow down, let me back over, and you can go on about your merry distracted way.

Yes, we see you risking your life—and ours too—because you cannot be bothered to put the damned electronics down and drive. So does our dash camera. We are not in a hurry, even though FMCSA mandates force us to rush everywhere we go or we run out of time out on a road and have to wait there for no less than 10 hours while their stupid clock resets.

That is a whole issue in and of itself, but not something worth discussing in this post.
ROAD RAGE, however, is something entirely different.

Some people should not have any form of accelerated transportation.

Thursday night on my way home, just north of Ann Arbor, Michigan, I had to pause and wonder if I was going to be afforded the opportunity to actually arrive home safely.

Keep in mind when you see that truck in your mirror, you do not know if it weighs 34,000 lbs or 80,000 lbs or more. Yet somehow you foolishly think it is OK to merge into oncoming traffic while still trying to crash the person who either cut you off, or that you cut off 3 miles prior to the merge.

When you cause that wreck:

You stop me from doing my job.

You stop me from living my life.

You potentially cost me my ability to do so for the foreseeable future.

See, even though I was not involved in your incident... the minute you carried it to the lane in front of me, you got me involved.

You and I both had better hope and pray that your ignorance affords me enough time to react and slow down before you become highway stew.

We are trained to watch all that goes on around us:

You playing on your phone when you should be driving.

You trying to wreck that other person because you were butt-hurt over something that happened 3 miles back up the road.

You trying to prove you are anything but smart.

And we are taught to slow down and yield to the situation. Not because it is the right thing to do—because it will save our life, and ultimately yours as well.

When you want to go out on the road and be a dick, pause for 10 seconds and think about your children sitting at home waiting for you to get there.

Think about your significant other answering the door to law enforcement declaring that you are in the hospital or dead because you lack the ability to control your own emotions, let alone my nearly 70,000-lb truck.

Yet you chose to be an ignorant ass because at the end of the day it is my fault. Even if it is not and my dash cam proves it, I still will be the one to pay the price for such idiocy.

Pause for just a moment and think... PLEASE.