Light it. Live it. Love it.

We’ve all seen them before.

Whether they’re traveling at ungodly rates of speed, changing lanes with nary a signal or regard, blocking the left lane or riding your ass so hard you feel like you’re in cellblock “E” with a bunch of weightlifting “sisters” counting down the minutes until shower time, bad drivers have infested our nation’s interstate system and displayed the frightening disregard for personal safety that was once reserved for inner city Domino’s deliverymen.

If you are reading this article and guilty of any of these aforementioned sins of the road, I think it’s time to sit down and re-evaluate your life before you make your way into a box of fragile items via your local paper’s obituary section.

Due to the nature of my job, I have to travel over an hour to work each way upon one of our nation’s most traveled (and most deadly) interstate highways: I-75. It was one such treacherous trek across this motorized graveyard that I thought of what could be the greatest spectacle ever witnessed by mankind.

Instead of airing the controlled boredom of professional racing events, we should focus cameras on our nation’s most dangerous roads.

 Think about it.

There is nothing more unpredictable or exciting than a death-defying driver riding the apathetic wave of anti-depressants and/or sleeping pills. If cameras were placed in strategic areas, I would guarantee a fatal accident every few seconds. We could assign two commentators to cover the action.

The play-by-play man could illustrate the “accident” on replays or even call it as it happens. The color-man would throw in a few zingers like, “That interstate is going to be backed-up worse than a fat man’s toilet.” The whole thing could both satiate our almost unquenchable thirst for violence and provide a visual warning to every sociopath that gets behind the wheel.

Even more ridiculous than the daily death race that takes place during the tumultuous rush hour is the fact that those same assholes that are throwing caution into the wind are risking everything to hurry into a job that they most likely despise.

It’s a lot like jumping into oncoming traffic to save a dieing sea monkey. I guess technically you’re saving something, but in the grand scheme of things your job is as meaningful as the life of that mindless invertebrate.

You know what?

That metaphor puts bad drivers in a far too favorable light.

After all, it is the needs and wants of one’s self that drives murderous motorists into a state of vehicular madness: vanity into insanity.

Operating in Life’s Trivial Pursuit,

Ronald Cherry