Dr. Gridlock

I love traffic.  Not the being in it part, but the thinking about how the hell it happens part.  Living in DC, then, is like being a baseball fan in the early 50's in New York.  We are in the golden age of traffic.  Even before politics, this town talks traffic.  People decide where to start their family based on three reasons: schools first, political affiliation second, and traffic a close, sometimes interchangeable, third. 

You never leave the house without first considering how long your trip will take and what route best suits your needs.  One never knows when they are going to get stuck on the Beltway—I don’t even know what direction the traffic flows and when—or when the five mile trip up Rockville Pike to Target will take the better part of an hour. 

Last weekend we drove from Chevy Chase to Alexandria, VA.  Fortunately the yin to my traffic yang is my wife, who doesn't love traffic, but maps.  She consulted her DC Metro gazetteer and after discarding the old ways (Beltway), and the new ways (Reno Rd, to Mass, to 14 St and bridge), she settled on the scenic way (through Rock Creek Park and around The Tidal Basin to 14 St and bridge).  And that was just this trip.  I could give you 10 other routes we have taken in the past.

We even have someone at our local paper who writes about traffic.  Not since that time I saw giant dump trucks driving up a 200 foot pile of salt in Baltimore have I looked at someone else's career and thought, "Damn, I'd like to do that."  You never know, with the predictions of LA like traffic jams in our near future, a second Dr. Gridlock may be needed.