If I Had a Hammer ...

I did a fair amount of driving around yesterday, which was fun and exciting, given that a big snow/ice storm was moving in. Traffic moved slowly, and I was reflecting about our relationship to cars. That it is screwed up goes without saying. But just how is it screwed up? I think I figured it out.

Like all of the objects we use on a daily basis, cars are simply another tool, like a kitchen faucet or a washing machine. Yet somehow, probably starting with snake oil salesman Henry Ford, the idea of the car has grown to mythical proportions. Most people seem to view them as extensions of themselves, something to which we have an unalienable right. (Guns also seem to be viewed this way.)

I can't think of any other THING that inspires such strong emotion. I've never read about someone experiencing snowblower rage. No one says, "You'll have to pry my sewing machine out of my cold, dead hands!"

So the next time I'm feeling frustrated in traffic, I want to remember to tell myself, "This car is just a tool that I am using to get somewhere. Like a hammer or a snow shovel or my knitting needles. Not worth getting upset about."