I Miss the Roads Down in Africa

In my life, morning radio programs and Saturday afternoon traffic share one common characteristic.

If you can imagine yourself in my shoes earlier this week, you would have experienced a nice, hot shower, clean clothes to wear, and an incredible urge to lay back down on your unbelievably comfortable bed that your parents gave you as a wedding gift. You would have turned on the radio to listen to music just before sitting down to eat the wonderful breakfast your wife prepared for the two of you to share together. Then, before you walked to the table, you would have pointedly turned the radio off in a brief rage because, instead of hearing your favorite music, you had stumbled upon a couple of radio show hosts who had nothing better to do than complain about all that which is wrong with the world.

Fast forwarding to Saturday, you and your wife travel to see family for the first time in a long while, because hey, you have a car, and it actually works. As you get on the highway, you get angry at the bus that nearly runs you off the road, because hey, he’s supposed to drive better. As you nestle down into your padded seat with your heart set on reading a good book, the car jostles up and down after your wife accidentally hits a gynormous pothole, sending your book, and your senses, flying out of order. Having nothing better to do, you, in a brief rage, let your words stumble out to complain about all that which is wrong with the world.

Then your wife says something magical. “Well, I guess we could be in a worse car driving down the dirt ‘roads’ in Africa.”

That’s when you decide to make a simple switch. Rather than allowing those brief episodes of rage and indignation to last for very long, you decide to do all things without grumbling or disputing. Believe me, it makes the trip more enjoyable.

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