The Devil's in the Lane Change

I have seen hell...

Yes its true (and surprisingly it did not involve a group lunch with George Bush, my primary school librarian, and the Teletubbies in a small, airtight room with no doors). However, unlike Dante, who no doubt conceived his particularly breezy and delightful version of hell whilst riding in a briskly moving horse and carriage, I glimpsed the eternal inferno while ensconced for 3.5 hours in the metal vehicular casing I affectionately call Fido the Hyundai (yes as alliterative names go, this one sucks, and I am at peace with it) trapped in hellishly sluggish bumper to bumper traffic, supposedly commuting home on Thursday night....all was well at first, till I reached the approach to Captain Cook Bridge, gateway to The Shire (supposedly God's own country but temporarily appropriated by Satan this evening) and saw those lovely bright orange witches hats (traffic cones) blocking my path and a policeman looking for all the world like Peter Garrett in slo-mo, his arms whirring in all directions as he did his best impersonation of a traffic light (and yet there was not a sliver of red or orange on him, his only accession to the traffic light colour scheme, a lone green vest....perhaps red socks next time hmm? If you are going to impersonate traffic lights, at least try to mimic the colour scheme...we commuters like our mind numbing uniformity of experience, vivid palette and all!).....now a policeman blocking your path while looking like an epileptic on a heavy dose of Prozac is never a good sign of anything, and sure enough, I, along with my fellow commuters were ushered into what appeared, at first, to be an innocent side street, with trees either side, and sweet suburban houses nestled side by side...so far so pedestrian.....with my iPod churning tune after tune through my stereo and the "Sydney Morning Herald" before me, I cared not at first for the slow pace.....in fact I thought to myself "Isn't this nice? A nice relaxing drive home and an interesting diversion from my usual rut-infested commute".....I was briefly, it turns out, stupidly content.....

But lo', as in all good TV shows where the welcoming stranger turns out to be an axe murderer seeking another head to lop, my quiet sunny slice of suburbia morphed into Freddy Kreuger's idea of a lovely place to visit as it dawned on me that far from a trip full of stops to smell the roses, and visions of commuting sugar plum fairies (what? you think they only come out at Christmas?), that I had in fact been detoured straight into automotive hell.....but where Dante's Inferno had 7 layers, I was stuck in one cramped lane (albeit with water views) done in a stunning shade of bitumen (which frankly clashed with everything) and clogged with every single commuter in Sydney or it seemed, as I looked forward to an endless stream of orange brake lights, and back to the glittering of a hundred headlights dancing like a shimmering drunken ballerina across the pitch black of night....not quite the licking, flickering flames of hell but the colours were just about right, and as my initial diversion of reading the paper was taken from me by the descent of night on the caravan of the commuting damned (and not a funky Gypsy to be seen sadly....if you are going to be stuck in a nightmarish traffic jam, you need a Gypsy with a tambourine and a great sense of rhythm to pass the time....I have no idea why; you just do) - did I stop under even one street light?! That would be a no! - I was reduced to seeing just how far you can stretch 1100 songs on one iPod...and the answer is...quite a way...it turns I have over 3 days worth of music on the iPod, which is good to know if I ever migrate to the USA or Iceland (it could happen...no, really) and I am swallowed up by a snowdrift......I may starve to death but I will have the choice of many songs to become emaciated by....a comforting thought.....

So there I was....making about 1 km every 40 minutes or so, and thanking the Lord above - yes I had a spiritual awakening on the road to Miranda (not quite the road to Damascus but then you don't have the sand storms, and that can only be a good thing) - which I guess happens in hell, automotive or otherwise, for ABC radio and great current affairs.....so at least you get to be intellectually challenged in Sydney's version of hell which just goes to show you that the whory old dame ain't the bimbo every one says she is......

So what did I learn about Sydney's asphalt-encrusted version of hell?

(1) It is place of great suffering

Not necessarily eternal - although 3.5 hours in a car with my leg muscles seizing up, and no toilet facilities (yes, I know I should have taken the restroom option when the car salesman offered it but dammit, I didn't think! I just didn't think....) can make a traffic jam feel like eternity - but thank goodness for that...the idea of a never ending traffic jam is about as appealing as having my leg gnawed off by an over eager troop of hyperactive beavers hopped up on speed - thankfully I had left the beavers at home so beaver mauling was not a likely outcome of the jam (another compelling reason not to be a part time courier transporting animals between zoos - you get stuck in gridlock, the beavers get bored, and before you know it, its a bloodbath.....you just know that while the extra money is handy, that it will all end in tears)....you know you are suffering when the idea of an inflight meal sounds appealing....the worst part was knowing that home was only about 5 km away and it may as well have been on the moon.....and I am not talking about the lump of rock orbiting Earth....think Io far out near Jupiter where it is doubtful a beaver could survive but don't dismiss them out of hand....

(2) There is a demonic presence

Otherwise known as the motorists who won't do a 1 on 1 car merge when your torturously slow backstreet finally meets a semi-major road with gridlocked traffic of its very own....I know these people have also suffered greatly, and no doubt bear the scars of not having their iPod with them, or from carrying unrestrained North American fauna with them, but some people take great pleasure in guarding their very own slice of bitumen, and even looking at you as they glide on past....yes lady in the silver station wagon, I am talking about you!.....and don't pretend you didn't know what you were doing! ......OK, re-setting zen-like calm and moving on

(3) Satan comes in many forms

This would be the hoons who sped past in the opposite direction calling out "Ha! Ha!", which as you would no doubt appreciate, endeared them to us all....ah what I wouldn't have given for a sidewinder missile at that point (which is probably why they don't give them out on street corners unless you are in Baghdad, where you get one free with your morning coffee)....I shall of course add them to my Christmas card list immediately....and the other dear sweet motorists who decided that the line would move far more quickly, and apparently the laws of physics would be rendered null and void, if they simply sat on my car's backside throughout...strangely enough, and yes I know this will leave you gobsmacked with complete surprise (lift that jaw out of the gutter! You never know where its been), my car did not de-materialise so they could pass through, nor did their car-hugging speed up the traffic ahead...I know, shock is writ large across your faces, but its true...but you know what I say...God bless them for trying.....I am not sure if its a glass half full approach or just stupidity on their part - hmm, which one would I tend towards? - but its kinda sweet they found it in them to channel the lesser demons of their nature (they may have hocked the lesser angels to Satan in lieu of their souls) and tailgate me....

>>> so after my lessons in Sydney Car Hell 101, I finally hit the highway - thank the powers that be, I have never been so glad to see a major three laned road in my life; thought of kissing it but I feared escaped beavers attacking me, and unflattering comparions to recently deceased Popes - and arrived home at 6.45, having missed my appointment with Jane, who coped with my non-showing at our meeting by going shopping...yes she is a brave soul, and held up remarkably well thank God (I got some very supportive text messages from her till my mobile, capturing the dark zeitgeist, died from low power).......and how did I relax from my ordeal? Lots of chocolate of course....it was hardly a broccoli and low carb meal moment trust me.....and of course "Lost" was on, and there is nothing like rampant supernatural weirdness to calm a troubled soul....try it sometime, but avoid traffic jams...their supernatural weirdness is vastly overrated and I for one will not be immersing myself in one again if I can help it, and of course, I can't.....D'oh!!

>>> now far be it from me to sound a jarring commercial note here, but all the cosy 1 on1 time spent with my iPod made me realise that in the middle of this urban nightmare lies the kernel of a beautiful ad campaign that Apple may wish to use once they tire of silhouettes bopping away to Gorillaz or U2. I have thoughtfully prepared three taglines that could form the centrepiece of what could be a very effective, and dare I say, moving, successful ad campaign, which Apple clearly needs as iPods are not selling all that well...yes, only 98.9% of people own one which clearly shows that Apple has some work to do if it doesn't want to avoid being the creator of a complete lemon.....

(A) "I am trapped in my car in a 1 in 100 years traffic jam (like 1 in 100 year storms but way more exhaust fumes)....I never realised how small my car is.....and how close all the other cars are.....Maybe I will never get home...maybe I am trapped here forever and rescuers will find my emaciated body desperately grasping at the windscreen, a frightened look etched on my mummified face....oh no! I am going to die! I'm going to die! I am too young! No, don't let me die! DON'T LET ME DIE! ...........but wait, here is my iPod....sigh, all is well"

(B) "I cannot believe this freaking traffic jam! What on earth is going on?! Why aren't we moving ?! This is an absolute waste of time! And look at those young guys staring at me from their car going in the other direction, yelling out 'Haha!'. How dare they! Who do they think they are! Why if only I could get my hands on them, they would die horrible violent deaths for their taunting and.......but wait, here is my iPod, all shiny white & silver...I feel zen like peace return and all is well"

(C) "iPods - better than a pack of bored beavers gnawing your body parts off one by one"

So Apple if you're reading this, just get your people to call my people...wait a second, I don't actually have any people..I keep forgetting that which could explain all those weird phone calls to my mobile phone...right so why don't you just call me, and perhaps for a small fee I could be persuaded to appear in the ads, for the sake of my creative growth, of course......

So some good could come from my descent into automotive hell, which goes to show that every cloud has a silver lining, which hopefully isn't being held in place by poisonous heavy metals like nickel cadmium, lead and mercury, which will slowly kill me......