Life is full of intersections which present many choices. Should I take the heavily traveled road where I am certain of the outcome of my decision or should I take a risk and choose the road less traveled? Yes, life’s metaphorical intersections can make one ponder one’s existence, can measure one’s ability to take risks, and enable others to completely redirect their lives.

Go to your local library and you’ll find plenty of books depicting the accounts of others who have come to personal intersections and have made decisions that have brought both positive and negative results in their lives. Unfortunately too many books have been written about life’s metaphorical intersections and too few tell the average human being about the basic etiquette one should use when coming to one of the many real intersections around Central Virginia.

If there was a kinder, gentler way for me to convey this, I would—but basically there are idiots out there behind the wheel who missed their true calling in life to become a crash test dummy. Some of these people rarely stop at intersections; they think a pretty red stop sign means to slow down to about 15 mph before participating in a four-wheeled version of Russian roulette as they dart into traffic. Of course they never get injured and their vehicles never receive a scratch because they are long gone after their James Bond-like antics cause you to slam on your brakes and slide into a ditch where you await the arrival of your friendly neighborhood wrecker to pull you out.

Obviously, these idiots have a cousin at DMV who fudged their driving test results because these drivers couldn’t maneuver a grocery cart down the produce aisle at Food Lion without causing a gumbo of an accident.

Then there are those who look at intersections in a whole different light. They come to a complete stop in front of you at the crossroads and then proceed to burn up a tank of gas waiting for the highway to clear of all oncoming traffic within a five mile view.  Obviously, these drivers are not risk takers. Finally, after celebrating two birthdays within the confines of their automobiles, they pull cautiously into the intersection only to slam on brakes and back up when they get the feeling that a car might be pulling into the highway in a neighboring state. Of course you can’t move anyway because your car has overheated and rigor mortis has set in.

There are others who neither speed through nor stop completely at intersections. These drivers conquer crossroads by gradually creeping out into the flow of traffic until no traffic can flow from either direction. After horrendous honking, prolific profanity and generous hand gestures from other drivers, they decide to move on through the angry crowd and go on their merry way.

And how about those four-way intersections? It’s always a joy when four vehicles come to the same four-way intersection at the same precise moment. Suddenly everyone becomes polite guests at a prestigious party. Cordial nods are given. Gentlemen give gentleman-like gestures to fellow female drivers, indicating permission to proceed. Damsels deliver dainty digital waves to fellow male drivers indicating their refusal to enter the intersection first. After many nods and waves and other cordial correspondences, all four drivers, at the same moment, decide that each has been given the OK to proceed and all four do proceed. In one gigantic insurance adjuster’s nightmare, they collide in the center of the intersection, creating a mangled piece of modern art worthy of display at the Guggenheim.

Some drivers make good use of intersections. It gives them the opportunity to do a little light housekeeping. Tobacco chewers find it to be the most opportune moment to open their doors and empty the syrup-like contents from their McDonald Styrofoam cups, making the president of the Junior League behind them in her Buick LeSaber come close to losing the delicious lunch she just enjoyed in the backyard of a potential member. Middle-aged parents often take the opportunity to eject their teenager’s Megadeath or Scorpions cassette from the tape deck and replace it with The Best of Neil Diamond.

For you smokers who find stopping at an intersection a great time to toss your lit cigarette from your window and onto the road, I’d like to propose a good old fashioned butt kicking. The math is simple: One lit cigarette plus dry roadside grass equals fire. Put your cigarette out in that thing called an ashtray. Take some time to locate it. It’s right there near the console. I know you can find it. You smokers are very talented people. I’ve seen you lighting up your Marlboros while driving with your elbows.

Whether you are arriving at life’s metaphorical crossroads or one of the many real intersections while traveling Central Virginia’s byways, it is always important to stop, look both ways, proceed with caution and watch for all the idiots who seem to make both life and driving a little more difficult for the rest of us.