When I was a kid, I read parts of the newspaper every day, but it wasn't the headlines. It was the comics, Dear Abby, and Dave Barry. (I'm still miffed that Dave Barry no longer writes regular columns.) As an adult, I also read the news, but I still love the comics. I sometimes read advice columns; I might agree with the advice, not agree, or have no basis for an opinion (like the advice columns in my husband's handyman magazines; I don't know how to wire your new whatever).
I have rarely thought that an advice columnist was farther off the mark than when they answered a query from someone who wrote in to say, "I hate it when cars drive right next to me. I feel compelled to either speed up or slow down. Is this normal?"
Let me just digress for a moment here to say, I am baffled by the sheer number of people who apparently worry about whether or not they are "normal." I only tend to worry about it in, say, terms of post-op recovery, so I know when I need to seek out the doctor - "Your body will do this or that, but don't worry, it's normal."
I'm more like my son. His sister frequently asks, "Is it weird that I like (x)?" He has no patience for this, and is likely to snap, "Who cares? So you like it. It doesn't matter if that's weird." While I think he should be less snappish about it, that's how I feel. Like it or don't. There is no reason to spend a single second wondering if you're "normal." I think this behavior is a result of people deciding that normal = desirable, which it does not.
But anyway - back to the advice.
I was positive that I knew what the columnist would say. I, too, hate having cars next to me, or too close in front or behind. I think the reasons for this are obvious, and rooted in safety. A car near you, especially at freeway speeds, has the potential to harm you. If the other driver so much as sneezes, or looks at their phone, or gets aggressive in passing, you can be seriously harmed or killed. Cars are deadly weapons. I know nothing about most drivers that I'll encounter, but I'm asked to trust them literally with my life, and the lives of my family. I am most comfortable when they are far from me, not so close that I could touch them. So yes, I hate it when they want to drive right next to me. I, too, will speed up or slow down in order to shake them off.
This is not what the columnist said. She blathered on for several paragraphs about perceived intimacy. People like to think that they are anonymous in their cars, she said, so having someone close enough to see you feels like forced intimacy, so it makes us emotionally uncomfortable.
What? On what planet? They have thousands of pounds of metal right next to me, and I don't know if they're careful! I don't care if they can make eye contact! I'm worried about automobile contact!
But no; the columnist wanted to carry on about intimacy issues. I found myself mentally addressing her - "Honey, I'm not dating them! I'm trying to stay alive at 75 MPH!"
Maybe you have intimacy issues. I don't care, as long as you stay in your lane.
I should probably never write an advice column (I'd end up saying, "Who cares if you're normal?" and people would sue); but I'm sure that I'm right about this.
