One runner's plea to motorists: Please stop honking at each other | Opinion
There is a sense of anger I see when I'm on my daily run. We should remember to be kind to each other.
"Good morning," we said.
A neighbor walking his dog and I exchanged the simple pleasantry as we passed each other before I started my run. A few steps later, someone actually running nodded in my direction. Then another dog walker smiled as we passed.
A beautiful blue sky overhead. Birds chirping. It was so idyllic. Undoubtedly, a bunch of flying monkeys were preparing to attack. Or maybe a car would roll up and transform into a Decepticon.
No attacks, but I also knew something ugly was likely waiting for me at the top of the hill.
I've followed several well-worn routes around a Washington, DC, suburb for more than two decades. The biggest questions have been: Will I turn right at the high school or go straight and add a couple of miles? Maybe I'll cut it a little short and take the hilly road behind the school?
Regardless of the path, I inevitably end up waiting for a red light at one or more intersections. I've generally embraced those few seconds to catch my breath mentally and physically.
Not anymore.
Now I just wait for the honk from an irritated driver. Whatever moments of zen I might be enjoying quickly turn to "why."
I have to wonder, when did we get so angry?
Why does someone honk when it's obvious they'll easily cross the intersection? Why did that person in front of them need to look at their phone? Why are we so angry? Why do I get so angry when I hear yet another HONK!
It hasn't always been this way around here.
As comedian Bill Maher might say, "I don't know it for a fact. I just know it's true," that honking wasn't this quick or prevalent before the COVID-19 pandemic. (Note: If you have access to street sound data before and after the pandemic, I would love to prove or disprove my theory.)
We've been driving around in these glass-enclosed pods for years. But a quick-tempered anger seems to be trapped inside with us now. These aren't just little excuse-me taps. They're full-on blasts formerly reserved for truly egregious action or inaction.
Blame it on the pandemic for breaking some social norms. Blame it on social media. Blame it on President Donald Trump or President Joe Biden. Whatever it is, it seems like it might be here to stay.
Are we too distracted while driving?
Just the other day, I happened to glance up at a stoplight as it changed. Not even a second passed before ... HONK. It was as if the honker were practicing his game-show buzzer skills. What is unnecessary, Alex?
It's not to say some of us don't need to be reminded to get our noses out of our phones.
Cambridge Mobile Telematics has been tracking our cellphone use in our cars for years. Its data shows that in 2024, we drivers interacted with our phones more than half of the time when our cars were moving faster than 10 miles per hour. Just how many more of us used our phones while waiting at a stoplight?
Of course, it's better to do whatever we need to do when our cars are stopped. But when we're on the road, we're also part of a community. And we're all trying to get somewhere. All that we ask of one another is that we're present and aware of what's going on.
Wouldn't it make our world a little better if we took a beat or two? Could we wait just a bit to decide if someone isn't doing their part before we lay on the horn?
As I make the penultimate right turn, the road is a long downhill and not a light in sight. A dog walker stares at me for a moment to get my attention. "Good morning," she says enthusiastically. I reply with a smile.
It's amazing how a bit of kindness expressed in those two words helped to reset my morning.
Jim Sergent is a graphics editor for Paste BN.