Irony

Driving home today I was slapped in the face by the full meaning of irony. And you know what? It felt pretty much the same as irritation. Go figure.

I have a ridiculous commute given that I live in Idaho. It seems that everyone in the area is trying to drive the same direction at the same time on the same day. We do have an interstate here -- I know! Right?! -- and it does get filled with cars in the morning and in the afternoon. It is sort of like rush hour in most places only instead of tall buildings you get fields. Fields filled with vegetables of one kind or another. Or cows. Or sometimes both. Unfortunately, I live in a location where driving to and from work can take me upwards of 45 minutes when the same drive takes 15 minutes on a Saturday morning. Is that the worse commute ever? No. Is it freakin' ridiculous for freakin' Idaho? Ummm, YEAH.

I tend to avoid the interstate because that is where most of the morons drive. Morons = Californians. Instead, I drive the back roads. While I get to happily avoid the morons I instead have to deal with the idiots. Idiots = farmers in pick-up trucks. It is akin to trading Tweedledee for Tweedledum. It isn't really an upgrade, but it helps you pretend you aren't hanging out with crazy.

There was a 5 car accident on the interstate during afternoon rush hour so a lot of traffic diverted to the same side roads I normally drive on. Yes. I know they aren't technically MY roads, but I have grown accustomed to driving sans morons and am, apparently, quite territorial.

I got stuck behind a very long line of cars waiting at a four-way stop sign and spent a few moments taking in the scenery. What I noticed was, in fact, the definition of irony.

To my right - corn field. Tall, tall rows of corn and if I hadn't been so irritated by the traffic I might have actually been a bit afraid that some crazed child name Ezekiel or Malachai or Amos would come running out with a scythe and try to kill me.

To my left - muddy pasture with cows. And horses. And two men riding horses. Horses that were moving much, much faster than I was. And I was in a car. With an engine. That was running.

In front of me - large pick-up truck, dead stopped in traffic, during rush hour, with windows rolled down in 90-something heat and the vanity plate read ESCAPN.

If that ain't irony folks. I don't know what is.