Monday, May 23, 2011

Killing Time In the Rush of Multi-tasking

As a former Vietnam fighter pilot, I witness with amusement the 60 mile per hour crap shoot with death being waged by the addicted Texters speeding past me on the Atlanta freeways. The technological explosion has enveloped many of us in the hypnosis of gadgetry. I-Pod, I-Pad, I-Phone, Standard Text Messaging rates apply. I shake my head at the ubiquitous, clueless, transit gamblers entrapped in the addiction of texting mania while their less brave counterparts move in and out of the traffic streams enduring sweaty ears affixed to plastic telephonic devices keeping them locked in streams of unnecessary chats with remote parties. The addicted texters don't get it until the panicked visual is indelibly etched in their minds of the two rapidly encroaching red eyes that impale themselves in the front bumper before reaction time matters.

I understand the addiction to the crap shoot with danger, the inner fascination with the seduction of "can I do it without dying?" It is an irresistible Calypso siren with which combat pilots have learned to dance, but for which pay is rendered after long periods of training to proficiency. The highway horror will continue; Geico and All State will sustain profitability, as will the mortician and funeral directors, as the texting losers are vanquished in the gamble with death that finally rolled Snake-eyes. Cell phones should be electronically disabled when the vehicle gear shift is removed from PARK.

Keep It Safe,

Captain Bee

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