Mom vs. The Blue Prius

Not the blue Prius, but close.

There must be some law of nature that in order to drive a Prius, you have to be slightly out of it and really don't care. I mean, to the point of excluding reality, and the people you're annoying. Now, before my hybrid driving friends get offended, you have to admit that you are not mainstream. I love you, but the reason I do, is that you're a little off, and I'm a little off, so let's call it a truce, okay?

Today, I found the crackpot of all Priuses. It was an anemic blue model with the type of bumper stickers you pray you don't find, but know you will. It's not that that I don't think of Hetch Hetchy, or know of the political tangle and maneuverings over water during the first third of the 20th Century. It's not that I don't Support Yosemite, or any number of environmental concerns that could be found printed on weathered bumper stickers on the back of this car.

But once, I'd love to see an "NRA," or "LIBERALS SUCK MY TAILPIPE", "I speed up for large mammals," "I've got the beef, where's yours?" on the back of a speeding red Prius hightailing past me, window down, cigarette being tossed out the window as the driver pounds on the horn making people get out of the way.

If it were possible, that is.
But today, something pretty amazing happened.
The I-5 was clogged today. Now, Marc Danziger knows how much I hate the I-5. For almost a year, Marc and Grace would get on their motorcycles and come see me, because I refused to drive anywhere except for a 2-mile radius around house. Either I drove 2 miles or I would get on a plane and fly 3000. This pretty much blows any pretense I might have had about having a light carbon footprint --especially if the only place I could imagine meeting Marc for dinner was 3000 miles away in NYC. (Marc only lives 20 miles from me, and I don't have to take I-5 to get to his house. My reasoning, it could be said, was flawed).

But daughter and I had to go into Los Angeles to a place right off I-5, and there was no choice. The traffic was bad, so we exited the freeway to take side streets. Making our way through trucks on Firestone Bl., we finally reached Telegraph Ave., where I promptly found myself stuck behind the anemic blue Prius and wedged beside an equally annoying (and the stupidly-named) Honda Pilot.

It was as if some "slow traffic" Karma had been stirred into my coffee this morning. The blue Prius went a jamming 30 mph in a 45 mph zone. It didn't matter that cars were stacked up behind it, as the driver was probably more concerned about maximizing its fuel efficiency to get 2,950 miles per gallon and put it on Facebook.  To make matters worse, the Pilot driver was on the phone. They'd speed up, let cars get behind it, then slow way down. Finally, a row of us were stuck behind the Prius and wedged beside the Pilot. there must be some kind of sympathetic relationship between these two poorly named cars.

I followed this Prius through the towns of Norwalk and Pico Rivera. During this time, I was able to explain to my daughter that a more interesting project for her AP European History class, wouldn't be the one the teacher assigned: a map of Renaissance Europe. Rather, a map of Europe with what Renaissance masters would be doing today.  Leonardo da Vinci would be running an internet company (people would find him suspicious).  George Clooney would be dating Mona Lisa, and both would be pursued by the papparazzi.  The de Medici's would be plotting with Rupert Murdoch and they would all have married into the Agnelli family. Carla Bruni would dump President Sarkozy and take up with Marlowe. Shakespeare would have the most popular Twitter feed.  Michaelangelo would paint with groupies around, he'd have an agent, and a deal with Thomas Kinkade to start "Michaelangelo, Painter of Angels in Light" stores in malls.

"I mean, really, Kat. A teacher asks you to do a project over the summer, they deserve a smart ass response."
She was not impressed. Note, the giveaway that this was not in compliance was the liberal use of swear words directed at the blue Prius as I was pitching the project.

Anyway, my pitch did nothing to reduce my growing annoyance with the blue Prius.
The traffic slowed as we reached the city of Commerce. Telegraph once again snaked its way back toward the I-5. The Prius got ready to sit in a line of cars turning left to get onto the freeway. Cars went careening past me, free from this little blue suckster. I turned to my daughter as we got ready to continue straight.

"Look, I HAVE to do this," I said.
"What?" she asked.
"HONK!" I said, leaning on the horn as I went past the Prius.
"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEKK!" screamed the lady through her rolled down window.  The startle response was perfection.  The look on her hassled face was shock, disbelief, and fright.  I  had broken what she would call her reverie, and what the rest of us called oblivion and self righteousness. We continued on our way.
"That was SO worth it!" my daughter laughed. She picked up the phone and relayed the event to my son. As she was talking, she looked over to the freeway which ran alongside us on the left.
"And there she is again!" she said, pointing to the blue Prius.
I looked at my daughter and did the only thing I could do.
I leaned on the horn, rolled down my window and waved.

Again.