Concerning Green Minivans

Socrates said the unexamined life is not worth living. Amen, brother. I couldn’t agree more.

I examine my life all the time. I contemplate my flaws, note my sins and transgressions, and work hard to balance the karmic books.

In examining my life, I think I may have hit upon the central question. The one which, if answered, will solve the riddle of my existence and make everything absolutely clear in perpetuity.

The question is this:

Why am I always stuck behind green minivans on the freeway?

Other drivers move in and out of traffic. Openings appear for them. A blink of the turn signal and they’re on their way, simple smiles on their vacant faces, no doubt listening to lite rock with less talk and fewer interruptions.

I, on the other hand, am pinned in the right lane, a rusty Camry in my blind spot, a green minivan directly in front of me.

In my younger days, I worked my way out of situations like these with a combination of horn, accelerator, and middle finger. Now that I’ve had time to examine my life, I see that I was wrong.

That rage was not the answer.

That I was swimming against the current.

That for every green minivan I flipped off, two green minivans rolled off an assembly line somewhere and onto the freeway ahead of me.

Better to proceed at the speed of the green minivan ahead of me (usually five miles an hour slower than I personally would like to go). Better to remain calm and contemplate small details on the tail gate – the uninspired design of the lights… the bumper sticker advertising a child’s honor student status… the smeary arc of the worn wiper blade on the rear window… that sort of thing.

Better to drive with a tranquil, empty mind.

Sometimes, I use inane, obviously focus-grouped minivan model names for a mantra.

“Ooohhhm… Windstar…. Ooohhhm… Town and Country….”

They say there’s room for seven passengers in there. They say there are storage compartments for everything. I say every green minivan comes with a spiritual lesson stowed in a special compartment just for me. It’s standard equipment.

But what’s the lesson?

Why does fate always stick me behind green minivans on the freeway?

What am I supposed to take away? Patience? Humility? Compassion? Wisdom? What?

The answer eludes me as surely as green minivans impede me, and I continue to examine life, trying to tease the truth out.

“Ooohhhm… Windstar…. Ooohhhm… Town and Country….”

I will finish this commentary, forward it to MPR, and, if they like it, I will hurry over to the studio to record it.

I will take the freeway, and as I merge into traffic, there it will be. A green minivan. Right ahead of me. Going five miles an hour slower than I want to go, dragging the meaning of life like a broken tail pipe