Anger Mismanagement! Dammit!

I like to think of myself as an easy-going guy who has a handle on anger. Except when it comes to driving, of course. There's nothing like getting behind the wheel of a 4,000 pound death machine to fire up the ol' anger senses when someone else out there on the road has the gall to do something stupid or rude.

(Okay, so maybe there are a few other issues that trigger anger in me: 1) Today's politics. When I hear someone extolling the virtues of Trump, I start to see orange, the color of hate. And Donny Trump. 2) Alcohol.  3) Political talk plus alcohol.  Hmmm. Maybe I'm not such an easy-going guy after all. But never mind that, dammit! Let me get back to the point before I get mad! DAMMIT!)

I don't know what it is about automobiles and anger. Maybe it's the anonymity of it all, enabling the driver to turn into a red-hot, road-raging maniac, a sort of secret identity unleashed only on wheels. I mean, once these guys get to work, I can't very well see them flipping off their coworkers and calling them choice curse words because they don't like their tie or whatever. No, once they step out of the car, a sense of civility overcomes them once again. But look out for Mr. Road Rage on the way home!

I once witnessed the beginning of a high-speed car chase because one guy cut it too close by whipping his car in front of the other. Horns blasted, then tires squealed as they sped down the highway, driving at crazy speeds, swerving in and out of lanes, and endangering everyone else out there. (To this day I've wondered how it possibly could have ended. Every scenario I envisioned didn't end with one of the two "learning his lesson.")

Yep. Automobiles are the great carrier of anger, empowering the driver to act like a jackass.

But that's not quite it. Even when I'm a passenger in an auto, I get angry at stupid people.

Case in point: Last weekend, my wife was driving and I was riding shotgun (only wish I had a shotgun with me! Dammit!). We were driving down the street and some idiot pulls right out into the intersection and stops, half of his car just asking for a good t-boning. My wife decides to "make a point" and blatantly stops and then swerves around the car. Then they honk, a long, blaring blast. Like we're the idiot drivers. I would've let it go, but once I looked at them (a typically crass, ruddy-faced Midwestern couple of yahoos), they were both just hysterically laughing at their grand jest of laying on the horn at us.

My civility flew out the window. On auto-pilot, both of my middle fingers went up purely on knee-jerk instinct. Adrenaline pumped. My anger senses were tingling and I was shaking. But my wife got even angrier at me. This time she stopped her car in the middle of the street to give me a thorough tongue-lashing.

She was right, of course. Unlike my ruder, wilder, younger days, I generally try to keep my middle finger down, particularly in today's volatile and violent mind-set. I don't particularly fancy the notion of getting shot over some moron's stupid traffic faux pas. But my responsive behavior felt like pure unleashed animalistic instinctual rage. Couldn't be helped.

Which kinda scares me. What if everyone responded this way, all of the time? (Wait...didn't we used to have a president like this?) No more civility. Just a bunch of road-raging, finger-flipping, invective-spewing neanderthals battling it out for dominance.

Maybe everyone should be schooled in how to cope with anger management. I'm reminded of a story my daughter told me about an acquaintance of hers. She told my daughter how a doctor suggested she take an anger management class and it was making her angry just talking about it! When my daughter suggested to her friend that maybe she should take an anger management class, she grew even angrier. (Apparently, her boyfriend quietly suggested, "Wouldn't that be nice?" I'm fairly sure he was sleeping on the sofa after that comment.)

Anyway, based on the not-so-great political debate and divisiveness of America these days, it looks like my vision of angry, shouting people becoming the norm has come true. I mean, if the (ex) president of the United States acts this way, then by all means, why shouldn't his followers?

So, people... Boom! I just solved the world's problems. Stop getting angry. See? Wasn't that simple? Much easier and cheaper than some stupid anger management class, right? What? You don't agree? What the hell do you mean, dammit? Don't make me come over there! I mean it! I'm not kidding around! DAMMIT! Here I come! No more Mr. Nice Guy! You won't like me when I'm angry! That did it!...

Whoa, whoa, whoa. I need to get a handle on my inner beast. For that matter, so does poor Shawn Biltmore. Except his inner beast is real. A werewolf. Which puts him in the perfect position for career advancement in his drudgy, corporate job. If only he could quit killing off his coworkers... Yep! That's right! I'm talking about Corporate Wolf!