Four-Way Stops

I am back in Vineland, New Jersey, home of Welch's Grape Juice, RC Cola, the Dandelion Wine Festival, and about a decade of my childhood.

It's not as weird being back as I thought it might be. I am, admittedly, a little disoriented but for the most part I'm finding my way about. There is however, a thing of wonder I want to share with all of you. This thing that amazes me the most, that for me has become the great symbol of American...American-ness is the four way stop.

My mom was driving my uncle to the church where he's getting married on Saturday to try to catch the pastor (which is another great story but for another post) and I was in the back seat zoning out the way jet-lagged people do. But then it happened. We came up to a four-way stop. We were the third car to arrive at the intersection. First the man to the left pulled through the intersection. Then the man opposite us, who had arrived seconds after the first man and seconds before us, pulled through. Then we did.

My jaw dropped. I was speechless. And I wondered that the American people allow themselves to be governed by a large, red, octagonal piece of metal.

You see, in the Great Country Across the Sea, the right of way belongs to the person who believes it's his right of way. I've sat in intersections for 20 minutes before because everyone, in all four directions, decided to move into the intersection despite the red light, and we are all inch by inch battling to move through. Once, stuck on a bus in such a predicament, I watched a police man watch the traffic. The look on his face said, "I'll just sit on the hood of my car and wait this one out, because there's no way I'm going to convince 6 bus drivers and 50 motorists that they don't have the right of way on this one."

But the American people, being deeply ingrained with the weight of the law from birth, have all agreed that if there is a large, red, octagonal piece of metal, that they should and will abide by it's command.

And I think that's awesome.