Sat - November 6, 2004

Dear Editor,

These observations were made on our 3,000 mile trip to north Idaho and back. I'm a codger, long-of-tooth male, 83, but still drive in the fast lane at the going rate of speed, between 70 and 80 mph, changing lanes (using the blinker) to accommodate high-speed travelers as they threaten to rise up over the rear of my car.

Over in the 'slow lane.' I can see, out of the corner of my eye, young males driving souped-up, humped-up 1,000-horsepower pickups doing 100 mph as they charge into vacancies in the faster lanes, ending up within inches of my front bumper, invading my three-second zone.

Yes, I know this is what we all put up with. Our blood pressure goes up, our middle fingers twitch, our teeth grind, but we don't allow this beastliness to get to us.

There is a solution: Instant castration. Surely, the state can set aside sufficient funds to hire surgeons with sharp knives, stationed at convenient off-ramps to perform the removal of the necessary organs.

The California Highway Patrol would merely be required to shepherd these miscreants to designated areas. The youthful, testosterone-laden males would then be snatched from their vehicles, zipped down, and voila—the job is done.

A few strips of bandage and they're off, on the road with an improved attitude.

Have I overlooked anything? Would your readers like to offer suggestions? One's ideas are never perfect.

But this one nearly is.