Take a breath. This town is 15 minutes wide.
Driving the speed limit here apparently counts as an insult. Do 25 in a 25 or 35 on Foothill and someone in a luxury sedan will be glued to your bumper, furious that physics exists. You will not save meaningful time driving like this. You might save 30 seconds. You might also destroy a family.
Last week my son — helmeted, lawful, riding an e-bike — was hit by exactly that kind of driver. His femur broke in three places. Without the helmet, he might not be alive. He was thrown 20 feet. The bike went under the truck. The driver didn’t see him. He heard him — because he was looking away, trying to thread a gap.
My son will carry the trauma forever. So will the driver. Fault does not cancel consequence.
So the next time you floor it for a yellow light, picture a child’s body leaving your hood. Then slow down. This town is small. Your hurry is not worth a life.
Calm the heck down.
