I'm not one to tell other people how to live, but I've seen some things in the last few weeks that have put me on the soapbox.

Sometimes it's not worth it to hurry. Whether it's the person in line behind you for that morning coffee or that soccer mom swerving her SUV through traffic like an ambulance, people are trying to get somewhere fast.

One late afternoon I watched a car scream into the parking lot of the Mansfield commuter rail station. The driver zipped into a spot and then sprinted for the train which had already begun to pull away.

A conductor screamed, "No. Too late."

But this woman wasn't to be denied. Running like Randy Moss, she caught up with the train. She made it. Almost. In a desperate act, she grabbed a hand rail but couldn't get her legs up. The train was rolling fast by then. Wherever she was going must have been important because she hung onto the train like it was the last helicopter out of Baghdad. Somehow she managed to pull herself up. Minus a shoe, she sat down as if she hadn't just cheated death. The conductor came over and threatened to kick her off but gave up when he couldn't get through to her how dangerous jumping on a moving train is.

Not long after that, the trains in the morning were all backed up. Another passenger had made a similar run for it. A conductor told me there was some "dragging" involved and that it was "gross." Unless this guy was carrying an organ for transplant, it probably wasn't worth it. More than likely he was rushing to get to work. On a not unrelated topic, most people don't like their jobs.

On a crisp fall day, returning from a run and thinking about how everyone is in a rush, I slowed to let a small pickup truck pass through a four-way stop. No one else was around as the driver pulled out. Out of nowhere a car came barreling down the hill, flying past the St. John's school at high speed. The car slammed on its brakes, stopping inches from the pickup in the middle of the intersection. The driver then calmly rolled down her window and said, "I have to get to work," as if that was a good enough reason to have almost crunched the poor guy.

In many ways I'm not much better. Usually I'm rushing around. Then late one night I got a wake up call. Without warning the brakes on my car let go. I was seconds away from pulling onto the highway, which would have been serious trouble. I had visions of a mangled mass of steel resting by the side of the road. After an intense moment of fear and clarity, I was able to use the emergency brake to come to a quick halt.

The guy behind me, following too close, was able to swerve out of the way. He was probably in a hurry.

After I realized there was no hope of driving my car home (the brake lines had snapped) I was forced to use that all too familiar, half push, half steering move.

With the door open I strained to get the car rolling.

After a while I cleared the road. Only then did I realize that half a dozen people were watching me. Watching! Once I was finished they rushed out of there, off to something important no doubt.