By David Beilstein
I LIKE to travel.
Currently, I’m not in a position where I get to do much of it — but when I do I claim it and own it and take pleasure in it. Burning up the asphalt from Orlando to New Smyrna Beach — where one out of a triumvirate of best friends lives — is one such trip I like to make. It’s almost a straight shot buzzing at 80 miles an hour across that battle zone known as I-4. War torn and heavily traveled, I-4 has a pretty unpleasant reputation.
But you can be careful. And you can be watchful… you can even be cautious and there is no law forcing you to text-while-driving-yourself into a collision. I-4 is safe if you have clean windshields, lots of windshield fluid, workable lights, and stick to clear and concise lane changes giving other drivers the salute before making a dramatic move.
Getting to I-4 is another thing entirely. I got stopped by seven — seven! — red lights on Aloma Avenue before I was able to hang left onto 417-east — merging like a shark to intercept the neon-lit slide of I-4, plunging like a low-slung tomahawk across the pitch-black waters of what body of H20 I do not know.
I exhaled and gripped my steering wheel tighter each time that blaring, awful red screamed.
But back to the stop lights on Aloma Avenue and Orange County in general. No, not the city limits where Orlando’s limited skyline rises. Just plain old Orange County.
There are too many stoplights.
Whoever makes up the city planning commission in Orange County, Fla., needs to stop and learn to repeal laws. There are way too many stoplights up north but there still too many down south. Sometimes, I daydream about political figures — anybody! — deciding to run; someone competent and serious whose entire political platform will be the systematic repealing of unnecessary laws in this country.
They can start at the top. But sometime I pray it gets to the local communities. The simple fact of the matter is traveling isn’t as much fun as it used to be because of this damn madness with stoplights catching cars like flies.
I’m 36 years old. Not a kid, but not old. A man and not a mouse. And driving is already less fun for me.
We often hear about red tape. It clogs the system up people seem to echo. That’s because of all the damn laws. There have been far better thinkers and everyone else than me who has mentioned this before.
But someone needs to say it. That someone is the American voter.
Stop voting for this stuff.
It’s been a disaster and it is not working. There are too many stoplights — and far too many laws. Aloma Avenue looks like a circus with low hanging fruit always flashing and always halting — always and forever at the worst times.
Repeal! Repeal! Repeal!
Easy to say, harder to do, but if they actually do it — you will feel better too.