Reporter’s Notebook -- Young Chang

I was trying to merge left but the lane was packed.

A disgustingly hot sun didn’t help any and to top the whole annoying

deal off, I was late.

I slammed my elbow on the windowsill and smooshed my cheek against my

hand. Whatever. Whenever I get in, I’ll get in. I didn’t even try.

That’s when I saw him -- a guy in a white Toyota truck looking my way

from that coveted lane. He gave a head bob. Then he did it again, with

sort of a smile. I was shocked -- people still do this? -- and smiled

back.

The bob, in words, might have translated into “get in there.” But it

was familiar, too, and friendly. There might’ve even been a kiddo -- “get

in there, kiddo.”

So I did. Now I’m back at the office probably five minutes faster than

if that random driver hadn’t been so quietly nice. And I’m probably 10

notches merrier because one total stranger practiced rush-hour kindness.

Forget CD players -- and cute CD binders, air conditioners, air

fresheners, even spring-able, suctioned toys on the dashboard.

Motor-kindness might make the best driving accessory.

One of my editors goes so far as to use a prop. A pop-up Pez dispenser

that he sings into like it’s a mike when a driver in the next lane looks

sad. Ever seen him? Short brown hair, happy smile, periwinkle-blue car?

He sings animatedly, like a caricature in motion.

Imagine if you were witness to this comical, absurd charm. It’d make

for an unplanned laugh, a story to tell friends later, even a tidbit for

a column.

And motor fun includes passengers too.

Take this story -- one that made me miss my dad, who lives in Korea.

It was on the 55 freeway, at about 8 a.m. on a weekday. I was staring off

into space because we were literally inching along. Suddenly to my left,

I saw an Asian man with poofy gray hair pop half his torso out the

passenger window.

He asked me -- beseeched me with a waving hand -- to stop and let his

car through. He was frantic -- not mean, but thoroughly panicked. I

started laughing, a bit too much actually, and of course waved him in.

I got a glimpse of the driver -- an awkward teenage girl who I’m

guessing was the frantic man’s daughter. She wore big glasses and had her

hands at 10 o’clock and 2 o’clock on the steering wheel. She looked

terrified and embarrassed, probably grateful her dad got her into the

next lane and humiliated all at once.

The dad looked back and waved, as in thank you.

I waved too, and later called my dad.

* YOUNG CHANG is the Daily Pilot’s feature reporter.