http://www.raisingbakersfield.com/home/Blog/HeatherIjames/29019 I hate to admit it, but more often than not I am one of those crass drivers in the morning commute.  Depending on how much sleep I had the night before, or how many times I got elbowed by a four year old in a bed he should no longer be sleeping in, I honestly do believe I can get to my destination faster by one car's length when not letting someone merge into my lane at a backed up red light. This belief, which can more accurately be described as a poor attitude, is something I try to work on in hopes to eradicate.  One morning, I was doing just that.  The back up at the red light was not too bad and I was feeling charitable towards the young woman in the silver 4Runner trying to pull out of the Shell station into my lane.  I stopped well over a car length's distance behind the car in front of me, the classic indication of "go ahead and pull out."  She didn't.  But, seeing as I didn't  wake up once during the previous night's slumber, even when the aforementioned four year old apparently climbed over me to get to the middle of the bed, I continued to leave the space in front of me wide open.  As the light turned green, I ducked my head to the side of my rearview mirror and gave the young woman the wave off to jump ahead of me.  What she did in return was what all of us with closet driving kindness pray for.  She waved thank you back.  And it wasn't just an obligatory wave.  The kind where you spike your hand up fast and only give it a second's thought whether or not the driver behind you can see your measly little hand through your tinted back window.  No, this was a great thank you wave.  She smiled grandly, and waved so big her upper body shook and jiggled in glee.  Consisting of the sort of excitement that made me think it more aptly belonged in a situation where a thirteen year old girl had been staring at Johnny all through lunch across the track field, when Johnny finally gave her a nod to say hello and she reciprocating by waving wildly back.  I couldn't help but smile.  In fact, I smiled the whole way to work.  Even while monitoring the three tenths of a gallon used to drive downtown.  I'm still smiling.  So, thank you Ms. Waver.  That was special of you.          I hate to admit it, but more often than not I am one of those crass drivers in the morning commute.  Depending on how much sleep I had the night before, or how many times I got elbowed by a four year old in a bed he should no longer be sleeping in, I honestly do believe I can get to my destination faster by one car's length when not letting someone merge into my lane at a backed up red light. This belief, which can more accurately be described as a poor attitude, is something I try to work on in hopes to eradicate.  One morning, I was doing just that.  The back up at the red light was not too bad and I was feeling charitable towards the young woman in the silver 4Runner trying to pull out of the Shell station into my lane.  I stopped well over a car length's distance behind the car in front of me, the classic indication of "go ahead and pull out."  She didn't.  But, seeing as I didn't  wake up once during the previous night's slumber, even when the aforementioned four year old apparently climbed over me to get to the middle of the bed, I continued to leave the space in front of me wide open.  As the light turned green, I ducked my head to the side of my rearview mirror and gave the young woman the wave off to jump ahead of me.  What she did in return was what all of us with closet driving kindness pray for.  She waved thank you back.  And it wasn't just an obligatory wave.  The kind where you spike your hand up fast and only give it a second's thought whether or not the driver behind you can see your measly little hand through your tinted back window.  No, this was a great thank you wave.  She smiled grandly, and waved so big her upper body shook and jiggled in glee.  Consisting of the sort of excitement that made me think it more aptly belonged in a situation where a thirteen year old girl had been staring at Johnny all through lunch across the track field, when Johnny finally gave her a nod to say hello and she reciprocating by waving wildly back.  I couldn't help but smile.  In fact, I smiled the whole way to work.  Even while monitoring the three tenths of a gallon used to drive downtown.  I'm still smiling.  So, thank you Ms. Waver.  That was special of you.          en-us