By Keith Raho

During the OG days of COVID when I worked strictly from home, I was confident this work arrangement would never end. However, I developed a mounting suspicion that something was coming down the pike.

I didn’t realize it would be me going down the pike.

Commuting to Boston from Longmeadow, especially after my COVID Work Hibernation, is no easy feat. A typical drive down 90 East will take me two hours. An hour flat if I go 95.

Miles per hour.

On the days I’m not so lucky, traffic is my jam.

I learned a lot living on the highway. If you leave on the early side, you’ll be stuck in “fall asleep at the wheel” traffic. If you leave at a reasonable hour, you’ll be stuck in “rush hour” traffic. And if you leave on the late side, you’ll be stuck in “people who will lose their jobs that day” traffic (my least favorite option). It’s a Three Little Bears scenario where everyone loses. For those who somehow beat the traffic, they get the anticlimactic prize of work.

Aside from the traffic, it’s jarring to leave the oasis of Longmeadow for the stress of navigating Boston. In Longmeadow, it’s an offense if you don’t provide a neighborly wave after you enter somebody’s lane. In Boston, it’s an offense if you don’t trample several cones and a Jersey barrier to keep the traffic moving. Driving through Boston after coming from Western Mass is like traveling to a foreign country and hoping they don’t know you’re an American. I have the same Massachusetts plate as them, but they somehow know I’m not cut out for this.

It’s a challenging state of affairs, which is why I suppose my Grandpa always warned us against the dangers of Commutism. Now I think I know what he was talking about!

But I try to keep my glass, I mean gas, half-full. Driving through the inky dreariness of early morning into the many colors of dawn has a Wizard of Oz effect that is truly communal. All of these amazing people had the initiative to wake up early, get dressed, have breakfast, sneak out of the house without waking the kids – just to sit in traffic. If that doesn’t take resolve, I don’t know what does.

I can only hope that someday, we’ll colonize a planet where commuting isn’t required. If so, sign me up! I feel I could definitely handle the years of space travel toward that distant world. If other unflinching volunteers are needed, I’d suggest checking out the Mass Pike West on a Friday afternoon.

Until then, I’ll just keep truckin’ on. Traveling with ant-like determination. Taillights down the highway.