Joe. Zippy, Smart...we know.

Joe is smart. We need not this article to confirm this.

He's Zipping Along, But You're Seething
Monday, June 26, 2006; B03

We are the lemmings, swarming off a precipice into highway purgatory five days a week. An occasional Page Three feature on the daily commute. You're sitting in traffic, going four miles an hour. Gas-brake-gas-brake -- your head aches. Wondering how far the line of traffic stretches beyond the hulking SUV that blocks your view. Not really wanting to know, just the same.

And Joe McDonald comes whizzing by in the other direction. He's testing the speed limit; you're testing the brakes. You're cursing the creep who cut you off; he's learning all about the plight of the tsetse fly from NPR.

This is the guy you love to hate. He commutes from the city to the suburbs. Why didn't you think of that?

For him, there's no traffic. There's no stress. There's no counting the dollars of gas (remember when it was pennies?) burn up in a 10-mile jam. There's no being late for work.

McDonald says things that no normal, gridlock-fearing American would say. Like this: "I'm very happy every day. I'm able to move pretty freely."

Well, la-di-da for you.

McDonald works in Rockville. His commute begins in Cleveland Park and goes west on Massachusetts Avenue. As he set out on a recent weekday morning, a long line of cars headed the other way was backed up.

"I'm very thankful I'm not in that line," McDonald remarked. "I feel bad for them all."

The smugness! McDonald coasted into Maryland and hooked up with River Road, the Capital Beltway and Interstate 270 without a hitch. On his side of the road, there were hardly any cars.

Meanwhile, miles of cars were crawling toward the city or Tysons Corner. McDonald passes 23 stoplights on his 17-mile ride, and today they all seemed to turn green just in time for our hero to pass through. But, really, is it as bad as it looks when you're going in the other direction?

Only one way to find out.At 8:22 a.m. a couple days later, I left his office in Rockville and headed to his house in the city, just as he set out from his home for his office. It took me about three minutes to turn onto I-270, where, as it happened, there was no delay!

On WTOP's traffic report, Lisa Baden sounded more than a bit surprised about this odd turn of events. Every time the clock hit 8, she'd say 270 is clear from Germantown to the Beltway, as if she couldn't quite believe it. Take that, McDonald!

I cruised down the highway and exited the Beltway in 15 minutes. I called McDonald. He was just getting onto the Beltway. We were tied! I could taste the sweet nectar of prevailing-traffic-flow victory.

Then I hit the traffic. Like a slap. Where did all these cars come from? How did they get in front of me?

He called 13 minutes later. He'd made it to his office in a snappy 28 minutes. "Enjoy the rest of your ride," he said cheerfully.

I got to his home 15 minutes after he got to his office. And this was an exceptionally good day.So maybe we shouldn't despise McDonald. Maybe he's just smarter than the rest of us.

-- Steven Ginsberg