Traffic during the Christmas Tree lighting is usually terrible downtown. Will drivers have visions of sugarplums or brake lights dancing through their heads? ²ÝÝ®´«Ã½ traffic reporter Dave Dildine penned a parody of a Christmas classic.
‘Twas the night of the tree lighting, when near the White House,
Many commuters were stirring, rushing home to their spouse;
A route ill-conceived, without alternates or care,
In hopes that traffic would flow freely here to there;
But the cars were gridlocked for blocks ahead,
With views of brake lights abeam and widespread;
Beyond the South Lawn there arose such a clatter,
The Christmas Tree road closures were the fact of the matter;
Out my rear window I saw a bright flash,
A red light camera clicks and away goes some cash;
When what out my passenger side did appear,
But a white-knuckled driver with his car in low gear;
The old driver was confident, lively and quick,
I knew in a moment his plan would be slick;
Steadfast as ever, at throngs he took aim,
And he whistled, shouted, cursed and called names:
“Now, driver! Now, cabbie! Now biker and walker!
Move, Honda! move, Ford! move, scooter and jaywalker!
Outbound to the freeway, from the National Mall,
Winter getaway! Getaway! Getaway all!”
I followed with haste, hoping his course was profound,
Down the 9th Street Tunnel crawling farther southbound;
From his tailpipe came smoke through gridded teeth,
Circling his red truck like a giant grey wreath;
But the wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon let me to know I had much less to dread;
Weaving between cars, he did most of the legwork,
Then accelerated firmly, and merged with a jerk;
Laying off his horn, our speed gradually rose,
And giving a nod, sticking with the lane that he chose;
On the Key Bridge he gave one final sharp whistle,
And away we all drove like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight —
“If you plan for the tree lighting, you will have a good night!”
