Oh the drivers in my rearview mirror. The chagrin, the anguish, the utter astonishment. The bewildered palms in the air, the hunched shoulders, the open mouths and contorting heads. Because when you drive 40 on a curvy suburban boulevard and the speed limit is 45 or 50 and the other drivers want to go 60 or more, the performances I see in my rearview mirror are truly histrionic. It is quite pathetic. But not in a good way.