Just Another Car on the Road: Competing Interest.
It’s been a tough few weeks. The Suburban is down for service, so I am in a different truck.
When I was younger, I was taught that if you take care of your vehicle, it will take care of you. And for the most part, I’ve found that to be true — even if it’s more belief than science.
So here I am, riding in a loaner. It’s smaller. Some features are more intuitive. Others? More distracting.
For example, there’s no Siri. So now I’ve got to twist actual dials and toggle AM/FM to hear music. (I know — poor me. First-world pain. Boo-hoo.)
After a noble quest through static and noise, I finally land on a station that fits the vibe. But not long into my route, the signal starts bleeding. Another station cuts in.
And now, I’m irritated. I tuned it right. I set the tone. But something else is forcing its way into my space.
Competing interest.
I’m driving. Clients will soon be in the car. The mood is supposed to be set. I curated it. Made it wholesome, clean, conversational. But now? It’s off. Not by my doing — but still my responsibility.
So what do I do?
- Do I pull over to find a new station, risking being late?
- Do I fiddle with the dials while driving, risking safety?
- Do I turn it off, risking the vibe?
- Or… do I ride it out — let the noise play, adapt, and hope it settles?
Isn’t that just like life?
You can plan your day, your route, your dreams. You can maintain every tool you use. Do it all right.
Then out of nowhere, something hijacks the frequency.
You didn’t ask for it.
You didn’t cause it.
But here it is.
Now you’ve got to make a call.
Risk one thing for another.
Adapt or resist.
Accept or react.
With gritted teeth, clear focus, and a heart that knows what’s best — you keep moving.
Sometimes the road doesn’t offer perfect clarity. But still, we drive.
This is Ralph.
And I’m just another car on the road.