Slow down where interstates meet

During a recent morning rush hour, I had a terrible scare. I was preparing to merge from 91 North onto 89 South, an onramp that has for many months been under construction. As I slowed down to view the traffic on my left that I would be merging into, I saw in my rear view mirror that the driver behind me was not slowing down at all.

They were barrelling down on me so fast that I had to swerve off to the right as safely as I could and came to a halt. As they accelerated past me, the driver blared their horn and rolled down their window to yell, “You don’t need to stop!”

I am not an overly anxious driver. But: One really does need to at least slow down — and sometimes, yes, even come to a full stop — in order to merge from 91 North onto 89 South while this construction is underway.

I’m thinking that this is partly about the Jersey barriers on the left side of the merging lane. Those in sedans can’t see over them until the last minute, while those in SUVs and other taller vehicles can probably see over them sooner and so don’t understand why some drivers need to wait till the last minute to determine whether it’s safe to merge.

Regardless of possible reasons why this adrenalin-pumping moment happened, I want to say that I-91/I-89 is a very difficult merging situation as long as construction is going on, especially at morning rush hour. Please, people, be willing to slow down, or even stop, to make it safe for everyone.

Dia Ballou

Windsor

USPS can’t compete

The USPS has lost the package delivery wars. It has allowed the likes of Amazon, UPS and FedEx to overburden the local distribution centers.

It has compounded this problem by not adding staff and by apparently undercharging for delivery and sorting.

Its new plan is ill-conceived and fraught with unintended consequences, to wit: Delays in last mile, sending and receiving regular mail services, potentially causing financial chaos and disrupting of families due to job losses.

The cost vs benefit on deployment timing and disruptions alone are staggering and incomprehensible.

Joe Alvin

White River Junction

Complicit to a crime

I resent being a criminal. The radio and the newspaper remind me of my crimes every day. There’s a real-time, live-streamed genocide going on, and I’m helping to pay for it, whether I like it or not. Seeing starving children blown up with gifted American bombs month after month just doesn’t sit right with me, but I know I will keep on paying taxes to help kill more of them. And that sucks.

I’ve been conditioned over the years to regard criminals with contempt, so it galls me to be a gangster myself. Especially since I’m not just some small-time hood; I’m big-time bad. I’m a member of the strongest, meanest gang of criminals on this planet. Too harsh? Well, I guess it’s only true if you respect International Court of Justice judgments or near-unanimous United Nations resolutions, which we don’t.

I can’t even fault my Congressional delegation. Rep. Balint and Sens. Sanders and Welch have been trying hard to oppose U.S. policy in Gaza. Former Sen. Leahy even wrote laws barring military aid to forces that commit war crimes! And yet, the genocide continues, making all of them reluctant criminals as well.

Netanyahu and his crew will be remembered as the most corrupt, incompetent and criminal government in Israel’s history. However, they’re just the pied pipers of this bloody con job. The fuel for Palestinian extermination isn’t coming from Israel, it’s coming from our own defense industry’s addiction to free money. The genocide won’t stop until the money does.

I’ve kicked a little bit against my crimes. I’ve written to politicians and newspapers. Congress’ gangster move, stripping funding from UNRWA, makes me sick, so I’m making a small monthly donation. But my resentment isn’t unbearable, like Airman Aaron Bushnell’s evidently was: He was simply unwilling to be a criminal any longer. What will it take for the rest of us?

John Payson

Thetford Center

Laughter at Northern Stage

Northern Stage is presenting a laugh-out-loud funny play called “The Play That Goes Wrong.” The show is a wonderful slapstick comedy about a small-town theater production of a murder mystery. Take a break from your stress and worries and go to the show!

Helen Skeist

Canaan