A beat up pickup came into view as I rounded a curve a mile from home. The old guy driving was creeping along so I waited for him to get up to road speed. He never did. At one point I was coasting on flat ground and keeping up.

I muttered and fidgeted, exhaled and whined. Finally, I backed off to a safe following distance and let it alone. I wasn’t late, and there was no reason to drive my normal speed other than habit. No use in harassing some old farmer heading to Tractor Supply.

As the scenery slowly moved by, a couple of things dawned on me. First, the old guy in front of me probably wasn’t that much older than I was. He also was driving at what he thought was the accepted and comfortable rate of speed. The distinction between us was one of perception.

My driving over the 45 years I have spent behind the wheel has largely been safe and efficient. I can favorably compare my record to almost anyone. Yet, I speed enough to technically break the law but drive slow enough to relax those riding with me. At least most of them.

The pickup truck in front of me was being driven by a person who is used to much slower speeds. I’ve seen him before; he spends more time on a tractor than in a truck and 30 mph probably seems much faster to him than to me. If I were driving around the Talladega race track, I would appear much like the old farmer to race car drivers. It’s about perception and what we are comfortable with.

Traveling the highways of this country is maybe the best way to see how different humans are. Statistics say we all think we are above average drivers, which isn’t possible. Comedians remind us that anyone who drives faster than us is a maniac; the ones going slower are morons.

When you consider how many dissimilar driving scenarios there are in America and multiply that by how many different personalities are taught to drive by other different personalities, it is a wonder any of us can make it through each day without calling the insurance company to report an accident. But we do. Most drivers blow off a little steam and accept the other guy for what he is; regardless of what we think he is.

I wonder why we can’t do the same with the rest of our daily activities. We separate by race, religion, sex, and region of the country. Anyone who grew up in Society Hill, S.C., or Millport, Ala., has strong opposing views to those who were raised in New York City or for that matter, Atlanta.

Yet, we systematically discount the feelings, attitudes, and lifestyles of those who behave or think different from us. Our own life histories have hammered each of us into the shape we are. Anyone with different experiences is going to have a hard time accepting our beliefs without question.

What gives any of us the right to tell the rest of the population they are wrong and we are right?