This morning, I was stuck in the middle lane of a three-lane metering light queue. I watched as cars were seemingly flung onto Highway 85, drivers flooring their accelerators and reaching higher-than-speed-limit velocities in a matter of seconds.

Sipping my coffee, the vision of these vehicles triggered something in my memory. I was suddenly reminded of Battlestar Galactica. I vaguely remember two things from that old television show:

1. the scene where the fighters were launched into space from the tubes of the warship
2. one of the characters was named Starbuck

As I reached the line, my eyes scanned the dashboard and my hands braced the steering wheel for my own "launching". With my back pressed against the seat and foot against the pedal, my fighter sedan went hurling down the freeway, lane markers zipping by at an incredible ahem 65 miles per hour. All of the while, my imagination was running away with me.

I would probably have less of these flights of fancy if I watched less television growing up and drank less coffee on Monday mornings.