Honk! Honk! Can you hear me Pak Lah?

'If I had a M1A2 Abrams tank, I could blow and smash all these @#$@!$% to smithereens. Then I'd be a free man..hahaha!'

It was in the middle of that villainous laughter that I realised how traffic jams were driving me dangerously insane and those who have watched Michael Douglas' Falling Down would know what I mean.

In reality, the situation in the Klang Valley (I am not sure about the rest of the country) is far from humorous. At any given time or day, there is an orgy of cars, immorally close, hogging the highways, byways and every other way.

The situation is compounded by traffic lights that go from green to red in 10 seconds, workers who have a penchant for digging or tarring the busiest of roads at peak hours, cops who close important access roads for reasons best known to them, gaping potholes that could double as elephant traps and the stream of intimidating heavy vehicles.

One relic from the colonial past which adds to the woes, but which town planners see fit to retain despite the dizzying escalation in the volume of cars since Independence, are roundabouts.

Apart from adding a spherical touch to the normally linear gridlock, these plates on the road only serve to enrich those who have been contracted to plant pretty flowers and erect colourful fountains on them.

But when you're trapped in a bumper-to-bumper crawl in the sweltering heat, flowers and running water somehow fail to bring about the calming effect which feng shui masters claim they do. On the contrary, I am always tempted to just plough through the whole lot and get to the other side.

Up until December, the jams never really mattered as I used to weave through traffic on a motorcycle. But when a close friend died in an accident recently, I decided to dispose my iron steed and use the car instead.

So I started driving from Puchong - which does not have LRTs or Monorails - to Bangsar on a daily basis. Now a month later, I'm wondering if there are any job vacancies near my house or whether I should risk life and limb on a motorcycle again.

To make matters worse, I drive a car with a manual gear shift. So if I am not crawling along Old Klang Road between first and second gear, I would be doing it along the so-called Damansara-Puchong 'expressway' or the infamous Federal Highway.

On average, I reach home at about 10pm, although I may finish work around 6.30pm. Anyhow, I am forced to wait until the jam subsides as attempts to do otherwise in the past resulted in a pinched nerve in my left leg, which a doctor said is probably due to depressing the clutch for prolonged periods.

One disturbing but common scene at traffic jams are ambulances and fire engines that snail along with blaring sirens. Hence, the problem is not only exhaustive and stressful, but life-threatening as well.

(In order to be on the safe side, pray that you get your heart-attack in the wee hours of the morning).

Another thought, apart from trampling vehicles with a tank, which keeps popping up during my gridlock sojourns, is to file a civil suit against the government, highway concessionaires and errant contractors for the stress and injury suffered.

It is not about claiming exorbitant damages but to get them to take the problem seriously.

Sadly, only a lawsuit or the death of a dignitary who failed to seek prompt medical attention would get things moving here (more so if it is the latter) simply because the government always acts after rather than before. The exception being national security matters.

The country now has its fifth prime minister, who in turn has appointed the nation's ninth deputy prime minister and much is expected of the duo after a 22-year-reign by the former premier.

Abdullah Ahmad Badawi has vowed to battle corruption and stressed that priority will only be given to projects that improve the quality of life. All well and good.

Now the premier may not see traffic jams as a national problem of pressing importance since he is chauffeur driven and has outriders to ensure a clear passage. But things are pretty bad for the lesser mortals who voted him in, especially the lesser than lesser mortals who drive vehicles with manual gear shifts. (By this, I mean those who drive Protons and Peroduas, not the manual Porsches and its kind).

Kuala Lumpur may be a cosmopolitan city as far as its skyscrapers, mammoth shopping malls and vogue clubs are concerned but the traffic is torturous to say the least.

In the macro scheme of things, time is wasted while stress lowers productivity and leads to health problems. These are detrimental to the country's economic and social well-being.

So Mr Prime Minister, please get your esteemed colleagues to do something about this or I'm investing in a M1A2 Abrams battletank and there better be no jams in Putrajaya.

(Disclaimer: The last sentence is not an assassination threat but an illustration of how important it is to preserve the mental health of the public to ensure political longevity)