It was an ordinary day, rich with the unexpected: morning and evening I narrowly avoided car crashes. I was unharmed, but strangely stirred. First came reckless driving at the roundabout. The way looked clear and I drove ahead. The car on my left which I expected to turn left or go straight instead changed lanes and followed the roundabout—crossing in front of me—towards the right exit. I slammed on the brakes to let the crazy driver pass. “Good driving, Mister Magoo!” I muttered. He—thick glasses, florid jowls and a white bandage on his bald head—glared at me, outraged to see…