General Motors is trying to kill me.

That's right. They want me dead.

I was driving the Buick tonight on the interstate. I foolishly set the cruise to 70mph, dangling my two index fingers on the wheel while I listened to The Supremes on 103.3, the oldies station.

The car gently rocked me back and forth in total comfort and quiet until I dozed off and ended up in the shoulder. The rumble strips woke me up.

Here's the funny part: I WASN'T TIRED. I got more than eight hours of regular sleep the night before. That freaking 'Dynaride' is like a Sudafed. The last car that made me this nappy was the '98 LS400, but it wasn't as severe. While it didn't rock back and forth or up and down, the heavy sound deadening and superb seat comfort put me in a mild state of hypnosis.