Our small university town is undergoing some major road renovations. There are three main exits from the highway into the town, and for some reason, all three were scheduled for work simultaneously.

It’s not like the work isn’t needed. One of the off-ramps is right near the high school and is also a main connection to the university. At around eight o’clock in the morning, that off-ramp backs up for miles on the freeway.

The second off-ramp is the one into the center of town. It becomes a secondary flow for traffic when the first one is backed up. At around eight in the morning and close to five in the afternoon, it comes to a near standstill.

The third off-ramp has extensive construction going on around it and is also the main thoroughfare for those going to the local Walmart. Everything is reduced to twenty-five miles an hour, but don’t plan on going that speed. Around four in the afternoon, it comes to a standstill.

When I need to travel at the peak times, I turn on my GPS, which routes me out of town on a small country road to the next small town. But apparently, others are getting the same information as I am, because there is a line of cars following that route.

To help things out initially, stoplights were installed at the second interchange. Those worked amazingly well, and some people suggested they should just do that at all the off-ramps. Apparently, that solution was too easy. Instead, they are completely tearing things up and doing major renovations.

I was talking to a friend about it. Ted lives in another small town. That town only has a single ramp off the highway. If it is shut down, the only way in or out of town is to follow a narrow road for miles to where it connects to the state highway.

I knew they had endured significant construction last year, and I asked Ted how it went.

He smiled. “Before the construction started, everyone complained about all the problems with getting off at that off-ramp, but it was nothing compared to having it closed. For months we dealt with the challenge of going around. It was a big day when they finally opened it back up.”

“Was it better?” I asked.

This time, he laughed. “Better than what? Better than when they started?” He shook his head. “I don’t think they really did anything different from what was there before. They may have widened it a bit and put in curbing, but there was no difference in the traffic flow.”

“I bet everyone was upset about that,” I said.

He shook his head. “On the contrary. Have you ever heard the story of the man and his wife who complained to an old sage that their home was too small? He told them to bring the cow inside. They tried it for a week and said it didn’t help. He also told them to bring in the horse. Again, they tried it for a week and said it didn’t help. He kept having them add more animals until they couldn’t move. He then told them to put all the animals out. Suddenly, they found their home was roomy, and they were happy.”

“So, the construction was like that?” I asked.

He nodded. “After how miserable it was trying to get anywhere during the construction, even though they really didn’t do anything, it seemed like it was so much better when they finished. Everyone was happy and complimented them on a job well done.”

I laughed. “Maybe that’s why they decided to do all three exits in our town at the same time. Everyone will probably feel it is a wonderful job when it’s done, no matter what they do.”

“It’s always a possibility,” Ted said, “and likely happens more often than we think.”