“Come on!  Seriously?” I yelled. Wifesy righted her chair, rubbed her eyes, and said, “What happened?” “I think I missed the 101.” “How in the hell did you miss the 101?” “Well, this HOV lane just magically turned into something else.  That’s how.” “The what?” she asked. “The HOV lane.” “You mean the carpool lane?” “Yeah, carpool lane/ HOV lane, same diff.” “No one calls it the HOV lane here,” she said.  “What does that even mean?” she added. “High Occupancy Vehicle, I believe.” “Well, don’t call it that.  People won’t understand you.” “Really?” I exhaled.  “Are they retarded?  Do they not speak English?!” “Well, no one calls it that here!” “The ex-New Yorkers do.  I bet there’s a slew of ex-New Yorkers who…