A Los Angeles traffic jam I can, and have, handled in a standard transmission. Where automatics shine is in certain traffic jams in San Francisco--say, bumper-to-bumper halfway up one of our steeper hills, where a four- or five-speed requires far more rigorous fontal lobe input than slow driving ought to, particularly when some arsehole with an automatic has pulled up to within three inches of your rear bumper.
These special situations apart I'm disposed to paraphrase (rather broadly) Truman Capote's dismissal of Jack Kerouac and sneer "That's not driving--it's steering."
cordially,