Saturday, August 27, 2016
Things aren't looking too good out there on the freeways this afternoon, Bob.
Madness, sadness and slow death continue to be an issue as drivers make the slow crawl home.
Southbound on the 405 we have a head-on collision of mid-life panic. A driver in the left lane is frantically twisting the knob on his stereo. So far nothing yet to soothe his creaking husk of a corporeal vessel as it hurdles along the expressway, sealed within a 2004 Honda Civic with deteriorating gaskets, 45ft feet above the Glenn Reynolds apartments, a Maxwell's mini-storage and Donuts 4 U.
Celine Dion is only slightly brightening the day of a driver of a green Saturn Vue westbound 10 just before you get to La Cienega. Her daughter is in the backseat pouting because she hates her new teacher who yelled at her to sit down even though she really had a question about problem #12 and the stupid girls behind her were the ones who dared Oscar to make the sound of an elephant. But how many times has she heard this song before - she saw Titantic 4 times in 2 weeks when it came out and her girlfriends would squeal because Leo's hair was so cute and she would fantasize about him at night and dream of meeting someone who would take her hand just like Rose and run with her and she would follow him wherever he went. But all she does now is sit at the front desk of L8 radiology and enter patient id numbers into the booking server.
Not much movement on the 110 at Staples center. It appears AM 1070 is advertising gold again. Mike rolls his eyes and spits another sunflower shell into his travel mug. He's still thinking about the god-damn Mexicans he passed at the onramp, standing around the low-wall in front of Grayson's appliances. The faded 1960's font reminds him of how this country used to be, when a man could open up his own business and compete. Now the x-stretch iron extender bars are locked over the front windows, a pathetic For Lease sign barely visible. And these guys loitering in the parking lot for what, to low-ball some actual Americans who love their country and deserve to work for a decent living, not like these dirty illegals who will take anything and then go back to their gang-banger kids who have zero respect for anyone.
A bright spot on the 5 though at Long Beach. Things are opening up and a bleached blond sales rep in a black Mercedes S-Class just slowed to let a Blue Ford Fiesta merge in front of her. Her test results just came back from the biopsy and she's negative. Thank God for small miracles. Maybe she should call Geoff and have him pick up a bottle of something good to celebrate. Who gets cancer when they're 28? Jesus, that was scary. One minute you're meeting performance targets, paying down the Am Ex, planning a trip back East to visit family in Vermont - the next you're crying in the waiting room in a faded gray hospital gown.