There are few things as depressing to me than coming around the curve on Spaghetti Junction and seeing a vast parking lot on 285 westbound all the way to the horizon.<\/p>\n
*sigh*<\/p>\n
On the positive side, I got to observe, for a looong time, in my rearview mirror, a juxtaposition of roles.<\/p>\n
There was a youngish woman with short cropped, bleach blond hair in a Dodge Ram pickup truck. In the passenger seat was a young boy whose eyes were just above the dash, kilroy-fashion.<\/p>\n
The mom was hyper-kinetic. She was smoking a cigarette, bouncing in her seat (not dancing, I don’t think… just bouncing), adjusting her mirror, reaching across to roll up and down the window, tapping her cigarette out her own window, adjusting the radio.<\/p>\n
Meanwhile, the smallish boy sat passively staring straight ahead, not reacting at all.<\/p>\n
I don’t know what it means, but I couldn’t stop watching.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
There are few things as depressing to me than coming around the curve on Spaghetti Junction and seeing a vast parking lot on 285 westbound all the way to the horizon. *sigh* On the positive side, I got to observe, … Continue reading