What Do We See On The Horizon?
Counting our blessings on even our darkest days.
Nobody walks in LA. I lived there for ten years, and so much of that time was spent in the car. Especially the years when I had internships in the San Fernando Valley. Each day after classes I’d spend an hour or more in slow moving traffic driving up and down the 405 freeway. I got to know the landmarks well. There are the exits that lead into fancy neighborhoods, and the stretch that takes you past important Jewish cultural buildings like the Skirball Museum and the American Jewish University. When you drive a road like that day after day you get to know the more mundane landmarks as well. You notice certain bends in the road, quirky billboards, exits with interesting names. This is why, after years of driving that road, when a certain 405 overpass received media attention this week, I recognized the location immediately. It was like a sense memory. Seeing the pictures of that overpass, I could remember what it felt like to sit for hours in the LA traffic, surrounded by anonymous people all stuck inside their own vehicles. I remember taking in the smell of smog and air conditioning feeling dazed, as we all gazed up at the road ahead.
What it must have felt like to be at a standstill on that road last Saturday. I assume all of the drivers on the road could see that there was something unusual on the horizon. And…
