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AN L.A. TRAFFIC DIARY   PDF  Print  E-mail 
Please excuse my handwriting. I wrote this while driving on the 405 in LA during morning rush hour one day.

7:15 – It is hard to get the temperature just right on venti drinks from Starbucks. If I don’t add “warm” or a specific temperature to the ever-growing list of adjectives it takes to order a drink, it takes to long for the drink to cool down. And in the morning, I have usually procrastinated to the point where I need the caffeine IMMEDIATELY. (Case in point: I was once caught lying on the kitchen counter on my back with my mouth under the dripping coffee machine.) I can also never get to the bottom of the cup before the drink gets too cool to finish and then I feel as though I have wasted over a dollar or more. I think I just need to suck it up, specify a temperature – say 110 to 115 degrees – and order a grande.

But I fear adding all those adjectives somehow detracts from my overall manliness – what little there is. Steve McQueen, Humphrey Bogart, Jack London, Ernest Hemmingway – you don’t see these guys ordering a venti, non-fat, not-too-hot, sugar-free vanilla, wimp-ass latte with two Sweet-n-Low’s. They drink their coffee strong and black, strong enough to go a couple of rounds with the old, mean George Foreman.

 

7:20 – Ah, the 405. I love freeways. After growing up in Houston, another sprawling metropolis, I have come to rely on freeways as compass system. I was never lost if I could find a freeway – except in the Bay Area. I lived there for four years and never got the freeways straight. They remained a jumbled bowl of numer-shaped Spaghetti-O's. All of the numbers are too similar - the 80, the 280, the 580, the 680, the 880, Haight-y Ashbury. That’s just ridiculously boring for a region as creative as the Bay Area. There should be more exciting, catchier names for the freeways. Electronic  Expressway. Robin William’s Back Hair Freeway. The Clogged Artery. TBE – TransBay Expressway. Who can I contact about this?

 

7:23 - I have to say that XM Radio rocks the free world. I love it. It is a great way to pass the time when sitting in traffic. There are over 100 channels of every genre imaginable, except of techno-klesmer or thrash-bluegrass. The dash display tells you the name of the band and the name of the song. This is great if you are like me and are always on the look out for new music. The only problem is with so many choices I can’t settle on one station. Okay, heard that song, don’t like it, gotta go to the next station. Okay, heard that song, like it, right the band’s name down, go to the next station. Repeat ad nauseu. It becomes addictive. XM Radio should be called Crack Radio. I’ve found myself sitting in my car or taking a longer route so that I can listen and scan longer. More, more, gimme gimme gimme. Once, when arriving home, I was so caught up it scanning and listening and scanning and listening that I pulled into the garage, absent-mindedly closed the door with the automatic opener but left the car running and sat there scanning and listening and scanning and listening for too long. Only near asphyxiation got me out of the car and away from Crack Radio.

 

7:25 – It appears I have a Traffic Buddy –  a car in the adjacent lane that you essentially play leap-frog with, passing each other as lanes moves different speeds but passing each other multiple times. Are there any rules of etiquette for this sort of thing? After how many passes is it appropriate to acknowledge your Traffic Buddy’s presence? Is it rude not to give some sign of acknowledgement after you both realize each other’s existence? What is the appropriate form of acknowledgement – a nod, a wave, sticking out your tongue?

 

7:33 – Thisisa tex . . . .t . . . u. . a. . . l represnen. . . t. . . a. . . t. . . .i. . .on ofdriving in t... r. . . a. . . f. . . f. . . ic.

 

7:35 – Traffic Buddy Update: I shouldn’t have stuck out my tongue. It was too early in the relationship and my Traffic Buddy doesn’t know me that well yet. I hope I did not irreparable damage to our relationship. It will be a long drive without a Traffic Buddy. I can’t be like some drivers, always picking up new traffic buddies after every acceleration. I tend to be monogamous with my Traffic Buddies. Okay, there was this one time when I got really drunk at a party and had a Traffic Buddy ménage a trios - but my other Traffic Buddy and I were seeing other people at the time so I don’t really think that should be held against me.

 

7:41 – My venti latte is now tepid. WWHBD? (What Would Humphrey Bogart Do?) Come on, Terry, be man! Slam it down!

 

7:43 – Suzanne Vega’s “Tom’s Diner” is now on. I couldn’t change the station fast enough while I was looking for my pen. Let’s all sing together – De de de de de de de de de . This will haunt me all day.

 

7:45 – Traffic Buddy Update: Ah, there we go, a friendly nod. We are on our way to a fulfilling monogamous relationship.

 

7:50 – This seems like a good time for my favorite traffic theme song, “Not My Idea” by Garbage:

 

 This is not my idea of a good time

This is not my idea of a good time

This is not my idea of a good time

This is not my idea.

 

7:53 – If I was to have my ride pimped, I would make sure to have messaging Laz-E Boy recliners for the driver and passenger sides, an espresso machine and Lindsay Lohan permanently installed.  

 

7:55 – I just saw a CHP officer on a motorcycle. I know Eric Estrada is gettin’ some gigs on Univision, Telemundo, The Surreal Life, but whatever happened to Larry Wilcox? The official Eric Estrada web-site plays the “CHiP’s” theme song played on some cheesy synthesizer as its theme music. I never thought I would hear that song again. I am so happy.

 

7:56 – In case you are wondering: It is harder to write going 70 mph than it is 20 mph. Driving with your knees is easy at both high and low speeds.

 

7:59 – Whenever I see the sign for Don Kott Ford off of the 405, I always think Don Knotts first. I know John Elway is making a bundle selling cars in Denver now. Why can’t Don Knotts? Would you buy a car from Don Knotts?  In a steel cage match, who would win – Mr. Furley or Mr. Roper? My money is on Mr. Furley. Underneath those pastel leisure suits I am sure there lurks the hard, tattooed body of a scrappy bantam weight fighter.

 

8:01 – I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I just sang “Laid” by James at the top of my lungs. My Traffic Buddy sped up. I think this may have been more damaging to our relationship – not to mention my manliness – than the tongue incident, which we both agreed not to bring up again.

 

8:14 – A Violent Femmes song just came on. Did you know the Femme’s lead singer, Gordon Gano, is also the founder of a gospel band called Mercy Seat. Add it up!

 

8:17 – Blah, blah, blah, some numbers, blah, blah. (Business call. Nothing remotely interesting to anyone, not even me.)

 

8:18 – De de de de de de de de de de.

 

8:20 – I am tempted to turn my phone off. I can always say the battery went dead and I didn’t have a car charger. Sometimes you just don’t want have your buzz killed by work. Speaking of buzz, I learned a new euphemism for hangover – the Tequila Flu.

 

8:23 - Oh No! My Traffic Buddy has just exited the freeway. I was given no warning about this. I am upset. I really thought we had something.

 

8:26 – Wow! Traffic just sped up. I’m doing 70 mph, while writing and driving with my knees.

 

8:27 – That fun was short lived. Now I am going 20 . . . 10 . . . 0 mph. Stop! Hammer time!

 

8:29 – I should hang a rubber chicken from my rearview mirror. Ya’ know, give all the other commuters something to laugh at, some entertainment. I’m generous that way.

 

8:30 - A Tori Amos song is on. Has the photo of her breast-feeding a piglet ever been fully explained? Who came up with this idea? How would Toru explain this to her daughter? “Mommy, when I grow up can I have a pig suck on my breast?” What kind of permanent mental and emotional scarring would I suffer if I saw my mother in this kind of photo?

 

8:31 – Word association with the street name Skirball: skeeball, screwball, hairball, curveball. “Let’s all have a ball and biscuit” – The White Stripes.

 

8:33 - I haven’t seen see as many people picking their nose as I thought I would. Maybe it is more of an evening commute thing.

 

8:34 – De de de de de de de de de de de.  If I ram my car into the center divider will the collision dislodge this infernal song from my head? Speaking of car crashes, two words: “Warm Leatherette”.  A song by the Normals. Grace Jones also did a version of the song in 1990. If you liked “Crash” with James Spader, you’ll dig this song.

 

8:35 - Bret Easton Ellis wrote in Less than Zero that people are afraid to merge on freeways in LA. I do not find that to be the case. People are just afraid to use their turn signal when merging.

 

8:36 - Ben Folds is on XM now. Sometimes he can really rock out – think Jerry Lee Lewis minus the underage cousin/wife and Elton John minus the costumes. However, other times his songs are sweet, bordering on treacly. Not that the sweeter songs don’t have their place - I picked one of his songs (“The Luckiest”) as a possible wedding song. If he wasn’t married I would worry that he would present one of these sweet songs to a girl that he was interested in and she would reject him. The upside of that scenario would be that he would write a funny song about that experience, given the appropriate amount of time for the wounds to heal.

 

8:40 – Ah, I’ve finally reached my destination. Five miles in one hour and twenty five minutes! I love LA!

 

A note from later in the day: Just watching for descending planes and following their trajectory is not the most efficient way of finding the airport when you a running late.

 

My upcoming “Guide to Traffic Buddy Etiquette: How to Have Fulfilling Relationships at Speeds of Less than the Posted Limit” can be pre-ordered at fortyfootbuffet@yahoo.com.

 
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