Tuesday, August 22, 2017

On The Fast Track

I used to be against carpool lanes and express lanes.  This was my reasoning.

If you’re going to force people to travel with at least one other person, then there must be a better way of doing it, such as some sort of positive reinforcement to the people engaging in it, but without being a detriment to those not doing it.  And removing one lane from a five lane freeway, which is the size of most freeways in the Los Angeles area, is a detriment to the greater public.  That’s a 20% in driving space suddenly taken away from a work force and a travel force, many of whom could not possibly commute with someone else given the insane distances that comprise Southern California. 

And then there’s another thing.  Enforcement.  Carpool lanes are extremely difficult for law enforcement to monitor.  It’s not like there are little ramps along the carpool lanes on which motorcycle officers can sit and dole out citations as single travelers pass by illegally.  I see so many drivers in the carpool lanes who are single occupants, and non-hybrid/electric vehicles, that it makes my head spin.  What a foolish plan for such a large urban area; the honor system. 

Sunday, July 30, 2017

Night Duster


It was a typical summer evening in the Central Valley; still very warm and humid air and a flat horizon all around with just a few ribbons of car lights indicating distant roads.  We were driving back down Highway 99 south of Bakersfield after an afternoon of getting a few things done for Brenda’s parents.

To our right at about Two O’Clock appeared off in the distance a bank of horizontal lights that were moving above the ground.  We quickly identified them as the flying lights of a crop duster spread out across it’s wings.  The pilot made sweeping turns and dips down to the dark fields for maybe fifteen seconds, and would then ascent back up and into the black sky.  There were moments when we couldn’t see him at all as he turned away from our direction.  But sure enough, the row of lights reappeared as he flew in our direction, maybe two or three miles from us.

Saturday, May 20, 2017

"She's A Valley Girl And There Is No Cure"

My last visit there to the original mall has always haunted me.  I was reminded of the poignant memory after reading Kevin D. Williamson’s article, “Closing Time,” in the National Review this week.

During my high school days at Ulysses S. Grant, and with my girlfriend Trish, I went to what probably amounted of hundreds of movies in the General Cinema Theater on the third floor.  I even saw “Fast Times At Ridgemont High” in that theater.  It was a strange feeling walking out of the theater at the end of the film through the entrance that had just been a location for the movie I had just seen. 

I remember going to Perry’s Pizza, and to the arcade.  I often visited my friend, Debbie who worked at Crabtree and Evelyn inside the mall.  She always seemed surprised to see me for some reason.  “Ah, we’ve spent most of our pre-adult lives in this mall, Debbie, so don't be so shocked.”  Debbie was one of the cuter girls who ever worked in the Galleria, so he naiveté was always excusable in my book.