Aaaaand... I'm back. Just got home from LA awhile ago. And heralding my arrival was the creepy ice cream truck. Like clockwork! Even with Daylights Savings! Seriously, someone needs to check the back of that thing. Probably piled high with bones.
They say misery loves company, and on these trips back to LA, my company is my iPod. I usually just throw it on shuffle.
And the shuffle knows.
It's uncanny. I've made four trips back to civilization since the move, and this has happened EVERY SINGLE TIME. Headed out of town, about the time I hit Mettler, the shuffle shifts to happy music - mostly dance music from my decadent past and Madonna. Coming back from LA, once I pass Ft. Tejon and head down the Grapevine, the shuffle switches to mostly "Les Miserables" and classical dirges. (I mentioned I was gay, right?) The shuffle knows my pain.
Anyway, the trip was mostly painless. It wasn't technically to LA, but rather Burbank, which has it's own charm issues. Could be a Bako sister city. The "sophisticated" sister.
And as I made the decent down the Grapevine I was shocked to see Bako, and in fact the whole San Joaquin Valley, had been wiped off the map! Oh happy day! But who's kidding who - I knew it had just been swallowed up by the bad air. The air is grey, the sky, such as it is, is grey, it all just blends together and gives you the impression you're just descending into a void. And sure enough, the outlines of Hooterville appeared through the haze soon enough.
