When the sunlight filters through the smog...
It's easy enough to forget that all the pretty colors represent a month or two of life lost with every breath you take.
Driving down the US-101, I see all these signs. Familiar road signs, even though I've never lived in California. Sunset, Santa Monica, Long Beach... they all bring up images of the sun beating down on palm trees and sand and ocean and golden people and their huge sunglasses going about their happy sunny lives. While the Ventura Highway breezes past me, as best as it can during early afternoon traffic, I try to imagine myself living in this world with the fancy cars and the wide freeways, with that big white sign in the hills, quietly watching the chaos unfold. That sign is a constant reminder that as bad as it gets, there are millions out there who would want to be in this place. Un-glamorous as it may be in real life, it is what the sign says. Bright lights, big city, baby. The promise of dreams coming true, milk and honey and stars living among us.
I squint my eyes as I look out for my exit and think, I'm just not the hollywood kind of girl. The only thing I want waving outside my window in the morning is an old weeping willow with its crooked swaying branches. When Spring finally comes along, I can forgive it for all its claw-like ugliness in the winter. Those beautiful purple-lavender-violet blooms, glorious on my front lawn, is enough to make me feel alive.
I can drive at 90 miles per hour on the quiet highways just outside of the city, wherever I am, whenever I need speed. Maybe, in my old age, I've just learned to appreciate the quiet a little bit more. The calm. The peaceful slumber of a city that sleeps. Once upon a time, living in a town so close to Sleeping Beauty's castle and Beverly Hills would seem like an absolute dream. Today, I'm just eager to get to my hotel room, order room service and tuck myself into bed.
I'll have my excitement on an occasional trip somewhere different, somewhere new. I don't have to wallow in it. I don't need the promise to be made everyday. I know it's out there. As for today, I can put on my big sunglasses, put Springsteen on the radio of my rented car, my rented life, and blend in with the crowd. When in Rome, when in the City of Angels. After 48+ hours, I would have, should have had my fill of the glamorous life. Then, tomorrow, I will go home. Well, not quite tomorrow, but Wednesday, which is soon enough. My strappy sandals are already starting to pinch.
Driving down the US-101, I see all these signs. Familiar road signs, even though I've never lived in California. Sunset, Santa Monica, Long Beach... they all bring up images of the sun beating down on palm trees and sand and ocean and golden people and their huge sunglasses going about their happy sunny lives. While the Ventura Highway breezes past me, as best as it can during early afternoon traffic, I try to imagine myself living in this world with the fancy cars and the wide freeways, with that big white sign in the hills, quietly watching the chaos unfold. That sign is a constant reminder that as bad as it gets, there are millions out there who would want to be in this place. Un-glamorous as it may be in real life, it is what the sign says. Bright lights, big city, baby. The promise of dreams coming true, milk and honey and stars living among us.
I squint my eyes as I look out for my exit and think, I'm just not the hollywood kind of girl. The only thing I want waving outside my window in the morning is an old weeping willow with its crooked swaying branches. When Spring finally comes along, I can forgive it for all its claw-like ugliness in the winter. Those beautiful purple-lavender-violet blooms, glorious on my front lawn, is enough to make me feel alive.
I can drive at 90 miles per hour on the quiet highways just outside of the city, wherever I am, whenever I need speed. Maybe, in my old age, I've just learned to appreciate the quiet a little bit more. The calm. The peaceful slumber of a city that sleeps. Once upon a time, living in a town so close to Sleeping Beauty's castle and Beverly Hills would seem like an absolute dream. Today, I'm just eager to get to my hotel room, order room service and tuck myself into bed.
I'll have my excitement on an occasional trip somewhere different, somewhere new. I don't have to wallow in it. I don't need the promise to be made everyday. I know it's out there. As for today, I can put on my big sunglasses, put Springsteen on the radio of my rented car, my rented life, and blend in with the crowd. When in Rome, when in the City of Angels. After 48+ hours, I would have, should have had my fill of the glamorous life. Then, tomorrow, I will go home. Well, not quite tomorrow, but Wednesday, which is soon enough. My strappy sandals are already starting to pinch.