I was planning to go to yoga tonight so I drove this morning.
There was an accident on the bridge and the backup to get on the freeway was bad enough that I considered taking a day off from work. I just didn’t have the stomach to sit in my car and roll forward in painful six-inch increments while cars coming in from all angles want to merge and then when finally arriving within sight of the freeway, fending off all the Lexus (plural: Lexi?) who bypass the line and drive to the front and turn on their turn signal, like they had no idea there was a line and can’t they just sneak in right there because they drive a Lexus and don’t care that you’ve been trying to get on the freeway for the past 45 minutes.
And I couldn’t find a traffic report to save my life. Does AM radio still exist? At one point I had all the local news channels programmed in for just these types of mornings. “Traffic on the 9s” “Traffic on the 7s” you just kept hitting the buttons until you found the traffic report for the current minute. This morning all I could raise was static and churchy programs.
So I drove all the way back to the transit center thinking, at least I won’t be stressed and I can read my book (The Guns of Avalon Fabulous) while we crawl over the bridge. Of course I couldn’t find my book when I got on the bus. It didn’t take as long as I thought (including driving back and forth being a wuss about the gridlock: 1 hr 20 minutes.) I guess the accident cleared quickly but, whatever. I’m here.
Last night we saw Colson Whitehead at Arts & Lectures. I remember when The Intuitionist came out it sounded like a book I’d want to read and it was on the list for a long time before I picked it up at the library. As I recall, I didn’t try very hard, but I didn’t get into it. Bob read a different one of his books last weekend and hated it.
When we walked out of the lecture last night we laughed because of all the authors so far, this is the one whose books we liked the least but it was our favorite lecture. He was really funny and doesn’t take himself too seriously. How often do you ever hear of a writer who likes television and puts in his bio that as a kid he loved Stephen King and Stan Lee? I’m going to try another one of his books.