Today was my last day to go to the DPSS office that services Skid Row. As always, there were some interesting characters in the office. Like the man in the metallic blue parachute pants who was doing headstands in the office. And the man in the blue suede shoes who serenaded me with a little George Thorogood, followed by some Whitney Houston.
Traffic was bad in the downtown area on our way to the office. One of my coworkers found out that this was due to someone jumping off a bridge into the traffic below. Such tragedy.
On my way home this afternoon, there was a motorcyclist down on Interstate 10. A Good Samaritan motorist had stopped the entire set of eastbound traffic to make sure no one ran over the injured cyclist. I hope everyone is okay.
When I emerged from the tunnel in Santa Monica on to the PCH, I was struck by the massive change in scenery. From Skid Row to suicide to highway tragedy to… well, unspeakable beauty. The sun was setting over the mountains, and lavender clouds hovered over the beautiful blue waves tossing the surfers around. Skaters and bicyclists and joggers lazily passed each other beside the palm-tree-lined ocean. It was a breathtaking sight. And eventually I ended up in my hometown, a city known worldwide for its wealth. And I turned in to my specific home, the most beautiful campus in the richest country in the history of the planet.
It was at this point that my brain sort of fell apart. The tragedy and the beauty combined to work a little overload on my brain circuitry. Too much for a Tuesday.
I’d better get some sleep if I’ve got a shot at handling whatever Wednesday has in store.
Minutes to Memories 