2nd Place

3.3.2015

I've been working regularly lately (hooray!) and really love where I work.  It's the smallest of small shops, but the four guys I work with are talented, super friendly and hilarious.  They're all very good at what they do, too, and working with them is - dare I say? - "fun."  That's saying a lot, too, as almost all of the fun of doing visual effects has gone out of the job.

If I have one gripe about the job, it is that sometimes I have to make a 30-mile round trip to just east of downtown Los Angeles to get to and from it.  (I say sometimes because the rest of the time I get to work at home, as I have "compatible software.")

That one gripe has gotten smaller and smaller as I make the commute, too, so I'm about done complaining about it at all.  I made a huge adjustment that's made all the difference:  I avoid almost all of Interstate 10 and take surface streets.  I've found that even a barrage of yellow and red traffic signals is preferable to the excruciating start-and-stop of LA's packed freeway traffic.

Being on the surface streets, and being an attentive person, I've notice things previously unknown:  A very cool brick building at Washington Bd. and Vineyard St.; a "French" bakery on Washington Bd just east of Crenshaw St.; and a big portrait of Jaz Coleman from Killing Joke on a black building with the words "Fade To Black" on the corner of Washington Bd. and Main St.

I also notice things like a brake light out on that Kia ahead.  Stopping for the red next to the Kia I say through my rolled-down window, "Your left rear brake light is out."  She says, "¿Que?"

I notice 15 helicopters hovering over something a mile or so away while stopped at a red.  I see that the guy next to me is staring at the choppers too and say, "Do you know what's going on that those helicopters are interested in?"  He says, "¿Que?"

I notice what has to be a drunk driver weaving around, slowing down and stopping in the middle of the road and when I have a chance, get away from him.  At the next red, lo and behold a police car is stopped there.  I tell the officer through my rolled-down window, "There's a black Tahoe back there driving like he's drunk."  The officer says, "¿Que?"

The take away is that either I have to stop talking to people through my rolled-down window, or, y'know, learn to speak Spanish.

Tonight - Hemlock Tavern!


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!