Sunday, July 21, 2013

Festival Lights


We search the spring for carnivals
and find St. Charles in Toluca Lake,
so we go, as if we could drive by
all those neon rides making geometry
in the sky. Dirt on our feet, a shattered
rainbow of raffle tickets confetti
the ground, and kiddie cars turn you
in tight circles twice, punctuating
your dusk with delight. It could be
thirty years ago: Teens in crop tops,
goldfish in plastic bags, ribbed beer cups
in the hands of red-faced men
who clearly need a drink. A hotel band
does its best with oldies as grannies
toe tap to All Shook Up. Missing
are hot zeppoles in greasy bags
and the Virgin Mary pinned with dollars.
Otherwise I could be eight again:
tight braid, mosquito bites like quarters,
the flying swings spinning my heart out
on a chain as fireworks become
exclamation points sparking
the sky with chromatic rain.





Thursday, July 4, 2013

The Art of Merging

People are afraid to merge on freeways in Los Angeles. This is the first thing I hear when I come back to the city. Blair picks me up from LAX and mutters this under her breath as she drives up the onramp. She says, "People are afraid to merge on freeways in Los Angeles." -- Brett Easton Ellis, Less Than Zero


If you have seen the Saturday Night Live skit featuring the "Californians," but you have no knowledge whatsoever about Southern California, the skit's constant reference to routes taken must seem like an obscure reference. However, it's a somewhat true representation; our conversations here are peppered with anecdotes about roads and traffic. Los Angeles has to be responsible for the term "urban sprawl," and to get anywhere in a timely fashion (Or if the freeways aren't working, in a mind-melting, fuck-it-all, murder-something-with-your-bare-hands kind of fashion), one must brave the often terrifying ribbons of chaos and despair that qualify as our arterials.

What makes them so terrifying? On any given day, depending on the freeway, a reasonably responsible, defensive driver must contend with wobbly semi trucks, dingbats staring at their cell-phones, careless weavers, nervous breakers, aggressive drivers, motorcyclists with death-wishes, drivers unfamiliar with their indicators, and so on, all moving at seventy-ish on a rather densely packed span of macadam. What makes them so mind-melting? Because inevitably somebody does something stupid enough to cause an accident, and the whole thing grinds to a bang-my-head-against-the-steering-wheel halt.

Frankly, I'm less terrified of "the big one" ripping the fault lines asunder than I am of the following vehicle types: oversized white pick-up truck, souped-up little BMW in dark blue, silver or gold Lexus SUV, and Volvo station wagon (to a lesser extent). I believe it's only a matter of time before a driver of one of these vehicles hits me. I will offer no character assessment of the drivers of these vehicles (It would be a logical fallacy to assume that all drivers of the aforementioned vehicles are a menace). However, I do become more skittish when passing or being passed by any of the above.

I can't claim to be the best driver in the world, although I can claim to have avoided a classifiable car accident in my entire history of driving. Furthermore, given the highly vigilant nature of defensive driving required for the Los Angeles freeways, I have become an even better driver than I was because I'm basically trying to save my life (and my son's) every time I set wheels on the 5, 10, 110, 101, or 405. (You can tell I'm a recent transplant: If I were a long-time resident, I'd call them the Golden State, The Santa Monica, The Harbor, The Hollywood, and The San Diego.)

But let me get to the point of this posting: If you're going to frequent freeways, highways, or whatever you want to call them in your neck o' the woods, you have to know how to merge onto them. I refer to it as an art because if it were a simple skill akin to, say, staying in one's lane (also, possibly, an art?), then more people would be able to do it. I am convinced, though, that about twenty-five percent of drivers don't know how to merge into traffic, thus I feel compelled to offer this somewhat long-winded public service announcement...

Sometimes there are people driving in the furthest-most right lane, the one you would be merging into. This is a fact of driving we must accept. Maybe it's because they're getting off the freeway in a stop or two, or maybe it's because they like to putter along at a slightly slower pace than the more left-oriented lanes. Whatever the reason, they have the right-of-way. As the merger, it is your responsibility to merge in as seamless a way as possible onto the freeway. You must assess the length of the on-ramp, you must judge the length of the merge lane, you must roughly calculate the speed of drivers in that right lane, and then you must take that all into account and adjust your speed accordingly so that you can glide into an opening. In other words, you must either speed up or slow down while using your driver side mirror to determine where you can slip your car in. It's a matter of finesse, folks.

This is how to merge onto a freeway. Don't play chicken with the drivers already on the freeway. Don't rely on the hail-mary merge: It's dangerous, and you're expecting the driver in that right lane to accommodate your reckless driving. Don't tail gate in the right lane: You're creating a situation that make merging impossible for those entering the freeway. If you have a very short on-ramp and no merge lane, then you'll have to stop at the top of the ramp and punch that gas when you see an opening (One reason to have a car with more than four cylinders). The same rules apply when negotiating a traffic circle, rotary, or whatever you would like to call it. The cars already in the circle have the right-of-way. If you must merge into it, you must wait for your opening.

So there you have it. And if merging onto freeways is just too terrifying, you could always take surface streets. After all, here in Los Angeles, you can always take Wilshire, Venice, or Santa Monica across town, and if you have to go north/south, there's always La Cienega or Sepulveda. Make sure to pack a lunch and plenty of drinking water.