Understanding strangers is an art form.
Dad was a people watcher. When we took walks together as a family he was always lagging behind watching someone.; not always the sexy ladies. He was very observant and was being in the moment. I imaged he was wondering about people too.
The light turned red as I started to quickly make a left turn on Oxnard. We call it ‘znard. I wonder why the guy raced in front of me through a red light. I flipped him the finger as he raced two feet in front of me. My newly inherited silver ring with black stones tapping against the car window. He was about twenty years old with unkempt hair and he had dark glasses on; loooking somewhat like Gerry Beckly. He was a zombie in a car moments away from a major car accident. I am glad I am observant and that my car was responsive to stopping.
towards highway 101
He must have been a zombie lost in thought rushing somewhere on the ordered chaos of our Californian roads. I assume he was leaving the local Jr. College and was driving towards highway 101. He was defiantly a zombie lost in thought. A stupid young driver. He was so young that responsibility to others was not part of his make up.
Youth sometimes thinks that noting terrible can happen to it.
I think he was gong to turn right on the Ventura Freeway and head towards Calabasas. He must have been late for a lunch date, job or he was planning to game with some friends. Unawares to the reality that he had a close call with fate maybe even the Grim Ripper. I know this because I have been very close to this darkness over the last few years.
I smell its breath and bow to its power.
A close call indeed. This zombie youth does not know that I am writing this today and that I am wondering about him. I did not even get the satisfaction of a reaction from him. He did not even see me giving him the finger. He was in a deep zombie state behind the wheels of his flashing by red car.
So strange stupid zombie youthful man I will avoid taking a left turn on ‘Znard ever again. I have made that turn many times over the last forty something years. I dare say you will make it past many more red lights…I mean racing through them.