It’s funny when you refer to six hours in a car as an “easy drive” but that’s exactly the way we felt about the last leg of the journey. Phoenix to Los Angeles. We got lucky with the last of the CDs we had purchased (the first 8 suh-hucked!). Thank God for Annie Lennox.
As I listened to her, I kept trying to imagine her competing on American Idol. How would an artist like that fare in this “talent” competition? But I digress.
I failed to mention our previous day’s lunch somewhere near the New Mexico/Arizona border. With only fast food joints to choose from, we picked a Wendy’s just off the highway. Uneventful meal. Odd assemblage of people. Looked like David Lynch had gotten into the hamburger business. Couldn’t help wondering if they were local or itinerant. Hmmm.
As we got ready to leave, a young cro magnon type held the door open for us. I thanked him as we walked past, as did Gardog. The young man’s response? “Whatever.”
WTF? Did we put you out? Were you struggling with your inner mommy demons, doing the right/polite thing, but holding a grudge about it? Or was that the equivalent of the Aussie, “no worries?”
Either way, we got a giggle out of it.
Los Angeles greeted us with a traffic jam. Such an appropriate welcome, don’t you think?
But great friends and great food awaited. And in the crisp blue of Southern California sunshine, all things seemed possible.
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