Pets

Not the cute cuddly kind that we put human traits on and faun over, no, pet peeves is the blog of choice today...

1. Smokers who seem to think that the street is their ashtray - you disgust me, it isn't enough that you choose to live in a perpetual state of hypoxia and chemical addiction, but you have to flip your ash and butts into the thoroughfare for the rest of us to enjoy. Grow up - stop it.

2. The electronic mind/thought/action control society we are so thrilled to be in the process of becoming. I like paying bills online - it rocks. But enough is just that - slow down. When I choose to cut ties with your web based service (yes, Paypal - this means you), I should not have to cut out my left kidney with a butterknife to be able to do so, let alone to prove that I am who I say I am.

3. Rude people - and you know who you are - you suck. I stood on the escalator that slowly carries folk from the rooftop parking at the Ralphs on La Brea (needed Woolite) and watched a very rude lady taking on some youthful manager behind the customer service desk. Such a scowl she had, such entitlement came thru the window to me via her body language. Obviously she had never been told the "you'll catch more flies with honey" adage). I felt so embarrassed for her behavior.

4. People incapable of listening (and - I venture - you also know who you are...). Try closing your mouth long enough to actually hear what is being said to you, the person speaking might have some valid points - by speaking over them, or by making some silly "mia culpa" statement (JF!) you only succeed in pissing me off, and making me feel even less valued than I already do.

Some days I just want to go work in some great kids bookstore like Storyopolis on Robertson. Escape the adult grown-up world of self-absorption, and just be a kid again.

Sunday I escaped to "my secret place". It's high in the barren hills behind LA. A creek trickles thru a shaded canyon. Dragonflies of azure and coral swoop with their wings a blur of activity. Hummingbirds gorge themselves of sweet nectars from the wildflowers that line the waters edge. A trout lazily wobbles along in the shadows, lurking for an unsuspecting fly or waterwalker. It was blissful. I saw tadpoles, lizards, and listened to a myriad of birdsong. The sun was hot and I still feel it's gentle kiss on my back and the place on my neck where my necklace sits when I am driving.

Los Angeles takes a heavy toll on a boy like me. A boy who feels the land calling to him in his sleep during twilight. A boy who revels in the grass beneath his bare feet, a boy who knows the joy to be had from the eye-to-eye watching of an insect or a tiny reptilian. A boy who longs for the rain on his face, longs for the winds sweet caress in the late evening, who longs for the silence of solitudes and isolation from the city and all that she is.