Best to get around by Campus Bike if I have errands; most I can do on my lunch hour as everything is within a half mile of my office.
The Desert Sanitarium, a sprawling medical complex, creates a good deal of street congestion. One of the main intersections by the San is undergoing major renovation the next few months. Travel by auto is even more at a stand-still—in all directions.
I always try to take the quiet back streets to get away from the medical offices and strip malls right there on the main drag. Everybody’s rushing in and out—on their cell phone—speeding and not stopping at the lights or stop signs—mainly Desert San nursing staff that got to buy their Mtn Dew and cigarettes.
The Desert Sanitarium, a sprawling medical complex, creates a good deal of street congestion. One of the main intersections by the San is undergoing major renovation the next few months. Travel by auto is even more at a stand-still—in all directions.
I always try to take the quiet back streets to get away from the medical offices and strip malls right there on the main drag. Everybody’s rushing in and out—on their cell phone—speeding and not stopping at the lights or stop signs—mainly Desert San nursing staff that got to buy their Mtn Dew and cigarettes.
The San was in the open desert in the 1920’s. That’s pretty much gone. But there’s an ancient mobile home park nestled right in this neighborhood that dates back about 50 years. It’s over-grown in a jungle of vines and cactus and palm trees, kind of like those Aztec and Mayan ruins you see about on TV.
I wonder if there’s men still living there that fought in the wars—hit the beaches at Normandy (like my Great Uncle Clyde Crosslin) or flew over Europe on bombing raids, or flew over Hanoi during the Viet Nam War—or still remember seeing their first airplane in France 1917 like my Grandfather did (he was in the Navy in WW I)
Time, waiting it out—Death—light-speed lives in bumper-to-bumper traffic—and then this trailer park being devoured by green old trees. There seems to be ones to replace the ones that are dying—just a little bit of water and they keep growing. The Mountains in the background have it made—until we figure out how to take them all down.
Bryan seemed distracted and he cut my hair really short—shorter than I like.
3 comments:
tsk, tsk. Where's the helmet?
I like the short hair, very metro.
Hey Doo! Helmet is on-board--just can't believe it when barber told me, "I didn't cut it as short as last time..." Sans helmet allowed for shavings to be blown from the territory of scalp and ears while I ride.
Mr. Anonymous, to you I say, hair on me legs and arse is longer that what be on me head! So, Metro I am not!
Cheers!
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