Memo

To: LA Freeway System
From: Robin Blair
Re: UNCLE!

That's it! I give up! So, now please stop tormenting me. I know I had gotten cocky. I know I had reached a point in my freeway driving career where I thought I had found a way to beat the system. But now I know that I was clearly mistaken. I now realize how powerful you are and that you will always have the ability to pummel me to a pulp whenever you feel like it. You're like a cruel god in a poor theology. Actually, you're like a Greek god. You are Zeus. And yesterday I heard your roar. And felt your thunderbolt.

The day started just like any other day. I went for a long run, took a shower, and got ready for class. I put the finishing touches to my lecture powerpoints, jotted some notes to myself about copies I needed to make at the psych office before class, congratulated myself on starting carpool that day and reflected on what a good steward that made me. Things were good. I had no reason to anticipate the horror that was to come. Why? Because I have intentionally orchestrated my training placement and teaching positions to be at a location that is convenient to me (read: reverse traffic!). Oh how foolish I was to think all this scheming somehow made me immune to the travesties of living in L.A.

Shortly after my carpool partner picked me up, we were cruising down you, 210, at a respectable speed when all of a sudden traffic came to a halt. WHAT THE HECK? This never happens! In my optimistic state of mind, I had hope that things would clear up soon. After all, we had left plenty of time for us to make it to class...right? Wrong. As wrong as 80 degree weather in January. After moving approximately 3 miles in 1.5 hours, we had to cancel our classes. But I still had hope I could make it to my second class on time...right? Wrong again. Wrong like a chocolate-free dessert. After another half mile and half hour, I decided to cancel my second class, as well. We admitted defeat, made a u-turn, and headed back home, never having even made it to our destination. Well played, 210. Well played.

BUT WAIT! It gets better.

Since canceling classes opened my schedule quite a bit, I found myself more inclined to go with Ben and some friends to Hotel Cafe late last night to listen to Brian Wright. This talented guy leads a hard (i.e. addicted) life, so I'm not sure how much longer he'll be alive and I thought I better catch a show while I still had the chance. He was scheduled to go on stage around 10 o'clock, so we hopped on you, 110, about 9, and again made great progress (as any one should at that time of night), when all of a sudden traffic came to a halt. Sound familiar? Deja vu never felt so disgusting. As I proceeded to sit in traffic for another 2 hours, only to turn around and head home, again never making it to my destination, I came to the only plausible conclusion. You two, dearest 210 and 110, were in cahoots against me and were determined to squelch my will to live. Congratulations. You win. To think - I even washed my hair yesterday. What a waste.

So, this is me, eating humble pie. Please go back about your business of paying me no-never-mind. I will never again doubt your ability to ruin my life.

Good day.
Robin