California’s infrastructure is shot. People tailgate, pass you on the right as soon as you cross the state line onto the suddenly poorly surfaced highway. At the bank…is she a sex worker? And why does this yuppie jump in the double security door behind me as it closes then tries to charmingly jump ahead of me when the green light flashes?
But then on the corner in front of the school kids spontaneously stop stride to play music for the crossing guard. A cello, a guitar, a violin. I breathe. I smile. Glad I usually do my banking online, work from home when not on tour, often get to stroll my neighborhood on foot, and have the opportunity to share with crossing guards, artists, intellectuals, and hikers pretty much every day.
