So this time I drove, it felt odd not parking in an airport. After logging in just under fifty flights over the last five years one goes into an automatic passenger mode. If I even get near an airport the mind starts churning and mixing like a 1980’s ice cream maker. Airports have a way of conditioning you; the public becomes cattle caught in a twisted Rube Goldberg machine of security check points and over priced croissants. It’s fantastic.
But not today, I am driving to my destination; heading south riding the caustic artery of LA’s 405. Its 4:18am and the sun hasn’t dared to look over the horizon, yet. The road comes fast at this time of day, rolling with the school of big rigs that surround me. I felt like a fly on the back of a wild buffalo caught in a running herd rumbling through the lands. This is the only way to travel.
About halfway to my destination, my throat was dry from the black coffee and my stomach finally woke up. I am sure the stomach was wondering what the hell was going on and why we were up so damn early. I consider myself a morning person but really I think the only reason why one is so energized in the early hours is because they actually are going through shock that in fact they are awake. That is a subject I will get into later but not now. I have to eat. Pulled over, grabbed a bite and made my way south to San Diego.
The traffic coagulated a bit just north of the city but it was quite manageable. The sun started to make the slow climb into the morning sky. Driving through downtown this early is a bit eerie. Quiet, only a handful of people on the streets almost no traffic and most of the street lights hung on solid green. It felt like the entire city was a movie backdrop. Have I entered Façade Diego? Hotel parking was easy but at $26 a day it damn well better be easy. Checked in; they put me at the top floor. It’s a nice view, one of the few times my view didn’t consist of a parking structure or a rusted roof top peppered with air conditioners. Unpacked and took a few minutes to gaze out the window. Small boats dotted the bay while huge military ships were docked nearby. It’s good to be American.
Until Next Time.