Tuesday, July 8, 2008

"Overlooking" I-5

Believe me, if you want to shorten a long distance, take an audio book. I had downloaded "The Overlook" by Michael Connelly from Audible.com for the drive home. It sounded like a good book and was about the right length.

I was quite worried about the drive. The night before had been terrible. I had gone to sleep around 10 p.m., while everyone was still watching Twelve Angry Men and was then wide awake at 1 a.m. It was one of those insomnia nights again. I tried everything, including spending time on the computer, crying, and practically counting sheep (come to think of it, I should have tried counting sleep). The last time I remember seeing on the clock was 5 a.m., so I was delighted when I next opened my eyes and discovered it was 7:45 (good thing I had opted not to go to Tom and Laurel's at 8!)

The time between Santa Barbara and San Luis Obispo flew by so quickly I could hardly believe it was time for lunch. I stopped at one of my favorite restaurants, The Apple Farm...

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...which has cute little boutique things (I never buy anyway), a nice bakery (I never buy anything), and a homey restaurant that I love.

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(is that a biscuit or what?)

I ended up taking a late breakfast with scrambled eggs, sausage, freshly squeezed orange juice and a huge fluffy biscuit, which came with warm homemade blackberry jam.

Of course, being me, as I sat there in this lovely place I managed to spill my glass of water.

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I am a constant embarrassment to people who dare to appear in public with me. Fortunately, there was nobody on the other side of the table.

As I sat there, the people in the next booth were arguing about how to calculate a tip. The woman had a baby in her arms and got up to leave the restaurant, while her male companion kept trying to figure out the tip. They were sitting directly in front of the wait person desk and she was saying loudly "Take 10% of the price and add half again that much. If they give really, really good service you give 20% but they gave lousy service, so only give them 15%." I couldn't believe they would be so crass and so loud. In fact, the wait staff always gives excellent service so I ended up tipping a little more to make up for the rudeness of the other people. Yeah, I'm a pushover.

Then it was on to the next stop, the Harris Ranch, for an emergency bathroom stop. It was about a zillion degrees outside and the a/c of the building was very welcome. When I got back in the car, I started it, got the iPod playing my book again and then realized that there was no response from the car. I couldn't get the key in or out and I couldn't get the motor to turn over. I wondered what I was going to do, especially since I had rolled about 1/4 of the way out of the parking space and was in danger of blocking traffic. I began to panic.

Well, duhhhh...I had turned the key on to start the iPod but had never started the motor and the reason why the key wouldn't turn was because I didn't have the car in park any more. Once I'd figured that out, Detective Harry Bosch and I were back on the road again and back looking for those terrorists and the stolen cesium before the city could be threatened.

Though there is a bit of distance between the Harris Ranch and its feet lot (acre after acre after acre after acre of cattle being fattened for the kill, all of them creating lots of methane gas to gag the motorists driving by), but it went by in an eyeblink as I listened to the book. In fact, it was only when I was hit with the stench that I realized I was passing by the feed lot.

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The dark part is all cattle, packed in tightly into the pens and all pooping as much as they can before they get slaughtered.

I finished listening to the book just about the time I turned onto the road to Sacramento and I put on "Jon Stewart Presents America," which isn't quite as tuneful or as funny as Stan Freberg's treatment of the same subject, but is funny in itself, and the audio book has the advantage of having the cast of The Daily Show to read various parts.

The dogs were thrilled to see me and celebrated by tearing up any piece of paper they could get their teeth on. They also must be in fur-to-skin contact with me at all times, to reassure themselves that I'm really here, which is not quite as much fun as it would be if it weren't 103 degrees outside. I'm very glad I have my new battery operated fan! Also, the air all the way up the state was yucky. So many fires and it seems that it's best for nobody to breathe the air in this part of the country! How long can you hold your breath?

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