Monday, June 2, 2008

San Diego, CA

I am tearing down the 405, now the 5, now the Coast, every inch bending and breathtaking. I am burning through Santa Ana, Laguna Hills, Dana Point. What this look must like from above! A little black car hugging the edge of a coast -the camera pans out, revealing more landscape- Death Valley, the Rockies, the Great Plains, the Mississippi, the Appalachians, the Empire State Building, the Atlantic. A little black dot, hugging the edge of continent. 


Outside San Juan Capistrano, the trip odometer hits 10,000 miles. I am running on three hours of couchsleep (on eight weeks of couchsleep), but no matter, I have the energy to power a city. I am negotiating curves, I am drumming at the steering wheel, I am doing the most incredible Bob Dylan impression: How does it feel!? Oh how does it feel!?? To be without a home!?? 


It is Saturday in San Diago (discovered by the Germans, 1904). There are beach BBQs in progress, catamarans at sea, Del Mar dads on longboards. A setting sun is glimmering on the water, too bright to look at, too pretty not to. All around, people are playing. And above, not a cloud.


I haven't given my friends the details of my arrival, figured I'd just waltz into my old apartment and surprise some folks. I go. Tattered hat, long hair, western shirt... I'm looking rather vagabond as I reach for the door. What will I say? 


Locked. 


I don't have a key. Doorbell, nothing.  Fortunately, I know how to break in the place, so I do. Anybody home? Nope. I've made it though, I'm back at the starting point, where the idea was hatched and set into motion. I am back, and I am spent. I fall into pillow face first, and drift into a long and fitful sleep. 


Sunday, backyard party with friends. We're eating tacos and mixing margaritas, playing whiffle ball and flipcup, chit-chatting and catching up. It feels good to connect.  For a while there --through Colorado, Utah, Nevada, California-- I felt pretty isolated. Real conversations, especially with trusted and esteemed friends who know what to say, what to ask... that's something I don't want to be without again. That and Mexican food. 


Ah, San Diego, it's good to be back. It seems people here move a little slower, smile a little more, even bob their heads a little, as though Inaudible Melodies was playing from a huge speaker atop Mt. Soledad. Laid-back and temperate, playful and innocent. If San Diego were a person, he'd have sunscreen on his nose, saying hey, forget about the heavy stuff for a while and grab a bucket, we're gonna build a castle.


Wrap-up coming. Stay tuned.


No comments: