Yesterday, President Obama came to my stomping ground in West Los Angeles. As usual, when anything out of the ordinary happens in Los Angeles, traffic became a nightmare.
As I got ready to leave the sunshine jen office, I frantically googled. Had he landed? Where exactly did he have to go? What streets were closed? How would I get to my gym? Where? What? How? Where? What? How?
Google was useless although there was speculation that he would be flown in a helicopter from LAX to somewhere inconvenient.
My feelings about visits from the current president are different than my feelings about visits from the former president. When the former president visited and snarled up traffic, I felt oppressed. When the current president visits, I feel traffically challenged.
I got into my car. As I listened to npr (yes, I’m just that elite), I started driving my usual route to my gym.
Please oh please oh please let the roads be open, traffic gods! I prayed as I drove.
I was doing fine until halfway to the gym I spotted the helicopters. Lots of helicopters.
This is the end. Jim Morrison sang in my head as my driving heart sank. I mentally prepared myself to sit in traffic. I decided it would okay if I was too late to watch Oprah on the treadmill.
But the road was clear.
There were no roadblocks. There were no detours. I was also able to execute a very fast left turn because there were no cars coming in the opposite direction.
I glided into the gym and jumped on the treadmill. I ended up watching baseball instead of Oprah.