City Heartbeat

Today was one of "those" Mondays that one hour feels like a minute and before you know it, the clock reads 5pm and you realize it is time to go. As I pulled out of the hospital's parking lot, I was cut off by a sports car (probably a doctor in a mad dash to a vodka tonic or his tee time) and decided I needed time to decompress before walking through my own front door. In these cases, I put the windows down, turn the radio off, and take the streets all the way home, avoiding the chrome tumor of cars on 805 South. This are the things I see in my city along the El Cajon Bl corridor in a matter of 30 city blocks...

As I am waiting for the green at the 1st stop light I hear the conversation of pedestrians, also waiting to cross, discussing the latest Facebook wallposts. Much to my chagrin, the two are co-workers of mine in full gossip mode and I am relieved I cannot hear the exact details. Another reminder to NEVER befriend a coworker on social media. EVER.

Three blocks further I hear the squeeky wheels of a homeless man's shopping cart, pushing all his worldly posessions in what appears to be a hard-pressed search for a safe place to rest his head. What I find disheartening is the cell-phone yaking, yoga-pants wearing lady who brushes pass this resident of the street, her Whole Foods paper shopping bag full of organic fruit and tofu, Yorkshire-Terrier in tow, totally oblivious to the lives of the roof-challenged in her very own neighborhood. Her mate is probably the bohemeth sized man leaving the gym across the street who appears to have downed one too many protein shakes. I get another sad reminder of how self-absorbed people can be.

A few miles farther and I am approaching the Ethiopian section of the city. I can smell incense wafting from Reggae World music store and Bob Marley reminding me that Everything is Gonna be Alright. Suddenly, a new scent: curried deliciousness from the Land of Africa restaurant which reminds me of the less-than-appealing "Turkey Divan" I ate from our cafeteria today which should have been called "Turkey Dive-Bomb" because thats what it did to my stomach.

Next stop light I see a few pigeons drinking water from a pothole in the street. This must be survival of the fittest, animal kinddom style. The light changed, cars begin to move, and these tough birds don't even bother to fly away. This is clearly their territory, cars be damned.  I see the local barbers standing outside their shop which advertises "old fashioned shaves $8.00." They are catching a smoke break between buzzcuts and wonder if their establishment has the token long-time regular who has come to the shop for decades talking about the good ol' days when he actually had hair on his dome.

Ten blocks further I cross into the poorer section of the city. This a stew composed of graffetti, trash, impromptu auto graveyards and no lack of liquor stores. At the corner of University Ave. and Wabash St. sits Happy Daze Liquor (I couldn't have made that name up in my wildest imagination) with the classic portrait of a hard-core-drinker outside, leaning agianst the dilapadated building. I don't know if he is holding the building up, or vice versa, but it doesn't look too promising either way. He looks as though he has been sipping the wares since dawn. His eyes are tired, his skin sallow, and his spirit broken. This is a man who appears to have seen his fair share of life's wear and tear and has all but given up.

Pushing 35 mph, I cross over into the College Area where stores are bustling, there are plently of fast food eateries, coffee houses and a sign flipper on every corner, trying to entice drivers to stop in for the lastest in Philly Cheese Steaks, Lube and Oil Changes, or "Cold beer-Hot women." These advertisers must be paid by the new customer count for all the energy they put into spinning, dancing and waving at drivers. Dare I say, I have seen a few cute spinners in my day, unfortunately, TODAY was not one of them.

I approach my own neck of the woods and turn my radio on to a jazz station. Norah Jones serenades me with her voice and I feel like she is speaking just to me. Out of all the places I could be in this world, right here, at this moment, I am where I am supposed to be. Her lyrics? "Come with me and we can take the long way home." It has to be God's work that I hear this song, at this time, on this day.