I wanted to jump too
Well this is totally incorrect. Although in my sick and tainted mind I find it ironic. I was stuck in the worst traffic ever in my entire life. It took me an hour and a half to go a few miles.
I left the house so Elliott and his friends could do their guy thing in peace. He has a few friends in town for a boys weekend. They are going to go watch football, eat meat, drink beer and punch each other in the arms. Before going to a Cal game today 2 of them stayed at our house last night. One of them who has 2 kids was already up, showered, and back with a cup of coffee when I rolled out of bed at 7:30. Anyway I decided to bail and headed to Zocalo for a girl day, singular – just me. I got off the freeway to drop something off at a friends on the way and when I got back on 580 at the top of the on ramp near San Leandro I could tell it was bad news although too late to change my mind. Turns out later I watched many a cars reach the top of that on ramp and actually reverse down the on ramp, gutsy although ultimately a good move.
I decided to relax, settle in to whatever was on NPR and not get worked up about it. Although an hour or so later still on the freeway I was not happy. Eventually I decided to get off and I wiggled my way towards the exit lane. By that time I had reached the end, the freeway, all 4 lanes were indeed closed. A few cones, 2 cop cars, closed. I drove for a bit and then crossed over the freeway to see people standing on the overpass looking up the empty freeway. One man was taking pictures, I rubbernecked the best I could but couldn’t find out what was going on. I considered parking and checking out the spectacle that had held me hostage for so long although the worrier in me decided it could be someone with a gun or who knows what and no need for me to get involved.
I finally made it to Zocalo, the white mocha was more needed than I could have imagined. I enjoyed my time catching up on personal email mostly and reading the propositions for the upcoming election. I searched the internet for what had happened on 580 and found very little.
Tonight I finally found this story.
At first I wasn’t sure why they would have to close the freeway below although I suppose it did create quite a danger to the cars below. Then as I was reading it I realized that he held so many people hostage. I can only manage making them wish:
- They lived somewhere else with less traffic
- That they would have left earlier or later, or not gone out at all
- Or that they didn’t have to look at the back of a Cruise America RV for 1.5 hours
I won’t tie my title in elegantly to my morning, as its totally inappropriate, although it brings me some humor at this point given that I eventually safely got to where I needed to go and apparently so did the man on the bridge. Just another day.
