Life is full of mundane enigmas. In this age of trigger-happy web surfing, answers that cannot be readily furnished by google, or wikipedia, are particularly stymying.

Like:

1. Why does there seem to be a sudden and dramatic increase in tagging here in town? What is up? Teenage trend, upswing in gang rivalries, secret sigils portending the coming apocalypse? (Or is it just me?)

2. Why is it that, when driving on the freeway (at least in LA), a turn signal almost always results in other drivers courteously, if somewhat reluctantly, letting you into their lane? Merging across three lanes of gridlock to avoid getting on the 405 from the Bundy on-ramp to the 10 East would seem to necessitate it. But that same turn signal, if you're stuck behind an immobile vehicle on a surface street -- say a tow-truck in front of Restaurant Row on 3rd between La Cienega and Fairfax -- is futile. Cars behind you zoom past and even aggressively swerve to cut you off, horns blazing, as you try to get out of your predicament.

3. That guy on DIY who Liz watches. The gardening guru. His name is Joe Lamp'l. What kind of name is Lamp'l? What the Hell is an apostrophe doing between a p and an l?! It reminds me of cheap, pulp sci-fi/fantasy, in which unimaginative authors try to make their settings seem exotic through the random and unmitigated sprinkling of apostrophes. C'Baak K'Doogo of the hordes of the Ta'Kla H'Drath swept into battle with Prince Floshak Lamp'l Sh'Blahblah.

I want answers. I will provide libations.

-jw

I hiked up to the top of Runyon Canyon last week, after a few drops of rain and a lot of wind. . .







-jw

Labels: runyon canyon