I got up and out of the house about 7 a.m. for a noon kickoff in Pasadena for the Oregon/UCLA game.
My drive time to LA can vary from 2.5 to 7-plus hours depending on whether the traffic monster is slumbering. Saturday mornings are about the only time the drive is bereft of having to stare idling at the single working brake light of a Honda Del Sol with Iggy Azelea shaking the door locks and a cross fit sticker across the bubbled back window through Oxnard. This day, most of greater Los Angeles’ 7.2 million cars were hungover from the week’s commute.
There were no slow-downs through Santa Barbara and I was making such good progress I couldn’t resist stopping at the adobe McDonalds right off the freeway in Carpenteria. I may eventually tell my children this McDonalds was an original California Mission and since the Catholic Church ran…
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