{"id":751,"date":"2012-01-31T21:13:42","date_gmt":"2012-02-01T05:13:42","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/nothingtoreadhere.com\/?p=751"},"modified":"2012-01-31T21:13:42","modified_gmt":"2012-02-01T05:13:42","slug":"topanga-canyon-communist-russia","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/n2rh.com\/?p=751","title":{"rendered":"Topanga Canyon = Communist Russia"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>I’ll say this up front: I think of a lot of strange things, and not all of them work.\u00a0 This might be one of those times, but that’s never stopped me before.<\/p>\n

Last week, I was taking the long and winding road (cue music) to work named Topanga Canyon.\u00a0 For those of you unfamiliar with this road, it’s about 10.5 miles of one-lane twists and turns that take you up and down a mountain in order to avoid the 405.\u00a0 On this particular trip, the events that unfolded left me likening them to the machinations of a totalitarian state.\u00a0 I don’t know if Communist Russia is actually the best example, but since I just read a three-book series set in that environment, it’s the one that first came to mind.\u00a0 (Incidentally, those books also made me dream about denouncing my family as Western spies, but that’s neither here nor there.)<\/p>\n

I was driving along at a decent speed, a happy worker bee in the system.\u00a0 Before long, I saw the cars up ahead were moving a little more slowly.\u00a0 The reason was clear: a pickup truck wasn’t going as fast as others would like.\u00a0 The pickup truck was our leader, though we had no say in the matter and never collectively chose him to be our #1.\u00a0 Because of his position of power, he set the pace for the rest of the cars, and there were now five of us behind him (with me in the #4 spot).\u00a0 After just a minute or so in this situation, it was clear that the proletariat – oops, I mean the cars behind him – were getting unhappy.\u00a0 The car directly behind the truck got a little closer to it, expressing his displeasure and encouraging the truck to use one of the turnouts.\u00a0 The rest of us followed suit, each inching closer to the car in front of us to send the clear signal to the truck that we were in solidarity.\u00a0 The truck wasn’t having any of it.\u00a0 Though likely fully aware of the unrest in the masses, he stuck to his guns and refused to cede control of the road.\u00a0 Meanwhile, the rest of us were bonding and growing more hostile by the minute.\u00a0 A turnout would go by unused, and we’d all throw up a hand as if to say, “Come on, man!”\u00a0\u00a0 Minutes went by, and our collective frustration grew.\u00a0 We felt oppressed by the absolute nature of his rule, but we were no longer going to resign ourselves to the tyranny.\u00a0 After another couple of turns, some polite-ish honks and “move over” gestures started (none by me, but I appreciated my comrades – er, fellow commuters – taking further action).\u00a0 Still nothing happened.\u00a0 The truck ruled with an iron… whatever the car equivalent to a fist is.\u00a0 The message was clear: “I’m in charge.\u00a0 This is how slowly I want to drive.\u00a0 You can’t do shit about it.\u00a0 So suck it.”\u00a0 Just like Stalin, am I right?<\/p>\n

Another minute later, and the truck’s left turn signal went on.\u00a0 Not the right one, which would’ve indicated the use of a turnout, but the left, meaning he was turning.\u00a0 This was no abdication of the throne, and he stuck to the pillars of his regime until the very end.\u00a0 He then made his turn, and you could practically hear the cars rejoicing.\u00a0 What a coup!\u00a0 The will of the people had prevailed!\u00a0 The euphoria was palpable as our collective speed shot up another 10mph or so.<\/p>\n

As the new #1 moved along, something changed.\u00a0 You see, at first we only had the pickup truck as a point of comparison.\u00a0 In that regard, the new #1 was doing a great job.\u00a0 Slowly though, that car (a silver Mercedes) became judged on his own merit rather than just being celebrated for his “anyone but that pickup truck” status.\u00a0 He now had to deal with being the leader and the pressures that come along with that position of power.\u00a0 Only a minute or two into his reign, the car behind him moved in closer.\u00a0 New #2 (a tan sedan) had a taste of revolution, and he wasn’t prepared to give that up yet.\u00a0 He had ambition, and #1 was his only obstacle on his road to glory.\u00a0 Closer and closer he got, the Lieutenant who dreamed to be the General.\u00a0 I could sense #1’s fear by the way he drove: he sped up on the straight-aways to try to prove his worthiness, but he wasn’t comfortable taking the turns fast enough to keep the overzealous sedan off his ass.\u00a0 He wasn’t cut from the same cloth as the pickup truck.\u00a0 Instead, his rule was anything but absolute, always keeping a careful eye on the underlings he once led and wondering when he’d have to use the white flag equivalent of the turn signal.<\/p>\n

But not today, my friends.\u00a0 Though I felt like the driver’s hand was probably already moving toward the signal lever, the traffic gods intervened.\u00a0 We were literally reaching the end of the road, and there would be no more revolting on this day.\u00a0 We made it to Pacific Coast Highway, and everyone went on their respective ways to their respective destinations.\u00a0 Whether it was to work, home, or to run an errand, it didn’t matter.\u00a0 What mattered was that after 10.5 miles comprised of tyrannical oppression, the unification and rise of the masses, a bloodless revolution, the dawn of a new era, an internal threat from an old ally, and a thwarted coup d’etat, we were all free.\u00a0 The ocean had never looked so beautiful.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I’ll say this up front: I think of a lot of strange things, and not all of them work.\u00a0 This might be one of those times, but that’s never stopped me before. Last week, I was taking the long and winding road (cue music) to work named Topanga Canyon.\u00a0 For those of you unfamiliar with […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_s2mail":"yes","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[227,226],"class_list":["post-751","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-coup","tag-topanga"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/n2rh.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/751","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/n2rh.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/n2rh.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/n2rh.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/n2rh.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=751"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/n2rh.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/751\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":754,"href":"https:\/\/n2rh.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/751\/revisions\/754"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/n2rh.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=751"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/n2rh.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=751"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/n2rh.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=751"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}