It’s another productive day at work.  Polishing it off with a great catch-up dinner at a yummy LA eatery.  Then it’s back on the road, using my new Waze app to find the quickest route home.  Everything is going fine for a while until I realize that I haven’t moved but three blocks in ten minutes.  I immediately blame it on the app (Thanks Waze.  I thought we were working well together.  I thought we were friends.) and plan to tell Luke that he’s right, it’s a useless invention.  

I finally get on the freeway and traffic is in its glory (yeah…better than the side streets).  I hear sirens behind, a firetruck approaching my right side on the shoulder.  I inch the Mini Coop over to the left and think this can’t be good.  I actually say, “Oh no” to myself.  The firetruck stops about ten car lengths in front of me.  (Maybe this means Waze wasn’t wrong after all since the accident happened just moments ago).  We all start to move little by little and my eyes are anxious to see what stupid LA driver did this time.  As I approach the scene, I see two cars on the shoulder in perfect condition, two firetrucks and then I see what happened.  

A motorcycle lying on its left side and its driver lying on his back.  Very still.  His helmet is off, his eyes to the sky and arms gently open above his head like he was riding a roller coaster.  A man is shining a flashlight back and forth over the driver’s eyes, which remain locked to the sky.  He looks exactly like someone I know.  Exactly. I realize it’s not him…but it looks like him.

There is no blood.  Just stillness.  

I immediately put my hand to my chest and ask, “Please be with him.”  Chills run all over my body.  Once again, vulnerability as a human struck its chord. 

He is so young.  I am so young.  I get wrapped up in such trivial scenarios that when these brief moments of hitting home occur, I soak it up.  I breathe it, I feel it and it changes me.

The actual viewing of the accident happens within 3-5 seconds, but the build up to it is what really takes it outta the park.  The build up supports the strength of the reaction.  This long, annoying traffic-filled journey results in me seeing a kid on the asphalt of the highway.  This certainly overrules my prior annoyance with typical LA traffic and makes me appreciate my existence.  

I often wonder if more people looked at life’s big picture, how would they act?  What would change?  Would materials have less value?  It should.  Would people be kinder? They should.  We come into this world with nothing and leave the same.  I heard that in a song by the rapper Atmosphere and that line pretty much sums it up.    

b.e.d.