Wednesday, August 14, 2019

This One Time...

Over the many years I've been schlepping back and forth on Burbank, my go-to Valley shortcut between Sepulveda and Reseda Boulevards (as long as it's not too traffic-jammed, flooded or seismically-challenged) I've seen some things: Half-Naked Joggers. Buff Bike-Riders. Righteous Skateboarders. Jesus Impersonators. Cash-Seekers. Saxophonists Who Play Real Good For Free (But Welcome A Hand-Out). Film Crews. Turn-Signal Neglecters. Radical Lane Changers. Speed Limit Violators. Handcuffed Criminals Face Down In The Street. You know, the usual L.A. stuff, worthy of a quick glance.

Sir Blakey Doppelganger

But yesterday, as I approached the scenic part bordering the Sepulveda Basin, I did a double take. I saw an image up ahead that boggled my brain. I figured it had to be a hallucination. There was no way I was seeing what I thought I was seeing. But as I got closer, I realized the vision was the real deal. I had seen a horse. Make that two horses. And, thank God, two horseback riders, a dude and dudette, just moseying down Burbank Boulevard like it was perfectly normal. So many thoughts rapidly raced through the SJG keppy. Though I haven't planted my tush on a horse in decades, I rode my fair share throughout my childhood. This one time, at barn camp, a horse ran away with me. We were on the pavement, not a trail, the horse got spooked and I hung on for dear life. So naturally, there were many super judgy things I wanted to call out the window: "Are you people eff'n nuts?" "Uh, hello, do you see an equestrian trail?" "This isn't Griffith Park!" "You're endangering those horses!" Sadly, I said bupkis. I was too stunned to speak. But next time I get saddled with a similar situation, I'll stay seated on my high horse and give 'em a piece o' my mind. Or at least what's left of it.

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