On the road for a good part of yesterday -- actually, for a couple of hours longer than I should have been -- traveling from the Bay Area down to Oceanside, CA, just north of San Diego. I'm usually very lucky when I have to drive through the greater Los Angeles area, and I actually kind of enjoy it. Endless realms of civilization and human activity.
Anyway, we took 101 down south and then cut onto the 405. Right at LAX, the 405 is closed. This is about 3pm in the afternoon, and it had been closed since morning. Know why?
Some truck had a spill of some 55 gal. drums of hazardous material and of course, the ants were very busy assessing, donning stylish hazmat gear, keeping everyone clear, blocking onramps, talking on walkie-talkies and generally feeling and being important for all to see and come to no question in the matter.
It was acetone and rubbing alcohol. Yea, your sis' fingernail polish remover. Anyone got a match? I'd have dispatched the problem in under five minutes.
Jesus. I'm loathing this can't-do "American" couture more and more by the day.
On the road for a good part of yesterday -- actually, for a couple of hours longer than I should have been -- traveling from the Bay Area down to Oceanside, CA, just north of San Diego. I'm usually very lucky when I have to drive through the greater Los Angeles area, and I actually kind of enjoy it. Endless realms of civilization and human activity.
Anyway, we took 101 down south and then cut onto the 405. Right at LAX, the 405 is closed. This is about 3pm in the afternoon, and it had been closed since morning. Know why?
Some truck had a spill of some 55 gal. drums of hazardous material and of course, the ants were very busy assessing, donning stylish hazmat gear, keeping everyone clear, blocking onramps, talking on walkie-talkies and generally feeling and being important for all to see and come to no question in the matter.
It was acetone and rubbing alcohol. Yea, your sis' fingernail polish remover. Anyone got a match? I'd have dispatched the problem in under five minutes.
Jesus. I'm loathing this can't-do "American" couture more and more by the day.