Lefty Limbo

I’m at a stoplight, just seconds from my work.

Traffic whizzes around me, steel sardine cans with desperate, recession-tinged fish at the helms. In the distance, an ambulance siren wails. My heart races, wondering from which direction it hails.

I don’t need this much commotion at 8:30 in the morning.

My windows are open, both driver and passenger side. I roll them up with the push of a lever and listen carefully as the traffic, ambulance, and ugly ambient noise of the morning are slowly drowned out by the invisible shields.

For some moments, there is a muffled din of the world around me. I should feel better with the decrease in decibels. The cars still speed down the boulevard, and the people around me still idle in wait for the green. But everyone, and everything, is hushed to nothing more than an urban mutter. Do I feel more relaxed?

No.

Life in this city is too hectic at any volume.

Hot like soup

of fire and coal bits

burning embers

I’ll ask for seconds

Head into hell

unwashed, unfazed

Freon gone

overcome

Loosen the grip

hands-free

valley sun

burning me

clocking out

I’ve noticed an unusual amount of dead honeybees lately. This is both at my home (in my driveway, especially) and at my work (I just found 7 of them this morning, all within a 10 ft. radius). At home, too, I’ve seen many bees on the ground, weak and dying, as if they’d been poisoned.

I can only assume that this is a result of Colony Collapse Disorder (CCD), which has been mysteriously wiping out bee colonies worldwide. This article sums it up pretty well.

Now, knowing that we’re screwed has hardly surprised me lately. At least 5 years ago I noticed a remarkable change in the weather patterns and felt an ever-increasing “disappearance of seasons.” Sure, this is L.A., but when I was a kid I remember a real rainy season, complete with soaked Vans slip-ons, rained-out recess periods (checkers!) and puddle powerslides on my Mongoose BMX. These days it seems like rain comes once a year, and when it does arrive, it’s a trickle, quickly vaporized by the impending sun.

Now I don’t know if the global warming trend is partly to blame for the honeybees’ demise. But seeing these dead bees gives me the feeling that the shit may hit the fan much, much sooner than we think. I saw a program on PBS not long ago that discussed how much we and the world relied on the lives of honeybees. I discovered that our lives literally depend on them. Put it this way—if they go, we go soon afterwards.

The program Silence of the Bees illustrates this bleak reality even further.

Yet another pleasant thought to whisk me through the day. Skippity-skip.