When: Pre-dawn January 2008
Where: Sierra Madre Villa Station
Weather: Cold, wet
There I was, in the dark, waiting for the bus, when I pulled out my air-ukelele. Made everything much better.
After the Starbucks fiasco, my main concern was the primary election. Partly this was because of Obama’s upset in Iowa, partly because I treated elections like sport, partly because of my newfound interest in a show called The Young Turks, and mostly because Bosco is for gambling. My daily schedule was as followed:
Wake up at 4:30 AM, walk to the train, take the train to the bus, the bus to school, spend an hour in the library reading the Wall Street Journal and chatting with Jim Thompson, our school’s resident drunk (he kept a jug of vodka on his desk during class and it was awesome).
English class with Stremel the Republican Hipster, then free period courtesy of being a TA, during which I would either read, catch up on Lost or listen to RadioLab. Then lunch, then design with Big-Time Okeyo, and finally world religions with Jauregui, then home. A perfect blend of social time and solitude.
I was there at five in the morning, waiting for the bus, some drizzle left over that left black ice on the ground. Cenk Uygur was talking about Heath Ledger’s sudden death and posed a question: Accident or Suicide, which was more tragic?
I switched to music.
Next: The crowd is here.