Out of Control

It's a beautiful, cloudless day and the sun is so bright overhead you have to squint to see and crossing the streets and even walking the sidewalks I'm surveying the road for any rogue buses, cars, or motorcycles, out of control station wagons, brake-deficient Hondas, any swerving, screeching mass, really, over 500 pounds. I'm ready for action, ready to jump, duck, dodge, or stand my ground (if the situation proves hopeless) because yesterday I watched the footage on the 11 o'clock news of the MTA bus commandeered by some psycho, the bus hurtling through the downtown L.A. streets like it had a bomb onboard, weaving, going fast, faster on the straightaways, ignoring street lights and the traffic laws, until it SMASHED into the side of a minivan, then SMASHED into a brown UPS truck, then SMASHED into half a dozen cars parked in a parking lot, all in a billow of smoke. And Oh My God, that didn't happen "over there", that happened right here.

Then there's the bird's eye view from the news helicopter camera, which makes all the vehicles look tiny, little boxes of metal, mechanical machines in some Matchbox Derby. Until you realize there are people in those crushed vehicles. And the horror is stronger than any movie could ever conjure, not just because it's real, but because your imagination fills in the void within those metal boxes.