Ah, Winter in L.A.

I took my bike out yesterday on a crisp, smog-free ride that was so devoid of humans you would have thought there'd been a nuclear bomb blast. But there was the familiar buzz here and there. Leaf blowers. There must be one for every 3 Angelenos.

Finally, I began to see the only human life for miles: Hispanic gentleman laboring to maintain the suburban landscape, working largely in pairs out of beater pickups, always one with a goddamn leaf blower strapped to his unfortunate back (they are deafening and stinky). (Apparently to support the wealthy area where I ride one must attend a workplace regularly. This would be a distinct advantage of both teaching part time and remaining hopelessly poor.)

Over all that din, every time I was spotted the man holding the offending machine turned it down so I wouldn't be engulfed in a whirlwind of leaves and dust. Still, I hate the stupid things. Even with the blowers it was a delicious day to be out, and so was today.

We strolled the neighborhood with the kid's rather large, exact replica stroller and her two plastic dolls (the kid has a "diaper bag," bottles, blankets, etc. -- disturbing, yes, but it gets us outside in a non-retail environment).

Afterward she complained this was the only way she could get exercise, that her ass was getting larger, her boobs were starting to sag and she couldn't remember the last time she wore makeup or painted her nails.

Stumble It!