A trail of ruby red and diamond white
Hits her like a sunrise…
–John Mayer, “Neon”
Sometimes I think about this line while I sit in bumper to bumper traffic, especially at midnight on the 405, when they close all but one lane for construction. It really is a beautiful line in a beautiful song. You know what isn’t beautiful? TRAFFIC. I am sick to death of L.A. traffic. I’m sorry, I know I should just buck up, I know I should be thankful that I have an hour every morning to listen to podcasts by Erwin McManus, God bless his brilliant soul; and an hour every afternoon to catch up on phone calls: “Hey it’s Joy! Remember, we met at camp three years ago? I’m just sitting in traffic and wanted to talk to someone…” But you know what? Traffic still makes me a grumpy whiner. Sorry. So John Mayer, you’re wonderful and dreamy and talented and blah-di-blah; you can glamorize breakups, broken father-daughter relationships, and Newton’s laws, but I ain’t buying traffic like a sunrise.