Last night (well, not last night by the time you read this, but it sounds so much more immediate this way) I drove over to Karma in downtown LA to go to Magic Wednesdays, which is a trance and jungle club (and the images in the above links lie; the actual venue is now 7070 Hollywood Boulevard). When I got there I drove around the block twice surveying the massive line and decided that I was not really up to joining my fellow man.
It seems sort of pointless to drive twenty miles and then drive back home immediately, doesn't it? Yeah, that's what I thought too, but it was nearing midnight and I couldn't reach any of my favorite midnight-action locations. What to do?
I drove home and as I got into the lane for the 405 I decided on a whim to go to the beach, and swerved out to continue along the 10. There is a parking lot along the Pacific Coast Highway which snuggles right up to the sand and overlooks the wide vista of the Santa Monica Bay, so I pulled up inside and set the brake and watched the ocean for a minute. That wasn't very fulfilling.
So I put on Five Years of Eye-Q, a trance compilation, cranked it high, rolled down my window, and lay down on the hood of my car. How can I describe the subsequent forty minutes? I could load it with superlatives or make analogies to mystical spiritual experiences, but I have not the words nor have I ever experienced such a thing. I think this came close.
Surprisingly, the stars were visible, and the moon was high in the sky. Its soft light threw a glow onto the beach, the ocean, the clouds, and me. I lay back and stared at the glitter, like diamonds in coal, while behind my head my car pulsed to the tranquil sounds of trance. An occasional plane landing at LAX and meteors streaking across the sky were surrealistic brush strokes on a still life.
The constellation of Orion slowly moved across the sky while I thought about my career, my friends, a woman who I'd like to date but can't, music, the billions of other people on this planet, and most of all, why I sometimes (often) prefer to be alone. I can't explain it, but I feel it. Sometimes it bothers me, but sometimes it leads to transcendental experiences. Sometimes.
Oh, why do cats sleep on the hoods of cars? After my twenty mile drive to the beach the engine kept my back and butt warm while I dreamed waking dreams. If cats feel that way all the time, I envy them.