California Dreaming

It's either excellence or efficiency. Or at least the striving to be one of the two. That whole cliche ven diagram of cheap-good-fast thing usually holds true. Of course "good" is a pretty malleable idea. And fast definitely has its perspective issues. And frankly, what's inexpensive to me, is certainly not inexpensive to someone else. Does this all bear repeating? No? So yeah, what were we talking about? California! C Street! Rusty Ritenour used to wait for me in the parking lot at New Dorm while I snoozed long past the alarm in my cozy hole in Clark Q. I could hit that snooze button all I liked as Geoff, my deaf roommate, needed his specially timed lamp to get him outta bed. I'd role over eventually, hustle out to that well-warmed red pickup, Rusty would give me a bad look and we'd head down to C Street. I don't know why always C Street. Past Biltmore, Hammonds, Miramar, Sharkies, whatever was happening in Summerland and Carp, past Rincon and Little Rincon and Mondos and the overpass-I-always-forget-the-name-of. But there we'd be. Cold, early in the morning. God I love C Street.