The term “interchange” is the short version of the confluence of Interstate 5, Interstate 405 and Highway 525. Like great rivers meeting the tide of commuters, the crossing is dangerous.
More and more it seems I find cars and trucks discarded on the side of the road, some without apparent distress, some clearly smashed beyond use.
And the most disturbing thing is often there are no emergency vehicles around. The car is just there, dark – as if the driver was snatched by aliens and the car allowed to crash on its own, like so many aircraft and ships in the Bermuda Triangle.
Imagine coming around the bend and finding tractor trailer trucks and other vehicles scattered about facing all directions as if they were toys left behind by some young boy. Where are the police? What does the driver encountering this do?
Call 911. Right, and obvious choice. But what if there was no 911? What if some other priority has diminished the budget for first responders, or the frequency of 911 calls just overwhelms the system.
What if the cause is not something so depressing as a budget crunch. What if it is something from above or below? Suddenly a voice overrides the car stereo.
There is nothing wrong with your car. Do not attempt to adjust your radio dial. We control the transmission. We can bring the scene before your windshield into a soft blur or a sharp focus. We control your horizontal progress. For the next hour of your commute, sit quietly and prepare for a great adventure. You are about to experience the awe and mystery which reaches from the inner mind to- The Outer Limits.