Bridges

Ojai is a nice place. It’s more or less the “countryside” of the county. Whenever I see green hills, anywhere, I always think of Ireland. There’s not much green around here at all. I’ve never really been anywhere, so if I see something that’s even slightly reminiscent of a picture or movie I saw of another country, I imagine that that’s what it must look like. For example, coming from Ventura into Oxnard, you drive over a bridge and begin to traverse down a slow-curving road. From the bridge afore mentioned, a green hilltop (just above a golf-course, but not actually part of it) is visible. As you pass, you see a neighborhood and golf-course, and a lot of other junk. But in that brief moment when you begin the curve, and you see the distant gleam of green and yellow, it is easy (for me, anyway) to pretend that Oxnard has melted away entirely.

There is also a bridge, just by Los Angeles, that looks rather London-esque. It’s the bridge that the desolate mother in “The Kid” cries on, towards the beginning of the movie. I've tried to find an excuse to drive across that bridge, but I'm never sure how to get on it, and when we pass it we're usually in a time-crunch anyway.

In Santa Barbara, there is a cluster of white-washed buildings along the coast that looks – to one who has never been there – just like what a small Greek community might look like. Those pictures of the Greek Islands are so beautiful they're hardly real. I can't imagine living in a place like that – where you never know if you're looking at a real scene, or a picture of one. It's sad what technology has done to me and my generation. The feeling strikes when I'm feeling sentimental at night, and I look out my window and try to wish on a star – only to find out that it's an airplane.

Someday, I'll go to these places. That was decided long ago. Until then, however, I'll try to keep technology at bay so that I can see Ireland when I drive to Oxnard.