To truss or not to truss, that is the question.

Drove down from the City of Angels this week and of course was stuck in traffic.
Bumper to bumper bummer.
Something I can never fathom.
If everyone is moving, why must we be stopped?
Unless of course there is an accident or something in the road.
That I can understand.
After one particularly long stretch of parking lot playground we eventually began to move and the reason for the hold up was revealed.
A chair.
A red recliner to be precise.
Side of the road.
In the pull out lane.
Footrest extended, damaged, askew.
Road rash cruelly evident.
A roadside rest stop for squirrels or other wandering walkabouts, be it man or beast.

Perched on the edge of the prolific green pickleweed like a faux leather faux pas.
Jerome's joke.
A Lazyboy lapse in tie down miscalculation.
Whenever I see any type of item along side the road, my first thought is that there is some kind of story attached.
Generally, it goes something along these lines.
"Are you telling me the recliner is not on the truck anymore??"
"Where is it???"
"What do you mean, you don't know??"
"How is that possible?"
"You DO understand that the recliner,"ties the living room together" don't you??"
"Why was it not tied down properly??"
"Why are you rambling about how short the bungee cords were??"
"In this land we have stuff called rope!!!"
"Why are you looking at the ground when I am talking to you??"
AAAAAARRRRGGGGGG!!!
You can picture this verbal beating being delivered by either gender,
Doesn't matter.
Same outcome.
In this world people fall into two categories.
The serious "tie down" people who truss up any truck load of junk like a Thanksgiving turkey.
The end result being a spider web expanse of rope so intricate that it takes hours to untie at the final destination.
"Ma'am I'm sorry the dump is now closed."
"Ma'am you took four hours to untie your load."
"Even the sea gulls have gone home!"
"Please re-tie your crap and leave!"
And then there are  the, "we-are-only-going-a-few-blocks-so-we-don't-need-to-tie-this-load-down" kind of folks.
If history holds true, these rebels are usually guys.
It's their Evil Knievel gene.
They love the risk and challenge.

I witnessed the worst possible result of this type of renegade rope wrangling one sunny afternoon near the beautiful city of Del Mar.

We gawked in horror/amusement/disbelief as a spindly young man leap-frogged his way across four screaming lanes of traffic plucking his girlfriend/wife’s frilly panties from between the glistening yellow speed bumps in the middle of the road. 

Apparently the box they were in decided to spill its guts mid-trip.

I wanted to roll down the window and scream. 

“Give it up bucko!”

“Even if you get them all back, you will never live this down anyway!”

“Just give her a $300 Victoria’s Secret gift certificate and call it a day!”

“Plus it's much cheaper and less painful than scraping your sorry carcass off the undercarriage of a Vons truck!”

“And you won’t have to eat steak from a straw for the next six months!”

But I didn’t.

It was much too entertaining to watch.

I remember when I was about 12 years old my Dad and I were helping my sister move and taking one of the final loads to her new digs.
Giant load on the back of a small pickup, topped off with a twin mattress.
My Dads instructions to me went something like this.
"Now keep an eye on the corner of that mattress and if you can't see it, tell me."
"Say what??"
I felt like that guy watching for glaciers on the Titanic.
"I just recall my mother (who was the queen of "Spider Web Tie-Down") yelling as we pulled away from the driveway.
"You should tie that mattress down better!"
You can see where this is headed.
In order of appearance.
1. Didn't see the corner of the mattress after 5 blocks
2. Tapped the Dad on the shoulder to deliver the news.
3. The Dad pulls over and sends 12 year old running across 2 lanes of traffic to drag said mattress to the curb.
(I looked like a character in a Road Runner cartoon)
4. Mattress is now covered with full body tire marks.
5. Dad never lives incident down for the rest of his life.
6. Incident goes into the "I told you so" treasure chest to be used at a later date.
Along with that unfortunate, "used Moms' new vacuum to dismantle a bee hive" fiasco.

You can't make this stuff up.
I think the best was when I was hauling a three piece sofa sectional to my mothers house and my husband sent me on my way with his "oh it's fine, you're not going far" blessing.
I decided Friars Road was a better choice than the busy freeway and was doing fine until I made a turn that sent a section of the sectional hurling through space.
Barely missing the hood of the car directly behind me.
Which of course belonged to a policeman.
Because we were right next to the Friars Road police sub station.
Perfect.
A ticket.
Just excellent.....
Of course I immediately pulled to the curb and jumped from the car screeching and railing.
"YOU CAN BET THE NEXT TIME I WILL TIE DOWN THIS CRAP MYSELF!" 

RANT, RANT,RANT, gruffle, stuffle....annoyed mutterings....
The policeman stepped from his car and apparently decided it was time for him to go home and he didn't want to deal with this female, wifely, buzzsaw, crazy person.
"Here, let me help you Ma'am."
"My husband....rant....rant....rope.....I told him.....rant......idiot!
"It’s no problem, Ma'am we will just put it back on the truck."
He was very nice.
No ticket.
No problem.
Probably drove away counting his blessings that he wasn't married to me.
And saying a prayer for my husband.
Whatever.....
So as I sit here on this peaceful Saturday morning enjoying a steaming cup of tea, I am sending up a prayer of thanks.
One, that I am blessed enough to live in this incredible place.
And two, that I am not that person who lost their recliner out the back of their truck on 805 this week.
Cuz you know they had to go chair shopping the next day.
And you can bet they coughed up some extra cash to let someone ELSE deliver it.
Delivery Fee, $50.
Not having your significant other smack you in the head with a broom cuz you dropped the NEW recliner out of the back of the truck,
PRICELESS.....
......I'm just sayin'