Looking out a Window...

I visited my cardiologist this afternoon. The waiting room was full. The other patients looked like they wanted to be somewhere else. Or maybe their appointments were falling behind; I know mine did...by about 45 minutes. I had the latest Los Angeles magazine to keep me busy. I wonder how many people are out there who need a $20,000.00 watch encrusted with jewels. But then when did cars start costing $45,000.00 and more? Cheap cars cost around $20,000.00...the same as the aforementioned watch. Something is out of balance. I bought a hot little Fiat Sport Coupe for $3500.00 in the early seventies. Now Fiat is back in the market. I saw an ad in the L.A. Magazine for a tiny little "pop-top" convertible car Fiat is introducing to  American carbuyers. Cost was not quoted, but I expect a price tag of close to $20,000.00 with tax and license. The same price as the aforementioned watch. I would rather have the car, even if it isn't encrusted with jewels.

Frankly, I tired of the L.A. Magazine with its ads for outrageously expensive everything, and its coverage of very chic restaurants and fashions. So I picked up a year-old People magazine. Actually, the oldest magazine I found in the waiting room was over two years old. There were magazines piled up everywhere now that I think of it.

Try reading a year-old People magazine. Serious dis-orientation is the result. The same crap going on today was going on a year ago. The only giveaway that you are reading "history" is that some celebrity-mom-to-be back then was sighted just yesterday carrying her toddler on her hip. Bikini-bodies, tanning, celebrity break-ups, Prince William, diet-plans....nothing changes. One has to ask who or what is defining our interests and lives.

When my turn came I was ushered into a room....in the corner was a treadmill. It was the same room I had undergone the stress test back in March. This room was where it all started, in a sense, though the reality is that "it" had all started years ago because of my lifestyle.

I stood there looking out the third story window. Cars and trucks sped by below. The Whittier Hills, the same that rise behind our house, stood out brown and sunburned in the near-distance. A shuttered car agency across the street was a reminder of our economic mess and lost jobs. A few kids peddled furiously by on bikes as if pursued. Life was passing...Time was passing.

SRH