Hard to ReL.A.X.

My daily commute takes me by right by LAX on the 405. Not by the terminal, which features an interesting light display, as well as a 70's relic restaurant from the "not too distant future," that looks like it may even spin, but by the runways. Over the past month or so, I've been developing an uncomfortable fixation on it, particularly on the evening commute home. See, the planes that are arriving fly RIGHT over the highway. I could be wrong, but I'm guessing that the runway is no more than a half-mile from the road. What I find particularly odd is, the geniuses at city planning decided to line up the runway perpendicularly to the freeway so as to create this awkward cohabitation between commuter planes and commuter cars. I almost get the impression that back in the day, some eccentric billionaire like Mr. Burns was in charge of the whole thing, and, playing pin the tail on the donkey with a local map, decided, "I want the airport to be right THERE!" "But sir, don't you think that's perilously close to the roads?" "No. Right there. Just make it happen."

So the net result is, you get these planes coming in, flying literally maybe 80 feet above the road (I used some modest office buildings in the vicinity for scale). Worse yet, there are TWO runways parallel to each other. Sometimes the planes are staggered, but sometimes they come in in tandem, like they're drag racing. Unlike any other city I've experienced, L.A. offers HUGE panoramic vistas. On days when the smog is in remission, I swear you can see like 80 miles east, mountains lining the entire backdrop. There are no skyscrapers obstructing the view like I'm accustomed to. You can trail these planes from about the time the pilot instructs you to put your tray up and return your seat to the upright position, if one is so inclined.

Again, I'm increasingly fascinated/disturbed by this routine that's developing for me. As I make my way hoe amongst the other Joe Lunch Pails, I find myself watching the planes in, probably to the point of being dangerous to my driving. I was in Manhattan on 9/11. I miraculously lost no one I know, and at no time was I ever directly in harms way. That said, I WAS in the city (actually in transit on the subway at the time the first plane hit), and obviously I've been affected. Ever since, I've had a borderline unhealthy preoccupation with some of the footage (I watch it on the internet more often than I care to admit), simply because it represented the starkest, most dramatic event of my life, and it happened in my backyard. It's STILL surreal to me. One of my personal legacies from that day is that ever since, before I moved, every time I was walking the streets, and a plane was low enough for me to see or hear, I'd always think, JUST for a second, that it was happening again. So now, as I pass these low-riding flying behemoths every day, they keep looking like kamikaze missles to me, and it bothers me just enough to keep me uncomfortable. Independent of my 9/11 baggage, I think my own common sense would tell me, "These planes have no business flying so close to the road. They have no margin for error."

I don't know what all this means. I certainly don't expect the city planners to happen upon the blog and be like, "He's RIGHT! We need to change the whole thing!" I just think the whole thing is odd, and it happens to strike a particular nerve with me. So I guess the lesson here is, "Keep your distance from my car during my evening commute, lest my eyes stray towards an oncomming plane and I vere out of my lane."