HODER - a tale of night, angst, death

                  Paul McGinnis  Fall 1987 - somewhere in the InterZone

    I roll. I glide onto the westbound San Bernardino Fwy, picking
up speed. The road may vanish, but the rows of dots cause my car
to be controlled like a train on its tracks. I start entering the
Diamond Bar area. Angry and loud punk rock on the radio plus similar
noisy music. Currently, the music is "Hit me", which sounds like
a sadomasochism anthem. Maybe, that's what I need - physical pain
to match my emotional pain. I've never been to The Chateau or
Balls & Chains, Inc. but maybe I should. Diamond Bar makes me think
of several things. One, it reminds me of the drive into Oakland
and the SF Bay area. (Odd, I realize I've never entered San Francisco
in the daytime). Also, Diamond Bar feels like a borderlands area -
a border between two countries, or possibly two worlds. I always
half expect to have to stop at a checkpoint when I drive through
here. The song on the radio is "Uncontrollable Urge", which makes
me grimace when I think of how often I sublimate sexual energy into
work or college functions. Something is wrong, and I can't quite
place it. Hmmm... the Hershel's Deli is on the right side of the
freeway and I could have sworn it should have been on the left.
And where is the stone quarry? Then, a sign informs me that LA
is xxx miles away. An important question starts forming in my mind -
Where the hell am I?

    The fog is not a normal fog. It doesn't hug the ground, but hangs
overhead like a poisonous mist. OK wise guy, let's see where the
goddess of chaos has led you now. No need to panic yet - have 3/4
of a tank of gas, cash, and credit card. I realize that somehow,
I've ended up going west on the Pomona Fwy (60 Fwy.) instead of
south on the 57 Fwy. like I was supposed to do. Might as well head
into LA and see if any of my friends there are awake. The road is
almost empty - just a few vehicles with their cloistered occupants,
snug and secure. Traffic comes to halt as we approach the highway
crews at work. They've got 3 of 4 lanes closed. I pass an accident
caused by two drivers being stubborn enough to refuse to yield
to each other. Another driver decides to knock over a safety cone
and drive in one of the closed lanes. He runs out of paved road
and is forced to stop by a bulldozer. Angry construction workers
shake their fists at him and yell. I have to laugh.

    I pass through suburbia and shopping malls with blue, green, and
purple neon tubing glowing in the night. A redneck couple in a Nova
passes me - they have their arms around each other. I realize that they
have something special together and silently wish them good luck. I can
sense that I am approaching downtown LA. Everything starts taking on
a raw, industrial appearance. In the outlying areas, freeway overpasses
are strong, reassuring, curved, smooth megaliths - here, they are
angular with the iron and steel girders visible. And downtown with its
fairy lights, rises out of the mist like the Emerald City of Oz. I pull
off the freeway and start heading towards USC on city streets. A car
full of members of a street gang - homeboys - passes me and I give
them plenty of space.

    I come to the place where a close friend lives. His lights are blazing
and he is drunk and hungry. I drive him to an all-night burger stand
and spot him a couple of bucks for a couple chili burgers. (I don't mind
because he is a close friend, and there have been times when I was poor
and he helped me out). I'm blinded by the spotlight on a police helicopter
that flies overhead looking for trouble. We head back, 3 or 4 miles
to travel. We pass sinister, spectral beings on the empty streets. In
olden times, demons were believed to haunt lonely forests. Are these
people today's demons? But, I can empathize with them since I have been
known to prowl the streets at night. We arrive back, and run into a few
more friends. We reminisce about "the good old days". I fall asleep
after seeing a Michael Jackson music video on the tube. <YAWN!!!>

   I awake after a couple of hours of sleep. I leave quietly. The morning
sun is just starting to lift the autumn chill. I head south and flip
on the news on the car radio. The headline story is about an IRA
terrorist bomb killing at least 11 people in Northern Ireland. I've
been there, and know what will happen next. Now that the Provos (IRA)
are active again, the UDA (Protestant terrorists) will become active also,
committing assassinations of suspected IRA men in front of their wives
and kids. Petrol bombs will arc across the night sky against the police,
who will respond by shooting into the mobs. It'll almost be like West
Beirut. I'm forced to suppress a tear when I think of people's brutality
and stupidity. I admit that the Catholic minority has a valid grievance,
but surely there must be a more civilized way of settling this mess.

    I arrive home in a nice world of flowers and freshly cut lawns under
a pastel sky. I'm tired, and all I want to do is sleep and forget the
world for a few hours. I know it is a copout, but I'm just so angry
and bushed that I really don't care anymore about other people's problems...