Brotherhood of the Pedestrian

In Los Angeles, they are strict about the jaywalking laws. You have to cross the street at a designated crosswalk. You have to wait for the proper command from the sign above. They often time your walk across like you're participating in some goofy stunt on "Beat The Clock."

This ain't New York, folks. You want to know how many times I diagonally ran across Madison Avenue from 47th Street to 49th Street? Hell, I ran across 42nd Street and Madison yesterday. The light was green and I was trying to catch a train.

Cops will nail you in LaLa Land. Outside my office building, there is a motorcycle cop who hangs out behind a bush waiting to nab somebody who doesn't obey the "hand."

Now, this shouldn't be a big problem in your day. After all, there is a button on each corner. You press it and the light changes, allowing you to scoot across the street.

Except for this. You know when you get to the crosswalk of an intersection when a pedestrian is already there ahead of you, and you're tempted to press the button, but you don't do it, because you feel it would be insulting to the person who got there ahead of you? Or you press the button, but you feel a little guilty or stupid about it? And then, the other person glares at you like they think you're the moron.

Anyway, the last three times I've gotten to the crosswalk with other preople there, the knuckleheads haven't pushed the button. They've just been standing there, waiting to cross or Godot, depending upon what shows up first. So, then this forces all of us to scramble through the intersection at Jose Reyes speed against the omnipresent "red hand."

It's like the squirrels who get out of the way of a car. It should be instinctive. Do your part, folks. Get your heads out of your a.....

Press the freakin' button!

Dinner last night: barbecue pork ribs at TGI Fridays in the Palisade Mall.