Expect the Unexpected
I found myself, unexpectedly, in Santa Cruz last weekend. This is the view of the wooded area behind my son’s apartment there. After an arduous drive north it looked to be the perfect place to wander along and listen to the water gushing past the rocks as well as a perfect place to toss a ball to your dog—way off in the distance here.
So, here is the story of how I got this unexpected bucolic view. My son was coming home from college for spring break March 23 and was unexpectedly at the tail end of a horrific pile up of some 20 plus cars in the rain and fog on the Grapevine—a sometimes-treacherous stretch of Highway 5. My son was OK, but his car was unexpectedly totaled. He hadn’t expected to spend his entire spring break down here in SoCal, but that’s the way his brief vacation unfolded. So, I gave him a ride back to school last Saturday. I often refer to various freeways in SoCal in my writing and the 5 is a major truck and car freeway that will take you from San Diego through to Portland Oregon. We hadn’t planned to go on 5, but the weather was fine and it really is usually the quickest way. But of course 5 wasn’t quite done with us for the moment as we unexpectedly got caught in a massive traffic jam because a semi had caught fire and blocked all lanes of the freeway. We sat there, motionless for an hour, until we could finally drive slowly past at least 20 clean up and emergency vehicles and what used to be a truck full of stuff. It looked like the huge truck had burned to the ground and everything had melted on the spot, with charred damp cardboard boxes and mangled pieces of metal on the road. Before the massive traffic jam I had tried to make the trip slightly interesting by counting the number of Amazon Prime, Fed Ex and UPS trucks I saw every 30 minutes. But by the time we were moving again I had lost the will to count big rigs anymore. Oh, and Amazon Prime trucks were almost 2 to 1 more than either UPS or Fed Ex. Not so unexpected?
Eventually we got to Santa Cruz, where it continued to be a beautiful day. I just now remembered that it was a lovely day—with expansive fields and bright green etched mountainsides with lupines (both bush lupines and annuals), poppies, owl’s clover, fiddleneck and mustard. In a way, that unexpected beauty and the peaceful moment of people going about their business on this grassy meadow behind my son’s apartment is what we should focus on when dealing with other unexpected yucky stuff. Right? That’s why I let my son unload his belongings from the car while I made a beeline to the sound of water that I clearly heard once we got out of the car. It was such a welcome sound compared to the tire whine of too many cars and trucks going too fast down Highway 5. So, once I knew I would have this lovely moment to focus on and later paint I was set to try a restaurant I saw near my son’s apartment. It’s called Primal and the sign outside said they served breakfast all day long. Even though it was well past 6 pm, breakfast foods sounded great to me—something simple and familiar. But of course Primal was not serving what I was expecting. Their menu was more relevant and purposeful, and our meal was not going to be anything you could get at a pancake house or waffle joint. We were game and actually very hungry at that point and were both ready to try something very Primal and expected for Santa Cruz. We were treated to a lovely meal with the promise of being served “real food.” I had some yummy fish tacos and my son had what looked to be a good burger—good thing they didn’t serve us any unreal food. I had had enough of what seemed like way to many unexpected and unreal moments for about a month.
I left my son in Santa Cruz and headed back to SoCal on Sunday morning. I had noticed that Primal served what looked to be great coffee, so I stopped there on my way out of town to have breakfast. Yes, I was still hopping that their promise of breakfast was as real as their promise of “real food.” Never had a cappuccino with raw milk and my bagel with schmear was very unexpected, but tasty. But everyone who worked there was so friendly, intense, purposeful and sincere and left me alone so I could read (Reading The Razor’s Edge right now…) while eating my breakfast. It was wonderful. I hope to go back there sometime, and maybe it will meet my “feeling good” expectations again. I chanced to take Highway 5 home and there were no unexpected bits of traffic and/or accidents. Woo hoo! And I was treated to the same beautiful wildflowers on the hillsides I had seen the day before. My dad used to say, “If you don’t expect too much, you are never disappointed. Then everything that comes your way is just icing on the cake.” And who doesn’t love an unexpectedly yummy piece cake?
Don’t groan. This is for my brothers…
And now for something completely different…No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!