A reminder of why I love California

The route that Brian and I walk our dogs along every day is an interesting mix of scenic pastures and urban surface streets. I like that on any given day, I am just as likely to run into a herd of cows as I am a band of gun toting teenagers. It keeps things interesting.

This evening we were walking along Olivera Road when we came upon two imposing looking men. They sported facial tattoos, baggy dark clothes and tough guy attitudes that seemed to suggest they were former inmates or gang members. Here in North Concord, it's likely they could have been both.

"Be careful, honey," Brian cautioned from behind me as he slowed the dogs down to let the men climb into their souped up truck. The driver threw his door open and put the key in the ignition, firing up the car's engine and unleashing the startling sounds of:



I just about choked myself trying to keep my laughter inside. As soon as we'd rounded the corner, Brian started chuckling and I let my breath out in a huge whoosh of air as I started cracking up.

The totally eclectic vibe of California is what makes me love my home state, even though it can't keep its sh*t together sometimes. In the same way that you can visit the snow, desert, mountains, oceans and forests in California, you can also expect to find hippies married to soldiers and ghetto thug types who bump sentimental country music from their sweet sound systems.

California, I love you, you hot mess. You are just like me.