I landed late last night and went to one of the numerous LAX major chain
hotels at which priceline.com will put me up when I tell it I don't really want to pay very much money for a room but must have 3 stars. This morning, the hotel lobby was filled, as airport hotel lobbies tend to be, with Asian and European tourists. I decided to be "green" today, and to ride the "green line" and "blue line" light rail systems into downtown. These are charming rides, although definitely not an express route downtown vis a vis renting a car as I usually do.
At the elevated LAX "green line" station (located a busride away from LAX, needless to say), the concrete chairs were arranged like patio furniture. A piece of transparent plastic wall was printed with Langston Hughes' poem "What Happens to a Dream Deferred?". I thought to myself how instead of turning into a "raisin in the sun" or just exploding, as the poem suggests, most deferred dreams probably pay the one dollar and sixty cents for the ticket and transfer to downtown Los Angeles.
As I passed by dying palm trees planted in inappropriate places to provide a scenic view for the "blue line", I thought the trees said something about Los Angeles--a place I love, but a place of misplaced pathways and
dying palmtree dreams. But then the train moved from depressed apartments and faded storefronts and churches that had seen better days to a quick, lively view of the Watts Rose Garden, and I realized that things bloom in the oddest, but most wonderful places.