Sig Alert
Loyd Sigmon was a local radio reporter in Los Angeles that developed a unique relationship with the LAPD during the 1940's.
It seems that whenever there was a bad car wreck on city streets, the police got into the habit of notifying Mr. Sigmon. Over time, these notifications entered the vernacular of Southern California and became known as "Sig-Alerts." It is, apparently, a term unique to Southern California but the frustration in being caught in one is definitely universal.
Fortunately, I am one of the few residents of Southern California that doesn't have to deal with traffic on an everyday basis.
My house is exactly 4.8 miles from my typical parking spot at my work and I don't have a need to get on a highway to get to it. A bad traffic day for me is when I hit 8 or more red lights.
I guess I should have been expecting to get backhanded by some serious traffic karma on the way to the funeral.
We had left our house in Orange for the funeral in Whittier a solid 90 minutes prior to the services. Number 2 and I were in my car and the Commander, the Chicken, and Nerdle were in another car.
We hit traffic almost immediately.
Bad traffic.
The kind of traffic that makes me wish to see a demolished car on the side of the road because there is no excuse for the freeway that I need to take to get to my dad's funeral to be so packed at 9:30 a.m. on a Thursday morning.
I scan the AM dial and there is no news about this traffic.
While watching the minutes tick off of the clock, I continue to worry about things that I can't control. Most of all, I see-saw between two questions.
What if we don't make it in time?
and
What if nobody shows up?
It's entirely possible that this whole day could go south in just a matter of minutes. We just have to make it on time.
My whole week has been just like a sig alert and this is just the frickin' cherry on top of the sundae.
I feel like if I could just make it through today and have it go well (or as about as well as one can hope a funeral goes), I can bust through this sig alert that I'm currently in and get my life back on track.
We finally make it to our off ramp with about 15 minutes to spare. It's another 5 minutes to the chapel but then I'm coffin-blocked by a funeral procession that is cruising along at about 10 mph.
All of us eventually make it to the chapel and instantly both of my questions are answered.
We have made it on time but we have a difficult time finding a parking space.
There were a lot of people here.
VW
It seems that whenever there was a bad car wreck on city streets, the police got into the habit of notifying Mr. Sigmon. Over time, these notifications entered the vernacular of Southern California and became known as "Sig-Alerts." It is, apparently, a term unique to Southern California but the frustration in being caught in one is definitely universal.
Fortunately, I am one of the few residents of Southern California that doesn't have to deal with traffic on an everyday basis.
My house is exactly 4.8 miles from my typical parking spot at my work and I don't have a need to get on a highway to get to it. A bad traffic day for me is when I hit 8 or more red lights.
I guess I should have been expecting to get backhanded by some serious traffic karma on the way to the funeral.
We had left our house in Orange for the funeral in Whittier a solid 90 minutes prior to the services. Number 2 and I were in my car and the Commander, the Chicken, and Nerdle were in another car.
We hit traffic almost immediately.
Bad traffic.
The kind of traffic that makes me wish to see a demolished car on the side of the road because there is no excuse for the freeway that I need to take to get to my dad's funeral to be so packed at 9:30 a.m. on a Thursday morning.
I scan the AM dial and there is no news about this traffic.
While watching the minutes tick off of the clock, I continue to worry about things that I can't control. Most of all, I see-saw between two questions.
What if we don't make it in time?
and
What if nobody shows up?
It's entirely possible that this whole day could go south in just a matter of minutes. We just have to make it on time.
My whole week has been just like a sig alert and this is just the frickin' cherry on top of the sundae.
I feel like if I could just make it through today and have it go well (or as about as well as one can hope a funeral goes), I can bust through this sig alert that I'm currently in and get my life back on track.
We finally make it to our off ramp with about 15 minutes to spare. It's another 5 minutes to the chapel but then I'm coffin-blocked by a funeral procession that is cruising along at about 10 mph.
All of us eventually make it to the chapel and instantly both of my questions are answered.
We have made it on time but we have a difficult time finding a parking space.
There were a lot of people here.
VW
posted by JVW at 9:28 PM
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