okay I have to send this because it arrived right
next to [lunch event]
- Original Message -
From: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
Sent: Thursday, March 16, 2006 7:09 PM
Subject: "Lunch"
I read an article
the other day in the L.A. Times about how Best Picture Oscar winner "Crash" does
not accurately reflect the "real" Los Angeles. The author of the article
described a typical series of encounters in a local neighborhood that involved
interactions between people of various nationalities and skin colors, none of
which resulted in violence, name-calling or even a minor misunderstanding.
It was somewhat clever and mildly ironic, but not exactly an earth-shattering
revelation. After all, what is more surprising, a movie that does not
accurately reflect reality, or a moviegoer who expects a movie to accurately
reflect reality.As it happened, I was reading the article while having
lunch at Irv's Burgers, while in the background owner Sonia Hong carried on a
constant stream of conversation with patrons and staff, that slipped easily from
English to Korean to Spanish and back again. The lunch crowd at
Irv's is a microcosm of L.A. society containing a representative
cross-section of class, color and culture, including rich, poor, young, old,
black, white, Hispanic, Asian, gay, straight, and tourists. I got
to thinking about a line from the movie Crash uttered by Don Cheadle's character
-- something about how nobody in L.A. has any contact with anyone else, so we
have to crash into each other just to feel something. I have had a few
"crashes" while living here, and I have to say I think I did learn a little more
about myself and my neighbors from each.Once, while waiting at a
stoplight I got cut off by a woman in a white sedan. She angled he car in
front of me, preventing me from going forward even after the light
changed. There was barely enough room for me to squeeze by her and slip
into the other lane in order to make the light. I nudged her bumper with
mine ever so slightly as I did so -- but didn't really think I'd done any
harm. Apparently she thought differently, as I learned after she chased me
down for two blocks, honking and flashing her lights. I pulled over and
got out of my car, filled with indignation."You hit my car!" she
cried."You cut me off!" I protested."You scratched my
bumper!""I barely touched you..."This went on for several
minutes, and I was getting pretty mad. But as I was reaching into the car
for my insurance info, it occurred to me that I wasn't mad at her. I was
mad because she was right. I did hit her car. Whether or not I
caused any appreciable damage, the fact remained that I caused my car to come in
contact with her car. I looked at her and said, "You know what -- you're
right, I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."Suddenly the whole
situation changed. Her face relaxed and she actually smiled, "It's not so
bad. I can probably fix it with some rubbing compound."And that
was that. She was satisfied. She didn't even want my insurance
info. All she wanted was for me to admit that I was wrong and to
apologize. And it really wasn't that hard to do. And it was
free. After that, I learned that a lot of situations can be diffused
merely by admitting that I was wrong and apologizing. Even if I don't
think I'm wrong, I can still apologize. It doesn't cost me anything and it
seems to do wonders for people who are upset. Who knew?Another
time, I was pulling away from the curb and some guy who was coming around the
left side of a parked bus decided to swerve into my lane. He tore my front
bumper halfway off and left it dangling in the street. As it turned out he
was an old Asian man who could barely speak English and had a lot of trouble
seeing when it came time for to write down his name for me. I think he was
legally blind. Naturally the accident was my fault, since I
was pulling away from the curb and he had the "right of way". I don't see
how you can call it the "right of way" when the guy is changing lanes without
looking or signaling and can't see beyond the end of his nose, but them's the
rules.Anyway he went on his way and I was stuck with a torn-off
bumper. As I was attempting to try and figure out what the hell I was
going to do, a hispanic man, who had been sitting at the bus stop and had
witnessed the whole thing, came over and started helping me. He didn't
speak any English either and he didn't really need to say much, he just tied my
bumper back onto the frame with some rope I had in the trunk and then got on his
bus. He didn't ask for money, he didn't seem to expect any thanks -- he
just wanted to help. I drove around with that tied-on bumper for several
months before I finally got it fixed. And when I called my insurance
company to see if my rates were going up, I found out that the old Asian guy
never filed a claim. He could have, but I guess he decided not
to.Despite these positive experiences, I have become a
