Around this time of year in 2006, I visited Los Angeles for the first and only time of my life.  The following is a recount of a Sunday afternoon sightseeing excursion to Hollywood on a break from the conference.  I hadn’t read it in a while, and it brought back memories.  So, with no better fresh invention, here I repeat . . .

It happened like this: I was walking down Hollywood Boulevard last Sunday afernoon (October 29, 2006) sightseeing. I had ridden the subway out from downtown, emerging from the bowels of the subterranean station  into a thoroughly unfamiliar piece of the world. I headed in the direction I assumed was back toward town, calculating I could walk the mile or so to the next subway station at Hollywood and Vine, return to the train, and travel back to the hotel.

As I walked and walked and walked some more, passing from the tourist-choked sidewalks along Grauman’s Theatre and the other gaudy sites in that heart of town, the neighborhoods became increasingly residential–rows of apartments on rows of apartments. After walking a considerable distance, I started to wonder: “Could I be headed in the wrong direction?”

At this point, a lesser man — a citified man, if you will — might have panicked. Here’s a summation of the situation:

Two thousand miles from home, alone, lost in the concrete wilderness.

Potentially exasperating?

 But never fear–those superior instincts honed in the wiles of Louisiana seized control and cooly analyzed the situation. Recalling from my map study before leaving the hotel that Hollywood Boulevard runs east and west, and realizing the hour of the afternoon was advancing, I simply surveyed the position of the sun. Determining that I was heading in the direction of the sunset . . . ergo, westward, I immediately reversed my course, backtracked the mile or so I had walked out of my way, and eventually came upon Hollywood and Vine, at which point I descended to the subway and rode back to town.

No panic, no stress, no sweat (except some literal perspiration, for the afternoon was a little balmy).

For you see, a country boy can survive!


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