I noticed something frightening the other day. I was tooling around my hometown of Newark, CA, in my car. I drove over one particular overpass -- one that goes over Interstate 880 -- and even though I had no need or desire to get onto the freeway, I felt the urge to look down to see how much traffic was there.

This is very unnerving, yet Pavlovian in nature. When I was young and rode with my grandparents in their vehicles, each time we crossed this particular overpass -- Central Avenue over 880 -- my grandfather would be curious about the traffic. No reason that he should be, but he was curious about the traffic.

And if someone didn't tell him about the heavniess of the traffic, hoo boy, would we hear about it. "CHECK THE TRAFFIC! HONEY, HOW'S THE TRAFFIC??? WILL YA CHECK???" Again, this is when he had no desire to get on the freeway; in fact, there is no freeway entrance at this particular overpass. Yet we still had to check the traffic.

Later in life, now that my grandparents no longer drive, I STILL have the sense of having to check the traffic going over this overpass. This occurred to me just last week, and I was frightened. I guess we DO bear resemblance to our families after all...

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Homeward bound!