|Somebody help me, I'm being spontaneous!
||[Apr. 17th, 2011|11:23 am]
When I moved here, I mentioned to my dad that living in Mountain View was like living in a theme park. Everyone's lawn is creepily well manicured; the weather is always perfect; and it's far more clean, prosperous, educated, and privileged than most places. My dad responded by joking that I should make sure I wasn't in some kind of Truman Show situation. (The weather isn't actually always perfect; there's the occasional massive rainstorm, but that only serves to make things seem even more Truman Show-esque.)
Last night, I went out for a run, up along Shoreline over the 101 and around the Google buildings. This is, on the whole, not necessarily something that one is well-advised to do if one is interested in lessening the sense that one is in a theme park, but I did it anyway.
As I was running along Charleston Road, I saw a green-painted metal box, about four feet high, on the grassy median of the road. It had its door hanging wide open. I jogged over to take a look. Inside the box was some machinery and a little red VFD screen. I looked closer. The screen said:
It was not, at that moment, raining.