Laguna Beach residents have privileged lives filled with secluded natural beauty, art, charm and luxury. But there is a byproduct to this oasis: We’ve become deaf to noise. We hear what we want to hear. Sirens, for example, have gone mostly silent. We are immune to their gravity because they are incessant.
If a siren echoes in the canyon, the question is not, “Oh, I wonder what happened?” Instead, it’s, “Do I turn around now or stay in traffic and hope that the delay is not too bad?”
With our fishbowl hillsides, perhaps it’s not surprising that we tune out sirens. They are interminable, bouncing up the hills like a perfect amphitheater. We also capture the eternal ocean sounds that race to land – the jet skis, the military helicopters, the showboating private planes. On some days, it’s been alleged, we can even hear the deep bellows of Catalina’s bison.
And so it was ironic that this writer finally heard his own private siren. As I lay on Laguna Canyon Road, my scooter on top of me, my back broken, I actually apologized to all of my Lagunians for creating another siren.
Despite the excruciating pain in my back, I knew I was clogging up afternoon canyon traffic.
In fact, a friend later admitted that my accident caused her to be late for an inland appointment. But she also realized that maybe there was a lesson to be learned.
“I was given the gift of a reminder to keep the Buddhist perspective,” she said. “I lamented the inconvenience yesterday of being late to a meeting on El Toro Road because of a damned accident in the canyon – which was actually Dave’s mishap. Sorry, Dave.”
Another friend was eating a late lunch at his canyon business – directly in front my accident site. He just sat and ate his lunch. There were plenty of other Good Samaritans helping, so he figured it was being handled.
“OMG!! That was you!!” he texted later. “What the heck!? Oh, buddy, are you OK? Is this your scooter sitting on the road? I can grab it and bring it on my property!”
Yes, that was my scooter.
It was a scooter not seen by a man turning quickly into a parking spot as he brought me along with him.
When I hit the ground, I felt the back pain immediately and knew it was probably broken. Fortunately, there was no loss of feeling or movement in my extremities. I wasn’t paralyzed. I will heal.
But I’ve had time to think about all the other sirens that I ignored. Each one with a victim, each with a story.
Laguna Canyon Road has lots of stories. Unfortunately, they are not happy ones.
Maybe someday the city and county will muster enough energy and funds to fix Laguna Canyon Road. It is one of the most dangerous roads in Orange County, they say.
The only thing that prevents it from being a complete bloodbath is its congestion. Most of the time cars are in stop-and-go gridlock. But not always.
Which is why I was riding the scooter to begin with.
A scooter, a bike, a pedestrian … nothing is really safe.
The only sure thing is the sirens will continue – muted, diminishing calls for help until we hear nothing, do nothing, and are lesser for it.
