The Next Arsenal of Democracy

The first thing you notice in El Segundo is how serene it is. Yet, as I take in the quiet charm of its Main Street, my mind is still withdrawing from the rattle-banging anarchy I left behind moments ago. Back on the Imperial Highway, before the turn-off, planes landing at or departing from Los Angeles International Airport screamed overhead. Cars jostled, windows open, hard music ripping out. A sea of red brake lights flashed commuter frustration. One hell-bent driver darted across three lanes—no, four—and, in defiance of honks and middle fingers, made an exit from the freeway. Life in Los Angeles! I had managed to exit with less drama, and now, in El Segundo, I wait peacefully at a red light, considering the public church directory posted by the Kiwanis Club in the middle of the main intersection (15 churches are listed). It dawns on me that maybe the highway exit was really a time machine.