Each morning I drive through Topanga Canyon to the Pacific Coast Highway to get to work. For the uninitiated, Topanga is a winding road cutting through the Santa Monica Mountains. At the top is a little community still trapped in the 60's. Quaint (read: small) cabins and houses, arts & crafts shops, some theater troupes etc. Not my thing, but the residents love it so power to 'em.
Each morning as I come down the last stretch of the canyon I can see the Pacific Ocean waiting for me. Also waiting for me is this guy:
Every morning I see a man looking just like Forrest here, running. A dirty, filthy man...just...running. He is wearing jeans, one of those Grateful Dead style hoodie things and sandals. Don't know where he is running to or where from. He is always emerging from the canyon forrest like Big Foot or something.
If I had an ounce more humanity I would stop and ask what's up.