So there I was, walking my dog, on our usual route, and chatting casually on the phone to my fiend Mary who lives in Portland. The sun was out, the sky clear, as per usual in Nor Cal, and the ‘show and blow’ (gardeners) were in full swing. Leaves were beginning to turn a little brown as Fall set in, and there was a very slight chill in the air, although that soon evaporated as I descended upon a parked SUV covered with some kind of white painted slogan. My curiosity peaked and my conversation with Mary suddenly came to an abrupt halt as I read what at first seemed to me to be a joke. After careful study and a few more words with a now very confused Mary in Portland, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The picture above, which Mary insisted I take and forward to her, says it all. I actually circled the SUV twice before taking out my camera. Not only was the man’s name emblazoned boldly on the back of this van, it was on the side and front too, with a message to the town of Los Gatos, suggesting shame be placed on the city for some reason. I was impressed and very interested to know why James Alfred Hogan Jr was a dead beat dad, and not only was I curious as to why Los Gatos should be scorned as well, but it got me thinking, after I ended the call with Mary, what other signs I could decorate my car with and drive around this town insulting or indeed praising people.
Los Gatos has about 30000 residents, and so it’s quite a close-knit community one way or another. People here are also fairly wealthy, by choice or by design, and there is a very lively and one could say, incestuous feeling about this city. Everyone seems to know what everyone else is doing. There is really no place to hide and if someone is shagging someone else’s husband or wife, normally the whole town knows about it before ‘the about to be’ scorned partners of each reckless sinner even have a chance to deny their indiscretions. And it’s with much respect that I bow with some reverence to the “Lavender Lady” for grabbing the bull by its horns and ratting out her husband, if she is indeed married to this man, without giving a ‘rats arse’ to what anyone else might think. Good for you “Lavender Lady”, now move over, it’s my turn.
The only issue in preventing me from completing my task efficiently is that the car I happen to drive is very small and perhaps I wouldn’t be able to fit all the desired verbiage on to the rear and or the sides of said car without creating a ‘newspaper’ like small print version of Lavender Lady’s mammoth extravaganza. Without doubt though, on my car, in big bold black letters, I wouldn’t only insult, enrage, uncover, and blame, I would for sure create a scene like no other in a town which is more synonymous for the way people tend to flaunt what they don’t have rather than living through the more pleasing means of discretion and modesty. Yes, Los Gatos, here it begins and here it will most definitely end.
There is more silicon inside the women that live here than there is in the entire valley, Silicon Valley, located just a few minutes from where I reside. And so, with that said, my first sign should perhaps read, “Vivian, how much did you really pay to look that stupid? 6 Grand?” Vivian knows who she is and probably will read this blog without too much of a shock to her system only because we have had that conversation face to face in rather more unfortunate circumstances. Let’s just say you can see her before her whole body actually turns a corner! Here in Los Gatos there are many restaurants too, all which I think are fairly average. There is one place however that I went twice and twice I threw up after my dinner. And with that in mind, my next sign would be directed to Opa, “Can you people not get it right and cook a meal that doesn’t come back with me looking endlessly for my uncle ‘Rolf’ in my toilette?” And then there is this dickhead that comes through the park each day on his bike when I am out walking my dog. He lives right round the corner from me and I don’t know his name. He is about 70 to 75 years of age, he never smiles and not once in 4 years, even though he’s seen me virtually every single day and even though I make a conscious effort to acknowledge his presence, I have yet to receive a ‘good morning or ‘hello’ or even a smile from his sour puss face. With that in mind, I would write on my car, “Miserable Fucker! Yes you, the man on the bike with the yellow safety vest. Say hello or smile. It might help you through yet another miserable fucking day in your miserable life” I’d park the car right outside his house, since I know where he lives.
Yep, it would be great to follow Lavender Lady’s lead. She is a trendsetter for sure.
I decided to Google Mr. Hogan to see what came up. I discovered that Lavender Lady has some ‘previous’ with the Los Gatos cops and with authority in general. See the link below. This leads me to believe that Mr. Hogan might not be deserved of all the publicity Lavender Lady is bestowing upon his character. I need to investigate further, because here in a town where the criminal reports read like a comic book every week in the local press, this really is fascinating if you love to pry! I am not really into gossip, but Lavender Lady started it by flaunting insults brazenly across her windshield, and now, well, now curiosity has the better of me.