I live in Pomona. Pomona pretty much sucks.
But I experienced a soaring pride for Pomona today. I was getting off the freeway at the 10 and Garey. I was under the bridge, waiting for the light to turn green. And then I saw it, 14 million police motorcycles, several black Towncars (and other cars), and more cops, some big SUV type cars (also all black).
Oh yes my friends, it was the Obama motorcade. I cheered. I called J and told him I was part of a historical moment. He chuckled. This is one time I didn't mind sitting in traffic. It was quick and fun. And you know, I saw Obama's car. All is right with the world.
A woman (who clearly isn't a Pomona resident) popped her head out of the car, whipped out her Nikon with a zoom lens and took a photo. She is lucky she didn't lose her melon and her Nikon in one fell swoop. This is Pomona lady and every cop in Pomona is following Obama right now. Don't stick anything outside your window.
A few weeks ago, J left his 3 year old, dirty, construction, tennis shoes on our doorstep. They were stolen. Pomona, it's so classy.
Pomona is so classy that in October some lovely young men broke into my car and took my GPS, the Diego party decorations that I bought for my Lulo's birthday, my car manual, a spare key FOR THE CAR, and my bag of earthquake supplies consisting of clothes that haven't fit me since I stopped living with my parents and some 14 year old granola bars. They left the unopened bottle of red wine. Pomona, it drips with class.
Anyhow, Obama and I are tight now. He was in my hood. Woot Woot. That was pretty cool.