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  • Expectations were high today. Three weeks into the new year, the temperatures having taken a turn to what is expected of Los Angeles, folks shifted focus to expectations of their resolutions. Garaged vintage Porsches, betrayed only by frivolous color trends (Leaf Green? Tangerine?), reflected jerseyed packs and high-tech strollers, while acquainted spandexed runners exchanged rhetorical warm salutes and occasional reminders revealing the cold fact that names don't matter—it's occupations they'll remember. (Responding to such glib greeting, a David made double time of the flush in his cheeks.) Despite bad car colors, bad cycling outfits, and bad memory in general, everyone felt hot and that's what matters.
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