Edward drove El Capitan like he had ten trillion times before. Off in the distance, a show was taking place. The lightning over the Sierra Nevada’s was lighting up the clouds and in doing so providing an ominous, if not wholly breathtaking sight.

The nice thing about the night is the ability to see displays of light (of virtually any kind) with greater distinction than in the day (an observation understood by most). The distance from Edward’s car to the Sierras was a considerable distance, possibly one hundred miles away, give or take a few miles.

The car headed eastbound, gaining ground on the mountain range off in the distance, the only way to judge from the flashes of light that could be seen intermittently. There was a problem however, how could Edward fully enjoy the show taking place with the incoming traffic heading westbound in the very lane next to him?

A flash of light in the distance, and then some approaching car lights, what a lame ass pattern. If only there was someway to inform the individuals coming from the light show that they were tarnishing Edward’s experience. Would they understand the significance of the moment? Did they care about the brilliance of the electrical storm over the mountains?

In all likelihood they would care less, the only way to take care of the problem was to reach higher ground (or perhaps no ground at all), far above the lights of the oncoming traffic “This is no form of aircraft” Edward thought to himself, being clearly aware of the fact that Honda’s, no matter how good their engineering, were not capable of flying.

Edward, with no other course of action to take, opened the sunroof of the car. If he was to do this, he would need a driver. Luckily, his good friend Jack was in the passenger seat, and was an excellent driver. Edward requested of Jack that he take the wheel, in doing so Edward would be able to stick himself out the top of the car, gaining advantage in the war to observe the light show.

Country driving always holds the inherent disadvantage of being hit by bugs, not so much on the person but on the automobile itself. This evening would be different, being menaced by the insect horde would hold a much more personal meaning in this instance. Edward would literally come face to face with the little critters on this evening, their impedance much less distracting and entirely more benign than the oncoming traffics.

Edward, having been born in San Jose, California on a summer evening, in the month of June – 1976 years after the supposed birth of the Christian lord, couldn’t have asked for a better day to be born on.

In fact there was no request to be turned in for a different day, that was the only day available for someone of his intellectual and experiential girth to be born.

The south bay area of California, the earthly area in which San Jose is found, can be a beautiful place, most certainly when the subject of weather is discussed, not quite so when other subjects are discussed. The South Bay area had fallen victim to urbanization during the baby boom, exquisite geography with an inexpicably beautiful climate.

Urbanization is hardly ever an attractive thing, typically a poorly planned endeavor, especially in relation to the more fertile valleys of California. It could almost be said that wherever a rich agricultural area may be in the state – dozens and dozens of subdivisions lacking in personality are sure to call it home at some point.

The good thing is the sun doesn’t know who, what, or how poorly planned a thing it is smiling down upon.

The fact that Edward was born in such a valley could mean only one thing – that he would forever be faced with poor planning and an unrelenting yet friendly sun shining brightly over his head.