single one is non-fiction. I’m a magnet for freak occurrences, but always 2-3 witnesses. For example, flying back from Japan, so my 2 Brothers & nephew decide to fly to LA & meet me. We took my nephew to Magic Mtn. As we’re driving down the 405 late afternoon, and we begin notice to people just packed onto the overpasses. Acting weird, giddy, jumping around. Running around, holding up signs. Than 405 just grinds to a halt, insta-parking lot. Cars veering onto shoulder, middle barrier, and the right in the middle of 405. Jumping outta their cars, leaving doors open & very intently looking at something coming the opposite way. Then, 10-12 choppers in V formation like a mess o Canadian geese, headed North right toward us. Being a little slow on the uptake, we finally think of turning in the radio. Right about that time, before we hear the radio, we people yelling “Juice, yo OJ, OJ’s coming right at us!!” Just as the white Bronco comes into view, the radio informs us The Juice is fleeing the cops, at 25 mph. Radio kept saying OJ was driving the Bronco. So as this bizarro Maximus scene unfolds, it felt it took an hour for that Bronco to cover that mile to finally reach us. So as he passed, it later reminded me of that scene from dumb & dumber when they end up in Kansas instead of Colo. And the extreme disappointment in the legendary rocky mtns, He turns and says, “Man, that John Denver is really full of crap!”

My two brothers and I, in perfect unison turned to each other “That isn’t OJ! They’re chasin the wrong dude” June 14? 1994, we stumbled into the OJ chase. Ha, and the year before we went to the UCLA/ BYU game st the Rose Bowl. That heinous 66-14 blowout game. On sunset blvd we were in a grocery store w the old school glass & narrow doors, not the big open entrances there are now. In the checkout line, my little brother and I hear the loud squealing of tires. We look up just in time to see The this big Ol early 70’s boat of a Ford LTD come plowing right through the glass front w/o even slowing & just slam into a checkout island thing. It was so loud, sounded like a detonation. This wild eyed lady climbs out the window, because the door was wedged closed. She leaped up onto the roof of the car & turned to point from whence she came. At about 140 decibels she started pleading for us to help her. To save her, that the devil was chasing her. “On a bicycle, I kno, sounds weird, but it’s def him!! I know it, and he’ll get all y’all too if you don’t help me! HEEEELLLLP!! She was just squealing.” What we remembered most, within z30 seconds of the front of that store crashing in, there as people streaming out the doors, two cases of beer on either shoulder , some had a dozen steaks stacked up, just gliding out the doors, dozens of people. It was Navy Seal like speed, precision & timing. We were laughing, it just struck us so funny. We didnt see that kinda of mass looting efficiency in DavisCounty. Walking brisk, w purpose, like all is legit. Except the cases of beers stacked on shoulders & tower of tasty Ribeyes, at a deep discount. I’m serious, I’m a freak magnet. Esp whenever we hit Calif. always bizarre something or other.