On the freeway overpass are two shirtless boys. Crewcuts and untied sneakers and skinny arms with ribs that show. They are waving to the cars passing below in between drinks from their tall sport bottles (extra long white straws).

Once in a while a truck goes by and they jump up and down and give the big "bent elbow pump up and down thing" with one arm. Hoping for a big horn blast from the eighteen wheeler.

I haven't heard a response yet. I am stuck on the side of the road with a spastic radiator. Waiting on a tow truck. I envy them- they are in no hurry. Life at that age is hour to hour, day to day at worst. Their next big worry is which house they will go to for lunch and whether they can find any unopened bags of chips.