I was driving down Wilshire through Beverly Hills the other day when I came to an intersection where they were repairing a traffic light at an intersection. The light was out and a traffic cop was standing in the middle of the intersection, directing traffic. As I passed, I noticed that a car was waiting to cross Wilshire, but the traffic cop was gesturing that only a right turn was permitted. He kept waving for the car to turn right instead of crossing Wilshire, but the car seemed to be stubbornly refusing. It was an unoccupied Waymo. I had to drive on with the flow of traffic, so I didn't get to see how this standoff played out. The Waymo clearly wasn't able to recognize this human being with white gloves telling it which way to turn, and the traffic cop didn't seem to recognize that there wasn't anyone occupying the Waymo car. For all I know, they're still there, each stubbornly trying to stick to its programming.

Many years ago I saw that the Pacific Palisades Women's Club was hosting a lecture by someone who was some kind of guru teaching tantric yoga and (I think) some form of meditation. I decided to go see what I could learn. I arrived a bit early and saw a bunch of women milling around out front, waiting for the lecture. I seemed to be the only male there, except for one other guy. He was sitting on a low wall sucking on a cigarette. He was overweight, his hair was askew and he was sweating through the thin silk of his wrinkled Hawaiian shirt. He seemed a bit lost. I remember thinking, "Brother, you probably need this lecture more than anybody." I went inside and took my seat. A few moments later, the speaker showed up. You guessed it: It was the guy I'd seen outside. So I got up and left.