Trucks Flux and Other Changes in Moorpark

I have lived in Moorpark more than 20 years and I have seen a lot of changes—Tierra Rejada, for example. It was a simple two-lane street that had almost no traffic lights. It did not have a center divider, and where it met up with Spring Road, there was a stop sign. It then meandered over to the newly built freeway.

Now, it could handle the Indie 500 except for the traffic lights that dot nearly every intersection.  It takes longer to get from one end of it to the other than when it was practically a dirt road. Progress. May I take this moment to beg our city leaders to finally get the lights timed? Please!

One of the recent changes I believe has made Moorpark more liveable is the type of vehicle that is popular. Back around the millennium, I had noticed that everybody on my block, and seemingly in the world, had a huge SUV. Although those buggies could carry the entire soccer team plus a month of groceries, they were most often occupied by a single driver who was usually yakking on the phone.

At that time, I honestly couldn’t afford an SUV. When I would get in the long line of parents who were picking up their children at school, I would often be the only actual car in line. I couldn’t see over them, around them, or through them. Driving became a guessing game, especially when trying to pull out of a parking place. Of course, the bigger the rolling living room, the more likely the driver was inclined to back into a parking spot, a trend that I found to be pretty darn obnoxious.

And should life be punishing you in a special way, if you found yourself behind one of those oversized monsters with tinted windows as you pulled into the drive-through, odds were pretty good that the entire soccer team was inside and they were not only hungry, but every kid wanted a special order. No pickles on mine! Extra ketchup on mine! I need two slices of cheese and no burger on mine! The order would take 15 minutes to come out to the car and then another 30 minutes to fix the special orders that were not quite right. Why didn’t they go inside to order? Because they had the biggest, baddest, honkin’ truck in town.

One of my favorite pranks used to be when I found myself cruising alongside a big, fat, Canyonero with a driver who was completely absorbed in their phone conversation and had their window lowered. If they swerved so much as an inch towards me, I would honk. A long honk. You should have seen them jump! Very satisfying.

Life caught up with those people and getting around town now is a lot easier. Phone yakking is forbidden. Can’t say I miss it. Gas prices have spiked. Paying over $4 a gallon for a Civic is a lot more pleasant than filling up the boat for more than $100. And, for some reason, the same drivers have stopped backing up into parking spaces. Maybe that’s because their four-door sedan is a lot easier to maneuver. Plus, we no longer have to play “You Bet Your Life” when we pull out.