Simon Says

Guess who was driving in the car next to me in Beverly Hills this afternoon? It was none other than Simon Cowell, the surly judge we love to hate on TV’s “American Idol.” He was driving a very expensive looking midnight blue Bentley, probably on his way to CBS Television City studios where “Idol” is taped (though it’s broadcast on Fox).

In true LA fashion, Simon had a cell phone pressed to his ear with his right hand and was lighting a cigarette with his left. I’m sure he had a whipped-double-decaf-soy-frappuccino-mocha-latte in the cup holder next to him.

We cruised along side-by-side for several blocks, and I half considered rolling down my window to sing at him – I don’t get enough abuse in my life – but I couldn't think of a song to sing and I was distracted by the unusually horrible traffic. Suddenly I realized the police had blocked off the street ahead of us at Cedars Sinai hospital and traffic was being diverted to side streets at a crawling pace. Perhaps it was another bomb scare, I thought, but later I saw on the news there was a gunman running loose at the Beverly Center shopping mall across the street from the hospital and the police were in the process of apprehending him. Joy.

My Friday afternoon commute, which usually takes 30 minutes or less, took more than an hour and fifteen minutes. Now I know the song I should've sang for Simon: “I love LA!”