Modesto

When we pulled into Modesto an hour or so before sunset, it seemed like something had gone wrong. The streets were quiet; by the time the sun went down, they'd be empty. We walked around for a few hours, ducking into alleys, marveling at all the perfectly-manicured trees and bushes (trimmed by whom? for whose benefit?), and feeling like the only people alive.


A sandwich shop built out of an old gas station. They apparently close at 3pm every day, so we found Brighter Side in darkness.


The State Theatre, which looks like it shows an impressive selection of independent and etcetera films. This is where I would be if I lived in Modesto.


Once more with clarity.


Lighting the way for no one.


While looking for the State Theatre, we were mistakenly drawn to these lights instead. A security guard, maybe a few years older than us, came over while we were taking pictures. I was expecting trouble, but he just wanted to talk. I guess the quiet streets, peaceful as they are, can get to you after a while.

He said this theater had been built maybe five years ago, which surprised me because I've never seen a modern-day movie theater this nice. They sometimes add special lighting to the facade for events, and he showed us photos on his phone that he'd taken from the top of a nearby parking garage. I asked him why the streets were so quiet, but he didn't have an answer. When I guessed that maybe Modesto was a college town, which might be sleepy on a Monday, he had a hard time even naming any nearby schools. I pointed out the beauty college that we'd passed on our walk, but he didn't think that counted.