What freeway is she on?

WAS Mary McNamara’s ode to the freeway (“Personal Space in Cruising Cocoons,” April 22) a reprint from the early ‘70’s? Thanks for the bit of nostalgia, but when was the last time you saw the 101 freeway “moving fast”?

Get with the times, Ms. McNamara: Freeways fell out of fashion with the macarena. Nowadays in L.A., the only eye contact you’re likely to make with another freeway driver would be the “gaze of death” in the midst of a fit of road rage (hopefully without any accompanying gestures) while caught in a horrendous traffic jam. And self-confident and able-bodied pedestrians are so much more attractive than those insecure types that insist on hiding behind steering wheels.

With our rapidly expanding rail network spurring pedestrian activity in long-neglected neighborhoods such as Hollywood and downtown L.A., 21st century Angelenos have once again discovered the joys of actual face-to-face flirting around town. And in the trains, now you have an opportunity to check out and chat up your new prospect before even getting to the bar.

Roberto Velazquez-Woo

Duarte