You’re loaded with retirees, so of course you have no bumper-to-bumper traffic. They don’t do more than 35 mph.
And that is one my-t-fine premise there, that we have to travel 600 miles to ride horses. It’s not as if Burbank, completely zoned for horse riding, is seven miles from your billboard in Hollywood.
But at least you’re consistently 120 degrees. Like Vegas, minus the casinos and fun. You’re got a bunch of angry, old white people who are literally being cooked to death.
But oh! Horses! Be there tonight.