If I can hear your music and you have headphones on… your music is too loud.
If I can smell your perfume and I’m not sitting near you… your perfume it’s too strong.
If I know the intimate details of your phone conversation… you are talking too loud.
If I’m sleeping or pretending to sleep… I don’t want to talk to you.
If you think a long commute to work sucks… you’ve landed on the right blog!
Normally I use this blog to moan and groan about my week day commutes to and from work. So, I could talk about the pouring rain that made my bike ride this morning a mess or the young men with no home training who wouldn’t give their seats up to elderly women on the buss. Instead, I’m going shine a positive light on my blog.
Today, while waiting in the rain for a bus to take me the 15 blocks to the train station I got in a conversation of two other people waiting on the corner with me. One women I see all the time but the young gentlemen was unfamiliar to me. They were talking about the merits of the “old school” bands like Parlimentfunkadelic and Earth Wind & Fire… so you know I was all over it. We talked and talked and finally realized the bus wasn’t coming. I was especially upset because if I miss the 5:25 PAM train I’m stuck in Baltimore until 6:30.
But, out of the kindness of his heart, the young man who’s name I do not know, volunteered to pay for a cab for all of us to get on our way to our final destination. What a nice, unselfish thing to do. I made my train and my faith in mankind was renewed.
I’ve been away from my daily comute for almot two weeks. I was attending the SXSWi conference in Austin, TX. While I was gone a few things happened. Spring arrived, warm temps rolled in and day light savings time went into effect. With the longer day comes a much better commute. I ride out on my bike while it’s light and I ride home in the light. That’s a good thing.
Want to know what didn’t change? Loud ass people on the train. Why must you ruin my peaceful commute home with your loud chatter? Seriously, you are not at home and I don’t want to hear your whole telephone conversation. Now I’d be wrong if I just turn around and look at this chick right in the eyes. Oh, wait, she got on in Baltimore. She may cut me.
Parents please teach your children the art of speaking softly with an inside voice. PLEASE! That is all.
I got a ride to the train station this evening which is always a nice treat. I boarded the train with time to spare, picked my seat right where I always sit… first train, mid-way, on the right. People start to pour in. Then I see him. I look away, ashamed, appalled, disgusted and disgraced by my reaction.
He’s an older White man. His age can’t be determined because the years of living on the street have taken such a toll on him. His clothes, filthy, battered and torn, are covered in blood with stains I’d rather not even try to identify. Sores cover his swollen hands and crooked nose. Bathing has not been a daily ritual for him in a very long while. He seems out of place here and yet his purchased ticket says “I have every right to be here, just like you”.
He’s sound asleep now, just across the isle. It’s probably the best sleep he’s had all day. I’m trying not to judge him but I do wonder what got him here? How did he fall through the cracks? How did our society let him go unserved? Where is he going? If he was not so visibly disheveled would I help him? What’s stopping me from helping him now?
He’s awake now. A nasty cough woke him up and to calm it down he pulled out a fifth of some of the most awful smelling white alcohol I ever inhaled. The women who was sitting in front of him moved away long ago. Was she afraid or ashamed?
I’m not sure how our society is set up for some to succeed and others to fail. I have no idea what opportunities were offered this man. Does he drink to forget his circumstances or does his drinking determine them? Is he mentally ill or is his sickness affecting his mind?
If we are all connected… if we are all one… than I am this man and he is me. He’s talking to himself now, or me, or us. He’s cussing and he has started to draw a great deal of attention. I am afraid now. His mental stability is in question and he has nothing to lose which makes him a threat to us all. I am now reminded… there… before the grace of God… go I.
Maybe it was posted somewhere and I missed it, although with all the time I spend waiting for my train I doubt it, but the morning schedule changed! It’s hard enough to get to Union Station to catch a 7:40 AM MARC train. NOW they changed the time to 7:37 (I’m gonna say without much notice) and my AM rush just got more intense.
It’s only three minutes you may be saying. Well, those three minutes make a big difference in the morning. So much so that I almost missed this train this morning.
As I rushing to my train I looked at board to see it was boarding but it was 9:37 and I had three minutes to catch my commuter. Plenty of time to make it. Then, as I passed through the doors I hear an train maintenance work say “you better hurry up, they’re pulling off”. So here I am running after a train and knocking on the conductors window AS they were pulling out the station. Thirty seconds more and I’d we waiting an hour for the next train. Wait, they changed the schedule, who knows how long I’d be waiting for the next one! Gotta love public transportation.
If I am early the train is late. If I’m even right on time… I can’t board and the train rolls out.
Today, a police woman… not an Amtrack employee, Transportation worker, or Union Station officer… but a female cop… shut the doors in my face and told me “they” weren’t boarding anyone else. Since when did DCPD board anybody?
I guess they are there for my safety but why did the older gentleman of a much lighter skin hue get to go pass those doors “they” weren’t letting anyone enter? Things that make you go… hmmmmm.
The MARC train is a little late leaving Union Station this morning but for once I’m not upset.
When I got to the station I noticed the electronic sign indicating the train was “boarding” but no gate was identified. So, I had to go ask the attractive, Transit guy with the somewhat cranky attitude what gate we were boarding on. It’s always a hit or miss talking to this man. Sometimes he’s really upbeat and funny… other times he’s as hard as nails… and just as unyielding (as I guess we all can be at times). Anyway, I approached him with caution and asked what track I should be boarding on. He answered in a “I’m tired of answering this question” kinda way but said “track 14″. Then he throws in “would you mind guiding Carl to the train?”. Carl is a blind gentleman I see from time to time on my train rides. “Of course I will”, I reply. Cranky Transit guy throws in a compliment of some sort and Carl and I take off for train 459.
Lately I’ve been noticing a lot of sight impaired individuals traveling on the train. I’m in awe of how independent they are and how fearless they have become. I’m also reflective about my own abilities I wonder how strong I am? I wonder how strong I can be?
Today I am reminded of my many blessings, such as the gift of sight, and how much I have to be grateful for. So, if we are a little late or even a lot late this morning, it’s OK. I’m happy this morning because I have no reason not to be! I am also so very grateful because I have so many reason to be.
So, I wake up early today. I beat my alarm. I’m determined to not rush around this morning. I check out Twitter, as I often do in the AM. I saw this tweet from my Twitter gal pal “@SoSoulfull: Morning beautiful tweeple. Watching news apparently there’s a ‘terror’ warning being issued 4 trains”.
I couldn’t find anything on the news about it but oddly enough my 7:40 AM train is late. Of course it is. I’m early so the train is late. Then I thought… ‘ya know what… do whatcha gotta do… BECAUSE… if they EVEN think someone is about to bomb Union Station I want the Homeland Security folks to take their time, check it all out BEFORE I board the train.
It’s 7:45 and NOW they are saying the train will not board because they have “mechanical problems”. I feel sorry for the folks trying to catch a flight to BWI but dang… I could have slept in and caught the 8:30 train!
Meanwhile, we wait at Gate B. It’s a nice little area that I tired to relax in one morning when I once again arrived early. There is a cranky Amtrack guy who is in charge of communicating to the passengers train delays, gate changes, and coordinating alternative train options. He’s an attractive, bald headed, brother with a difficult job and a disposition to match who once told me in no uncertain terms, “this is NOT a holding area”.
Well, here I wait… at Gate B… holding… watching folks get off a train that is supposedly not working properly. You can tell by the looks on the passengers faces they are not happy and they, like I, will be late for work this morning. I wonder how long they have been waiting on that train?
8:00 AM… we are making progress. We’re on the train but we are not moving. It’s going to be a mess once we get to our final destination. I hope it’s all worked out by the time I make my trip back home. Just a typical day on my commute to work.
Someone please tell me WHY it is must be 30 degrees on the MARC train this AM? When it’s hot outside we often don’t have air conditioning. Now that it is turning cool… the air conditioning is on full blast and I feel like I’m inside of a refrigerator! Oh, and another thing… we NEVER leave Union Station on time. I mean NEVER. So, why is it that if I arrive at mu gate at 7:37 for a 7:40 they have taken the track information down? Oh, and don’t ask anyone in the train track area which MARC train is the 7:40! They work there everyday and see each train coming & going but nooooooooo they have no idea what track the 7:40 AM MARC train is on. Really? What the hell are you all doing all day sitting in your little carts with your hard hats on anyway? Come on… we all know that train isn’t pulling out of the station before 7:45. Tell me which track it’s on so I can get to work! Meanwhile, someone get me a blanket. It’s cold as a witches tit up in this camp!!! Bbbrrrrrr
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