I am a commuter and I'm doing my part to preserve our dear planet for generations to come. To my sister, I say, "You're welcome!" since she and her husband have done a fine job of adding to the populace. I kind of like my nieces and nephews, so it is only right that I do my part.
Public transportation is an interesting thing. For the price of fare (dependent on age), anyone can enter a coach, trolley, tram, or cable car and be moved from one point to another. For me, I walk down the street to the corner of California St. and Fillmore to catch the 1 California express bus to downtown. Once there I jump off of the bus and walk to the stairs leading down to the BART. Then, depending on whether the Richmond or the Pittsburgh/Bay Point train arrives, I go under the San Francisco bay. I have to turn the volume of my iPod up in order to hear the NPR Shuffle podcast I download everyday.
My first couple of days, I left my house at 7:30 am and that seems to be the time when more people arrive at the corner. It's not a bad thing, but at 7:2o, I can get a seat, which makes the lurches and jolts of crossing the city more tolerable. I am amazed at the different people who use the bus. People in thousand dollar suits brush against the homeless Santa guy who smells like he washes in his own urine. And yet, with a few exception, people tolerate each other and refrain from saying anything to disrupt the morning routine. I haven't figured it out, since I've been on MUNI busses at different times and it is not always so courteous. People are polite and accepting ... we have a common goal of getting downtown to our jobs, whatever they may be.
I have a friend who is still a teacher. She rails on our society of MP3 players. Life to one's personal soundtrack is like living in a cocoon. Isolated. Solitary. I'm not sure I agree. With the barrage of people pushing and brushing against me, the sounds of NPR or a song add a surreal touch to this gathering of unlikely souls in a single moment of time. Plus, it's like watching a film where, as an audience member, you can participate vicariously. I've learned more about women who have done wrong by their men in one week, than I care to mention. Should she call back? Why didn't she see that the rocker wasn't stable? Or that the guy was just too old ... I mean, like he was almost 45! And while I may sound judgemental, I think I'm tolerant and according to Wikipedia "Tolerance implies both the ability to punish and the conscious decision not to, but makes no statement to higher principle." Hmm, I don't feel compelled to chastise the women for having conversations of the personal nature in public ... I just turn up the volume a little bit and the conversation about baldy and his erectile dysfunction go away, almost. And that, my friends is my first life lesson from MUNI.
