I switched it up a bit today. You'll never guess what I did. That's right. I took the 10 to work. I was getting bored with walking to the 12, and though I took the 9 and the 12 with plenty of time to get to work by 8:30, I worried too much about being late for it to be worth my while. So this morning, instead of walking out to Washington, I decided to ride up Western and cut across Brevator to the State Campus.
It started out as a great plan, putting me in the vicinity of my building with both plenty of time to get there, and still allow me to get in about twenty minutes of walking, which I'm beginning to really enjoy.
Just as I was realizing how much I enjoyed walking, though, one of my coworkers saw me, pulled up, and offered me a ride. Partly because I don't know her that well and didn't want to offend her, and partly because I really wanted to get out of work earlier to walk to class, I accepted.
As I got in the car, I told her, "You know, this is cheating. I'm doing an experiment about riding public transportation."
She said, "Well, think of this as a cab." Secretly, I loved that she never asked why walking wasn't cheating, too.
So this morning I took one bus and one "cab," got to work fifteen minutes earlier, and then yes, walked from work to school, which took about an hour (with a five minutes stop for coffee at Mobil, which is kind of ironic when you really think about it).
I'm assessing this experiment as I go along. I really want public transportation to be more efficient than walking, though I know it'll never be as efficient as using my own car. Depending on when I catch the bus after I leave work, though, it takes anywhere from thirty to forty minutes to get there. I guess I don't really mind the extra half-hour or so of walking if I skip the bus altogether. It's better for my body, and better for the environment. I'm still weighing those benefits against time and money. I think I'm coming to the conclusion that the "best way" to get around really comes down to more than dollars. While I can predict where that leaves me, I can't predict where that leaves the real or imagined future comeback of public transit. Perhaps that's why, now, so much emphasis is being placed on fuel-efficient cars and not limiting current fuel usage. I don't think most people are up for making those kinds of lifestyle changes; and I think policymakers, scientists, and technology experts know it.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Sunday, November 25, 2007
THE 55
I got embarrassed after the driver on the 13 said my student ID was only good on the 9, 10, 11, or 12. I offered to pay, but he said he'd let me go "this time." I felt like I was in a horrific childhood memory all over again.
1990. I climb on the school bus after running down the dirt driveway not to miss it; all the kids are in their seats, staring at me. I'm a foot taller than all of them and weigh as much as most of their male teachers. I'm wearing a Walkman under my hooded sweatshirt even though the bus driver warns me once a week it's not allowed. I look out from under my hair, trying desperately to find another social outcast who might share a seat. The door closes behind me and begins to roll down the hill. I'm halfway down the aisle, tripping over sneakers and smacking kids in the head with my book bag when I hear the air brakes screech and the door open again. The bus driver calls back to me. I think, "She saw my headphones." I pull my hair over the cords and turn around. Outside the flimsy sliding window, I see my mother running down the driveway in a cloud of dust in matted slippers and a threadbare flannel nightgown. She's calling, "You forgot your book." I panic. Her hair is huge. I breathe hard, fast breaths. I whip my head up. I blurt to the driver, "Keep going. I don't need it."
Granted, getting on the 13 Saturday wasn't quite that dramatic. It's just that I'd read SUNY students "ride for free," but never looked up the details. After I saw a few people do it successfully, I decided to start ID-flashing, too. It worked on the 11, so I tried again for the 13. You know the rest of the story.
Really, even though I knew I could ride for free, I had been paying until Friday, when I had two bucks left in my wallet, and I really, really wanted to grab a cup of coffee at the Muddy Cup for the rest of the walk home. If it weren't for my caffeine addiction, I'd have a lot more integrity. Of course the purpose of offering rides to students is that most of them don't have jobs, or well-paying jobs, and many of them don't have cars. Of course I was taking advantage, at thirty years old, having both decent employment and a reliable car, but having my student ID on me, and desperately needing that hot cup of fulfillment, I broke down and used the system. I suppose I had it coming to me. The dressing down on Number 13.
In any case, I took it downtown to grab the 55 at Washington and Lark. I promised my mom I'd take her to BJ's Warehouse for her birthday (we know how to party), and I promised my grandmother I'd stop at her house so we could all go together. I welcomed the opportunity to take another bus as I felt like my 9 through 12 adventures were biased toward students and state workers.
While I was waiting for the bus, a woman came up and asked, "'Scuse me miss. Would you happen to know what the date is?" I wanted to fill time and say, "Why, my dear, it's Christmas Day," but that was just because I also could not promptly recall the date. I thought for a second. "Uh. the 24th. November 24th."
She nodded, "Uh-huh. But you know what the day is?"
I thought again. "Oh! Saturday!"
She touched my arm lightly and laughed heartily, and I wanted to know what the joke was, and she said, "Ha-haa. I work Fridays." She shook her head from side to side, and crossed the street, the traffic light changing in perfect synchronicity with the punchline. I smiled after her. I could still feel where her hand had touched my arm.
A few other people waited inside the shelter. As long as it's not raining or icing, I tend to like being outside, so I stood there and tried to look preoccupied with my cell phone.
When the bus came, I took a seat halfway down the aisle and watched the rest of the riders get on the bus. A kid got on, maybe thirteen or fourteen years old, and a woman stood in the doorway talking to the driver behind him, "Can you show him?...Yeah, can you show him? He doesn't understand where to get off." The driver nodded. She held up a gloved hand and thanked him.
A woman in a knitted pink hat settled in one of the bench seats up front. She was an elderly woman, smiling innocently like the every minute of every day held a new surprise. Shortly after her, a hunched man with a rosy face started to shuffle down the aisle. The woman in the pink hat watched and called after him. "Hello, sir. How are you?"
He turned and answered her kindly, "I'm fine, thank you," and continued to an empty seat on the left.
Perhaps I was expecting her to stare blankly at him while he stared blankly past her on his way to an empty seat. Somehow their formal, pleasant exchange baffled me. So far I'd ridden on the bus with any number of people of all ages and appearances, but I hadn't yet witnessed such politeness, especially among people who appeared to have lived so hard in younger years.
I've grown snobby in my adulthood. True, I haven't quit smoking yet and I've been known to have one too many glasses of wine on one too many occasions, and my body will no doubt begin showing the signs of wear and tear before I'm ready to let it; but I still have biases about the way people look. If they look worn and possibly mentally deficient, I don't expect them to enunciate and say "sir;" and if they look alcoholic, I don't expect them to say "I'm fine" and "thank you" in response to an ordinary pleasantry. I don't like that I have those biases, and I actually liked the three-second exchange that challenged to me to think differently. That, and it reminded me of family members long since past, who lived hard, too, but spoke eloquently, wrote beautifully, read and painted, and loved with the very same fervor that they used to abuse their own bodies. In a weird way, in a scary way, I felt like I was home.
It was like "The Ice Man Cometh [on the 55]." Or "The Wayward Bus [out of Albany]." There was a man on the bench with wild unkempt hair and thick-rimmed glasses. His clothes really were unraveling at the seams, with strings dangling above the tops of his shoes, and he was loosely holding two plastic bags between his knees. The lines on his face were deep. Lots of character. He reminded me of Kurt Vonnegut, only less well-kept.
He didn't stay on the bus long. He got off at Westgate and my attention turned to another man in camouflage, bald-headed, and rocking back and forth in his seat. He didn't look purposefully bald. I wanted to know what his deal was.
The rest of the ride was ordinary. I appreciated those people comfortable enough to listen to headphones or sleep against the window. As of yet, I haven't taken a trip long enough, or gained enough confidence to know that I'm not going to miss my stop as soon as I turn my attention away, or doze off halfway between Schenectady and Albany. Guess there's still time, though. There's still the whole month of December.
1990. I climb on the school bus after running down the dirt driveway not to miss it; all the kids are in their seats, staring at me. I'm a foot taller than all of them and weigh as much as most of their male teachers. I'm wearing a Walkman under my hooded sweatshirt even though the bus driver warns me once a week it's not allowed. I look out from under my hair, trying desperately to find another social outcast who might share a seat. The door closes behind me and begins to roll down the hill. I'm halfway down the aisle, tripping over sneakers and smacking kids in the head with my book bag when I hear the air brakes screech and the door open again. The bus driver calls back to me. I think, "She saw my headphones." I pull my hair over the cords and turn around. Outside the flimsy sliding window, I see my mother running down the driveway in a cloud of dust in matted slippers and a threadbare flannel nightgown. She's calling, "You forgot your book." I panic. Her hair is huge. I breathe hard, fast breaths. I whip my head up. I blurt to the driver, "Keep going. I don't need it."
Granted, getting on the 13 Saturday wasn't quite that dramatic. It's just that I'd read SUNY students "ride for free," but never looked up the details. After I saw a few people do it successfully, I decided to start ID-flashing, too. It worked on the 11, so I tried again for the 13. You know the rest of the story.
Really, even though I knew I could ride for free, I had been paying until Friday, when I had two bucks left in my wallet, and I really, really wanted to grab a cup of coffee at the Muddy Cup for the rest of the walk home. If it weren't for my caffeine addiction, I'd have a lot more integrity. Of course the purpose of offering rides to students is that most of them don't have jobs, or well-paying jobs, and many of them don't have cars. Of course I was taking advantage, at thirty years old, having both decent employment and a reliable car, but having my student ID on me, and desperately needing that hot cup of fulfillment, I broke down and used the system. I suppose I had it coming to me. The dressing down on Number 13.
In any case, I took it downtown to grab the 55 at Washington and Lark. I promised my mom I'd take her to BJ's Warehouse for her birthday (we know how to party), and I promised my grandmother I'd stop at her house so we could all go together. I welcomed the opportunity to take another bus as I felt like my 9 through 12 adventures were biased toward students and state workers.
While I was waiting for the bus, a woman came up and asked, "'Scuse me miss. Would you happen to know what the date is?" I wanted to fill time and say, "Why, my dear, it's Christmas Day," but that was just because I also could not promptly recall the date. I thought for a second. "Uh. the 24th. November 24th."
She nodded, "Uh-huh. But you know what the day is?"
I thought again. "Oh! Saturday!"
She touched my arm lightly and laughed heartily, and I wanted to know what the joke was, and she said, "Ha-haa. I work Fridays." She shook her head from side to side, and crossed the street, the traffic light changing in perfect synchronicity with the punchline. I smiled after her. I could still feel where her hand had touched my arm.
A few other people waited inside the shelter. As long as it's not raining or icing, I tend to like being outside, so I stood there and tried to look preoccupied with my cell phone.
When the bus came, I took a seat halfway down the aisle and watched the rest of the riders get on the bus. A kid got on, maybe thirteen or fourteen years old, and a woman stood in the doorway talking to the driver behind him, "Can you show him?...Yeah, can you show him? He doesn't understand where to get off." The driver nodded. She held up a gloved hand and thanked him.
A woman in a knitted pink hat settled in one of the bench seats up front. She was an elderly woman, smiling innocently like the every minute of every day held a new surprise. Shortly after her, a hunched man with a rosy face started to shuffle down the aisle. The woman in the pink hat watched and called after him. "Hello, sir. How are you?"
He turned and answered her kindly, "I'm fine, thank you," and continued to an empty seat on the left.
Perhaps I was expecting her to stare blankly at him while he stared blankly past her on his way to an empty seat. Somehow their formal, pleasant exchange baffled me. So far I'd ridden on the bus with any number of people of all ages and appearances, but I hadn't yet witnessed such politeness, especially among people who appeared to have lived so hard in younger years.
I've grown snobby in my adulthood. True, I haven't quit smoking yet and I've been known to have one too many glasses of wine on one too many occasions, and my body will no doubt begin showing the signs of wear and tear before I'm ready to let it; but I still have biases about the way people look. If they look worn and possibly mentally deficient, I don't expect them to enunciate and say "sir;" and if they look alcoholic, I don't expect them to say "I'm fine" and "thank you" in response to an ordinary pleasantry. I don't like that I have those biases, and I actually liked the three-second exchange that challenged to me to think differently. That, and it reminded me of family members long since past, who lived hard, too, but spoke eloquently, wrote beautifully, read and painted, and loved with the very same fervor that they used to abuse their own bodies. In a weird way, in a scary way, I felt like I was home.
It was like "The Ice Man Cometh [on the 55]." Or "The Wayward Bus [out of Albany]." There was a man on the bench with wild unkempt hair and thick-rimmed glasses. His clothes really were unraveling at the seams, with strings dangling above the tops of his shoes, and he was loosely holding two plastic bags between his knees. The lines on his face were deep. Lots of character. He reminded me of Kurt Vonnegut, only less well-kept.
He didn't stay on the bus long. He got off at Westgate and my attention turned to another man in camouflage, bald-headed, and rocking back and forth in his seat. He didn't look purposefully bald. I wanted to know what his deal was.
The rest of the ride was ordinary. I appreciated those people comfortable enough to listen to headphones or sleep against the window. As of yet, I haven't taken a trip long enough, or gained enough confidence to know that I'm not going to miss my stop as soon as I turn my attention away, or doze off halfway between Schenectady and Albany. Guess there's still time, though. There's still the whole month of December.
SMALL SACRIFICES ARE STILL SACRIFICES
I took the 13 downtown to Washington and Lark yesterday, where I picked up the 55 to go to Colonie. At first, I thought I'd have to walk all the way to Central and Allen to grab it, but my brilliant roommate said, "There's always a 13 running. I used to take that all the way down to Lark and get the 55 there." I felt stupid for not having thought of it earlier. Not being well acquainted with the many ways to get around town by bus, it never occurred to me to go in the opposite direction to get to my destination.
It's yet one more difference between having a car and riding a bus. Driving a car allows me to pick my own route, and in most instances, is probably more efficient. It's certainly more intuitive, and if intuition leads to easier decision-making, it provides at least one more answer to the question, "Why do so many people think using public transportation is inconvenient?"
I'll be honest. I haven't yet calculated cost versus mileage for either my car or the bus yet. While I'm still working on the same $10 of gas I put in my car on 11/9/07, and I've spent at least that much in bus fares (my swiper isn't effective until December 1), I'm predicting that it's going to be about equal per mile. For the amount of miles I'm actually on the bus, as I take mainly short trips, I'm not entirely sure "a buck a ride" is much cheaper than $3.35 per tank of of gas, especially since I go fewer places without my car. To get the most for a dollar in any one direction, I need to take longer trips. Maybe riding the 55 into Colonie from downtown Albany was cheaper than taking my car, but on most days when I ride the 12 four or five blocks, and I'm on the bus no more than five minutes, I'm not sure how much money it actually saves. I could walk the distance for free.
Committing to using public transportation as my primary source of transportation will mean changing my lifestyle. Even if the changes are positive, it will require sacrificing time and convenience. I may willing to do it, but I'm only one out of hundreds of thousands locally (The U.S. Census Bureau reports the population for Albany-Schenectady-Troy was 875,000 in 2003). If public transit providers wanted the industry to make a comeback, they would have to redesign their services to make the transition more seamless.
To be fair, looking back at numbers of commuters from 1985-2001, there weren't many transit riders to begin with. When people have access to cars, they drive them. It may not even be significantly better for the environment to share rides, as they would on a public transit system or through car-pooling, but it's hard to pin down those numbers. For public transportation to work as an environmental solution, it obviously cannot be the only one, though I don't think most people would attempt to argue that it should be.
Public transportation boasts greater success as a tool for mobility for those individuals that don't have, can't drive, or can't afford cars, like the elderly, the poor, and the disabled. In addition to providing mobility for people who would otherwise be challenged to get around, public transportation is useful in reducing traffic congestion, especially in highly urbanized areas. As a means for the average middle- and upper-class American to travel, however, it probably can't compete with the car, which affords a much greater sense of freedom and convenience.
Sources:
U.S. Census Bureau, American Community Survey
http://www.census.gov/acs/www/Products/Profiles/Single/2003/ACS/Narrative/380/NP38000US0160.htm
Table 1-35: Principal Means of Transportation to Work. U.S. Department of Transportation Research and Innovative Technology Administration.
http://www.bts.gov/publications/national_transportation_statistics/2002/html/table_01_35.html
It's yet one more difference between having a car and riding a bus. Driving a car allows me to pick my own route, and in most instances, is probably more efficient. It's certainly more intuitive, and if intuition leads to easier decision-making, it provides at least one more answer to the question, "Why do so many people think using public transportation is inconvenient?"
I'll be honest. I haven't yet calculated cost versus mileage for either my car or the bus yet. While I'm still working on the same $10 of gas I put in my car on 11/9/07, and I've spent at least that much in bus fares (my swiper isn't effective until December 1), I'm predicting that it's going to be about equal per mile. For the amount of miles I'm actually on the bus, as I take mainly short trips, I'm not entirely sure "a buck a ride" is much cheaper than $3.35 per tank of of gas, especially since I go fewer places without my car. To get the most for a dollar in any one direction, I need to take longer trips. Maybe riding the 55 into Colonie from downtown Albany was cheaper than taking my car, but on most days when I ride the 12 four or five blocks, and I'm on the bus no more than five minutes, I'm not sure how much money it actually saves. I could walk the distance for free.
Committing to using public transportation as my primary source of transportation will mean changing my lifestyle. Even if the changes are positive, it will require sacrificing time and convenience. I may willing to do it, but I'm only one out of hundreds of thousands locally (The U.S. Census Bureau reports the population for Albany-Schenectady-Troy was 875,000 in 2003). If public transit providers wanted the industry to make a comeback, they would have to redesign their services to make the transition more seamless.
To be fair, looking back at numbers of commuters from 1985-2001, there weren't many transit riders to begin with. When people have access to cars, they drive them. It may not even be significantly better for the environment to share rides, as they would on a public transit system or through car-pooling, but it's hard to pin down those numbers. For public transportation to work as an environmental solution, it obviously cannot be the only one, though I don't think most people would attempt to argue that it should be.
Public transportation boasts greater success as a tool for mobility for those individuals that don't have, can't drive, or can't afford cars, like the elderly, the poor, and the disabled. In addition to providing mobility for people who would otherwise be challenged to get around, public transportation is useful in reducing traffic congestion, especially in highly urbanized areas. As a means for the average middle- and upper-class American to travel, however, it probably can't compete with the car, which affords a much greater sense of freedom and convenience.
Sources:
U.S. Census Bureau, American Community Survey
http://www.census.gov/acs/www/Products/Profiles/Single/2003/ACS/Narrative/380/NP38000US0160.htm
Table 1-35: Principal Means of Transportation to Work. U.S. Department of Transportation Research and Innovative Technology Administration.
http://www.bts.gov/publications/national_transportation_statistics/2002/html/table_01_35.html
Friday, November 23, 2007
THE CHANGING FACE OF TRANSPORTATION, AS PREDICTED IN 2000
The U.S. Department of Transportation issued a report called The Changing Face of Transportation in 2000.
It recapped twenty-five years of changes in transportation, citing the Clean Air of 1970 as the kick-off of vehicle emissions standards and local plans for meeting national ambient air quality standards, and designated the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) as the administrator of those plans. Further, the report stated that public research efforts after 1973 focused on alternative fuel technologies, though later in the report, it claimed that as long as oil remained cheap, there would remain only modest consumer demand for fuel-efficient vehicles (Changing Face of Transportation) .
Railroads were facing declining ridership in the 1970's, and many went bankrupt. Amtrak was created in 1970 as part of the divestiture process (in which a company sells or part of its assets through sale, exchange, closure or bankruptcy; Investopedia); Conrail was created from a network of bankrupt Eastern and Midwestern railroads. The maritime industry was also sinking further into decline. (Changing Face of Transportation)
According to the report, economic deregulation in aviation, trucking, inter-city buses, railroads, and the ocean shipping industry was the "centerpiece" of transportation policy from about 1975 to 2000. The subsequent increased competition allowed performance rates, fares, and quality of service to improve across all major transportation industries. Consequently, the report claimed that "Growth brought about by deregulation has produced unprecedented levels of mobility and contributed to the enormous economic prosperity of the last decade [the 90's]." Between 1975-2000, both passenger miles and economic production doubled. (Changing Face of Transportation)
While cheaper oil may have prevented increased demand for alternative fuels and more fuel-efficient cars, the 1970's energy crisis and increased competition with foreign automobile makers provided a catalyst for the automobile industry to begin redesigning their cars for fuel efficiency. Thus, the report stated that most measures of air pollution and emissions actually declined over the twenty-five years preceding its publication, even though energy use actually increased. (Changing Face of Transportation)
Despite huge increases in passenger miles, and the number of licenses and registrations issued, transit ridership grew from 7.4 billion passenger trips in 1993 to 9 billion in 1999, the highest level since 1964. (Changing Face of Transportation)
Several reasons were given for changes in the twenty-five years preceding the report, including: Democratization of Mobility, meaning "everyone can travel;" Aging of the Population, which will change travel patterns over time as more cars hit the road during off-peak hours; Changing Immigration, which may initially increase transit in metropolitan suburbs; Growing Affluence, which tends to increase auto availability, trips per household, and trip length; and Dispersal Technologies, which connect formerly remote areas to larger travel networks. Furthermore, the factors affecting change prior to the report were predicted to continue to play an important role in the scope of transportation and transit services. (Changing Face of Transportation)
Both The Changing Face of Transportation and multiple other sources pointed out technology's significant effect on future changes in transportation. For instance, "By 2025, travelers will have widespread, real-time access - any time, any place - to information of all types, such as transportation, availability, geographic location, and operating conditions over various segments of a trip" (Changing Face of Transportation). Consistent with the prediction, many transit websites now offer schedules formatted for mobile and hand-held devices, as well as customized RSS-feeds, e-mail, and text message alerts (1-Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority; 2-Ivan Berger, "Warnings a Little More Useful than 'Congestion Ahead,'" New York Times; 3-CommuterPage.com).
As most people prefer driving to transit, especially in less urban areas, technological improvements aimed at making public transportation more convenient might be a step in the right direction. In fact, in a June 2006 hearing before the Subcommittee on Highways, Transit, and Pipelines (of the House of Representatives' Committee on Transportation and Infrastructure), Richard Capka, Administrator of the U.S. Department of Transportation Federal Highway Administration, said he was "really excited about the intelligent transportation system advancements that have been made over the years, but even more so very recently. What we are seeing in terms of 5-1-1 type communications with drivers, is an ability to call up and kind of plot your course based upon the existing conditions of the day" (Highways, Transit, and Pipelines June 2006 hearing).
5-1-1 is a free service in which callers can receive free traffic information from their cell or land-line phones (http://www.fhwa.dot.gov/).
While demographic shifts and technological advances will change the way people travel, the modes with which they travel will remain the same. The report suggested that high-speed, rail based ground travel would likely grow, citing Amtrak's new Northeast Corridor high speed train service called Acela, and the arrival of MagLev ("magnetic levitation") technology, which "in the next 25 years will present intercity travel times rivaling those of air travel" (Changing Face of Transportation).
At the time The Changing Face of Transportation was written, the Clinton-Gore Adinistration's Livable Communities Initiative saw transit as a way to reduce traffic congestion and air pollution, as well as the negative effects of urban sprawl, enhancing quality of life. Thus, in 1997, Bill Clinton signed the Amtrak Reform and Accountability Act, authorizing $2.3 billion in payments to make capital improvements to the rail system. Amtrak would use the funds to restructure service in the Northeast Corridor with the new Acela Express, join with states outside the Northeast corridor to provide high-speed rail development, re-emphasize customer service by offering service guarantees, and extend its franchise to other businesses such as mail delivery. The Act's goals were to reduce airport and highway congestion, improve productivity and safety, and increase rail ridership by connecting commuter rail and urban transportation systems (Changing Face of Transportation)
Thus, in 2000, the U.S. Department of Transportation predicted that population and economic growth would lead to more highway and air traffic congestion, and saw new technology and high-speed rail as important resources in reducing the negative effects of congestion.
Six years later, under a vastly different administration, Richard Capka reiterated the same themes. He said, "In many respects, our transportation system has become a victim of its own success. Our growing economy and standard of living have created a demand for travel and movement of goods that is increasingly more difficult to meet. Congestion is not an insurmountable problem, but we must embrace new solutions in order to make meaningful progress in reducing congestion." In addition to using technology more efficiently, Capka suggested privatizing construction and operation of transportation infrastructure, and focusing resources on improving the existing infrastructure instead building new roads (Highways, Transit, and Pipelines June 2006 hearing).
Clearly, the "face" of transportation is dynamic. Not only did it change dramatically during the last twenty-five years of the twentieth century, but with the advent of new technology and steady changes in population growth, it will continue to change. One of the challenges meeting government today is how best to manage those changes without sacrificing economic growth or environmental well-being.
Sources:
"5-5-1,” U.S. Department of Transportation Federal Highway Administration, http://www.fhwa.dot.gov/trafficinfo/511.htm
Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority, http://www.mbta.com/rider_tools/mobile_t/
CommuterPage.com, http://www.commuterpage.com/area_alerts.htm
"Divestiture," Investopedia.com, http://www.investopedia.com/terms/d/divestiture.asp
Hearing before the Subcommittee on Highways, Transit, and Pipelines of the Committee on Transportation and Infrastructure of the House of Representatives. June 26, 2006.
http://frwebgate.access.gpo.gov/cgi-bin/getdoc.cgi?dbname=109_house_hearings&docid=f:30655.pdf
Ivan Berger, "Warnings a Little More Useful than 'Congestion Ahead.'" New York Times. October 26, 2005. http://www.nytimes.com/2005/10/26/automobiles/autospecial/26berger.html
U.S. Department of Transportation Bureau of Transportation Statistics. The Changing Face of Transportation. BTS007-007. Washington, D.C.: 2000.
It recapped twenty-five years of changes in transportation, citing the Clean Air of 1970 as the kick-off of vehicle emissions standards and local plans for meeting national ambient air quality standards, and designated the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) as the administrator of those plans. Further, the report stated that public research efforts after 1973 focused on alternative fuel technologies, though later in the report, it claimed that as long as oil remained cheap, there would remain only modest consumer demand for fuel-efficient vehicles (Changing Face of Transportation) .
Railroads were facing declining ridership in the 1970's, and many went bankrupt. Amtrak was created in 1970 as part of the divestiture process (in which a company sells or part of its assets through sale, exchange, closure or bankruptcy; Investopedia); Conrail was created from a network of bankrupt Eastern and Midwestern railroads. The maritime industry was also sinking further into decline. (Changing Face of Transportation)
According to the report, economic deregulation in aviation, trucking, inter-city buses, railroads, and the ocean shipping industry was the "centerpiece" of transportation policy from about 1975 to 2000. The subsequent increased competition allowed performance rates, fares, and quality of service to improve across all major transportation industries. Consequently, the report claimed that "Growth brought about by deregulation has produced unprecedented levels of mobility and contributed to the enormous economic prosperity of the last decade [the 90's]." Between 1975-2000, both passenger miles and economic production doubled. (Changing Face of Transportation)
While cheaper oil may have prevented increased demand for alternative fuels and more fuel-efficient cars, the 1970's energy crisis and increased competition with foreign automobile makers provided a catalyst for the automobile industry to begin redesigning their cars for fuel efficiency. Thus, the report stated that most measures of air pollution and emissions actually declined over the twenty-five years preceding its publication, even though energy use actually increased. (Changing Face of Transportation)
Despite huge increases in passenger miles, and the number of licenses and registrations issued, transit ridership grew from 7.4 billion passenger trips in 1993 to 9 billion in 1999, the highest level since 1964. (Changing Face of Transportation)
Several reasons were given for changes in the twenty-five years preceding the report, including: Democratization of Mobility, meaning "everyone can travel;" Aging of the Population, which will change travel patterns over time as more cars hit the road during off-peak hours; Changing Immigration, which may initially increase transit in metropolitan suburbs; Growing Affluence, which tends to increase auto availability, trips per household, and trip length; and Dispersal Technologies, which connect formerly remote areas to larger travel networks. Furthermore, the factors affecting change prior to the report were predicted to continue to play an important role in the scope of transportation and transit services. (Changing Face of Transportation)
Both The Changing Face of Transportation and multiple other sources pointed out technology's significant effect on future changes in transportation. For instance, "By 2025, travelers will have widespread, real-time access - any time, any place - to information of all types, such as transportation, availability, geographic location, and operating conditions over various segments of a trip" (Changing Face of Transportation). Consistent with the prediction, many transit websites now offer schedules formatted for mobile and hand-held devices, as well as customized RSS-feeds, e-mail, and text message alerts (1-Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority; 2-Ivan Berger, "Warnings a Little More Useful than 'Congestion Ahead,'" New York Times; 3-CommuterPage.com).
As most people prefer driving to transit, especially in less urban areas, technological improvements aimed at making public transportation more convenient might be a step in the right direction. In fact, in a June 2006 hearing before the Subcommittee on Highways, Transit, and Pipelines (of the House of Representatives' Committee on Transportation and Infrastructure), Richard Capka, Administrator of the U.S. Department of Transportation Federal Highway Administration, said he was "really excited about the intelligent transportation system advancements that have been made over the years, but even more so very recently. What we are seeing in terms of 5-1-1 type communications with drivers, is an ability to call up and kind of plot your course based upon the existing conditions of the day" (Highways, Transit, and Pipelines June 2006 hearing).
5-1-1 is a free service in which callers can receive free traffic information from their cell or land-line phones (http://www.fhwa.dot.gov/).
While demographic shifts and technological advances will change the way people travel, the modes with which they travel will remain the same. The report suggested that high-speed, rail based ground travel would likely grow, citing Amtrak's new Northeast Corridor high speed train service called Acela, and the arrival of MagLev ("magnetic levitation") technology, which "in the next 25 years will present intercity travel times rivaling those of air travel" (Changing Face of Transportation).
At the time The Changing Face of Transportation was written, the Clinton-Gore Adinistration's Livable Communities Initiative saw transit as a way to reduce traffic congestion and air pollution, as well as the negative effects of urban sprawl, enhancing quality of life. Thus, in 1997, Bill Clinton signed the Amtrak Reform and Accountability Act, authorizing $2.3 billion in payments to make capital improvements to the rail system. Amtrak would use the funds to restructure service in the Northeast Corridor with the new Acela Express, join with states outside the Northeast corridor to provide high-speed rail development, re-emphasize customer service by offering service guarantees, and extend its franchise to other businesses such as mail delivery. The Act's goals were to reduce airport and highway congestion, improve productivity and safety, and increase rail ridership by connecting commuter rail and urban transportation systems (Changing Face of Transportation)
Thus, in 2000, the U.S. Department of Transportation predicted that population and economic growth would lead to more highway and air traffic congestion, and saw new technology and high-speed rail as important resources in reducing the negative effects of congestion.
Six years later, under a vastly different administration, Richard Capka reiterated the same themes. He said, "In many respects, our transportation system has become a victim of its own success. Our growing economy and standard of living have created a demand for travel and movement of goods that is increasingly more difficult to meet. Congestion is not an insurmountable problem, but we must embrace new solutions in order to make meaningful progress in reducing congestion." In addition to using technology more efficiently, Capka suggested privatizing construction and operation of transportation infrastructure, and focusing resources on improving the existing infrastructure instead building new roads (Highways, Transit, and Pipelines June 2006 hearing).
Clearly, the "face" of transportation is dynamic. Not only did it change dramatically during the last twenty-five years of the twentieth century, but with the advent of new technology and steady changes in population growth, it will continue to change. One of the challenges meeting government today is how best to manage those changes without sacrificing economic growth or environmental well-being.
Sources:
"5-5-1,” U.S. Department of Transportation Federal Highway Administration, http://www.fhwa.dot.gov/trafficinfo/511.htm
Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority, http://www.mbta.com/rider_tools/mobile_t/
CommuterPage.com, http://www.commuterpage.com/area_alerts.htm
"Divestiture," Investopedia.com, http://www.investopedia.com/terms/d/divestiture.asp
Hearing before the Subcommittee on Highways, Transit, and Pipelines of the Committee on Transportation and Infrastructure of the House of Representatives. June 26, 2006.
http://frwebgate.access.gpo.gov/cgi-bin/getdoc.cgi?dbname=109_house_hearings&docid=f:30655.pdf
Ivan Berger, "Warnings a Little More Useful than 'Congestion Ahead.'" New York Times. October 26, 2005. http://www.nytimes.com/2005/10/26/automobiles/autospecial/26berger.html
U.S. Department of Transportation Bureau of Transportation Statistics. The Changing Face of Transportation. BTS007-007. Washington, D.C.: 2000.
Monday, November 19, 2007
WASHINGTON AND LARK: THE CENTER OF THE BUS-RIDING WORLD
I did it. I got the Number 9 today. The non-Albany High School Number 9. I thought it would take me straight out to Washington, but it actually went in the opposite direction down Western and I got off at Washington and Lark. It wasn't so much that I was worried I wouldn't catch a bus, as just about every downtown Albany schedule stops at Washington and Lark; I was worried I wouldn't catch a bus that would get me to work on time since I spent the first ten minutes of the trip going in completely the wrong direction.
On the plus side, I saw many familiar faces, including a pre-teen I met this summer at Grease with Eric. He took all Eric's gum, talked to anyone who looked his way, and then jumped on stage at Playhouse to do the Running Man before security chased him off. He was a fun kid. Blond headed, blue-eyed, highly vocal, and full of trouble.
I admit, though, I tried not to look at him this morning. I knew he'd talk to me, and I had more pressing matters like: where am I supposed to get off the bus? When's the next 12 coming along? Am I stepping on my pant-leg? He's the only ten year old kid I ever avoided, and now I know he rides the 9. I won't avoid the 9 now; I'll just avoid conversation until I get this commuting thing down.
When I talked to my mom yesterday, pressing her to take my survey, I finally told her about this project. Seeing as how she's the one who told me a stalker was picked up looking in her colleague's window one block over, and has never been overly trusting of mankind, I thought for sure she'd tell me I was crazy for giving up my car to walk and bus all over Albany. Instead, she was thrilled.
"I loved riding the bus! I made a lot of friends."
I remember one of those friends. Louis. He was one of the drivers when she was going to Russell Sage College in Troy but still living in Colonie. She would have been eighteen or nineteen years old at the time, but she remembered him long after the last time she'd seen him. I witnessed the surprise meeting in front of Price Chopper; I was seventeen. Louis hugged me. When we got in the car, I was still stunned a middle-aged man randomly hugged me in a parking lot.
In the car, I asked, "Mom, who was that guy?"
She chuckled. "Oh that's Louis." She said it was an old friend of hers who used to drive the bus when she was in college. (My step-father later told me she dated him very briefly, in the 70's.)
It didn't mean much to me then, but I have context now: context for finding friends and love, on CDTA. If its "Buck-a-Ride" Campaign doesn't pan out, I think they should advertise from the finding friends and dating each other angle. People will do anything for love, especially if they get to save money at the same time.
I'm fascinated by the number of pre-college aged students riding CDTA buses in the morning. Albanyschools.org advised that CDTA transports students in grades 7-12, and those students that live within a 1.5 mile radius from school. Even though I took the Big Girl Number 9 today, there were still a number of young students on the bus, younger even than the high school students on the Knucklehead Number 9 from last week. They were cute. They poked and giggled at the back of a man's newspaper as he read the other side. In turn, he ignored them completely.
After the kids got off, I asked the man if the bus went to Washington and Lark. He informed me it went all the way down to Broadway (which I knew, I just didn't want to stay on parallel streets the entire way there). I thanked him and went back to giving him his space. I figured he needed it seeing as how right after the kids left, he got up and moved to the back of the bus.
Washington and Lark is a fascinating place to hang out at 7:45 in the morning. It holds the richest cross-section of morning riders I've seen yet, perhaps because just about every bus stops there on its way uptown. There were more middle-aged riders there than I'd seen on the other routes, more young kids, college-aged riders (including the woman with the Human Rights Campaign patch on her bag that I sat next to last week), and a handful of disabled riders. I know that's an assumption, but I say it remembering the man who pounded across the street in an orange puffy coat yelling, "Hold it! Hold it!" to the bus stopped at the corner, and then stood in front of the bus for ten seconds reading the sign before getting on.
On the way up Washington Ave., the driver stopped three different times to answer questions for people waiting at bus stops who never actually got on the bus. I wish I could have heard what they were asking. Some of the questions looked pretty involved from the window. It was the first time I realized how flexible drivers must have to be to meet the needs of a very diverse group of people. In watching the bus driver from the middle of the aisle, it seemed like he had to switch mental gears every time he opened the door.
I was lucky enough to get on the Number 12 going to the State Campus today; but when I asked the driver if he stopped in front of my building, he informed me there was no stop there. Now I know it doesn't matter what Number 12 I take, I still have to walk down the ramp going into the campus from Washington and cross the other ramp that dumps cars right from I-85 into the campus. So far, I don't know how someone hasn't been killed, especially at night when it's dark and there are no sidewalks to use.
I know this is cheating, but I walked home from work again. I liked the downtime. It was a pretty nice walk once I reached Western. Lots of lights, lots of cars, nice big safe sidewalks.
Unfortunately, I have to take my car tomorrow as I have to leave and return to work; but if I feel so inspired, you might just get some more trivia, or a history lesson. I've been pulling together both. I'm just dedicated like that.
On the plus side, I saw many familiar faces, including a pre-teen I met this summer at Grease with Eric. He took all Eric's gum, talked to anyone who looked his way, and then jumped on stage at Playhouse to do the Running Man before security chased him off. He was a fun kid. Blond headed, blue-eyed, highly vocal, and full of trouble.
I admit, though, I tried not to look at him this morning. I knew he'd talk to me, and I had more pressing matters like: where am I supposed to get off the bus? When's the next 12 coming along? Am I stepping on my pant-leg? He's the only ten year old kid I ever avoided, and now I know he rides the 9. I won't avoid the 9 now; I'll just avoid conversation until I get this commuting thing down.
When I talked to my mom yesterday, pressing her to take my survey, I finally told her about this project. Seeing as how she's the one who told me a stalker was picked up looking in her colleague's window one block over, and has never been overly trusting of mankind, I thought for sure she'd tell me I was crazy for giving up my car to walk and bus all over Albany. Instead, she was thrilled.
"I loved riding the bus! I made a lot of friends."
I remember one of those friends. Louis. He was one of the drivers when she was going to Russell Sage College in Troy but still living in Colonie. She would have been eighteen or nineteen years old at the time, but she remembered him long after the last time she'd seen him. I witnessed the surprise meeting in front of Price Chopper; I was seventeen. Louis hugged me. When we got in the car, I was still stunned a middle-aged man randomly hugged me in a parking lot.
In the car, I asked, "Mom, who was that guy?"
She chuckled. "Oh that's Louis." She said it was an old friend of hers who used to drive the bus when she was in college. (My step-father later told me she dated him very briefly, in the 70's.)
It didn't mean much to me then, but I have context now: context for finding friends and love, on CDTA. If its "Buck-a-Ride" Campaign doesn't pan out, I think they should advertise from the finding friends and dating each other angle. People will do anything for love, especially if they get to save money at the same time.
I'm fascinated by the number of pre-college aged students riding CDTA buses in the morning. Albanyschools.org advised that CDTA transports students in grades 7-12, and those students that live within a 1.5 mile radius from school. Even though I took the Big Girl Number 9 today, there were still a number of young students on the bus, younger even than the high school students on the Knucklehead Number 9 from last week. They were cute. They poked and giggled at the back of a man's newspaper as he read the other side. In turn, he ignored them completely.
After the kids got off, I asked the man if the bus went to Washington and Lark. He informed me it went all the way down to Broadway (which I knew, I just didn't want to stay on parallel streets the entire way there). I thanked him and went back to giving him his space. I figured he needed it seeing as how right after the kids left, he got up and moved to the back of the bus.
Washington and Lark is a fascinating place to hang out at 7:45 in the morning. It holds the richest cross-section of morning riders I've seen yet, perhaps because just about every bus stops there on its way uptown. There were more middle-aged riders there than I'd seen on the other routes, more young kids, college-aged riders (including the woman with the Human Rights Campaign patch on her bag that I sat next to last week), and a handful of disabled riders. I know that's an assumption, but I say it remembering the man who pounded across the street in an orange puffy coat yelling, "Hold it! Hold it!" to the bus stopped at the corner, and then stood in front of the bus for ten seconds reading the sign before getting on.
On the way up Washington Ave., the driver stopped three different times to answer questions for people waiting at bus stops who never actually got on the bus. I wish I could have heard what they were asking. Some of the questions looked pretty involved from the window. It was the first time I realized how flexible drivers must have to be to meet the needs of a very diverse group of people. In watching the bus driver from the middle of the aisle, it seemed like he had to switch mental gears every time he opened the door.
I was lucky enough to get on the Number 12 going to the State Campus today; but when I asked the driver if he stopped in front of my building, he informed me there was no stop there. Now I know it doesn't matter what Number 12 I take, I still have to walk down the ramp going into the campus from Washington and cross the other ramp that dumps cars right from I-85 into the campus. So far, I don't know how someone hasn't been killed, especially at night when it's dark and there are no sidewalks to use.
I know this is cheating, but I walked home from work again. I liked the downtime. It was a pretty nice walk once I reached Western. Lots of lights, lots of cars, nice big safe sidewalks.
Unfortunately, I have to take my car tomorrow as I have to leave and return to work; but if I feel so inspired, you might just get some more trivia, or a history lesson. I've been pulling together both. I'm just dedicated like that.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
COMMUTER TRENDS, 1985-2001
According the U.S. Dept. of Transportation's Research and Innovative Technology Administration (RITA), between 1985-2001, non-carpool automobile use to commute to work increased steadily from 72.4% to 78.2%. Carpooling dropped from 14.1% in 1985 to 9.7% in 2001, with its biggest drop between 1985-1989 (14.1% to 11.8% of communters). This was also the period where the biggest increase in self-drivers occurred. Public Transportation remained relatively steady between 1985-2001, ranging from 5.1% (1985) to 4.7% (2001). Between 1989-1997, using public transportation to get to work remained steady at 4.6%, jumping a little in 1999 to 4.9%, and then decreasing again just slightly. Walking, bicycling, or using other means of transportation to get to work decreased steadily from 1985, though none of those methods was ever greater than driving, carpooling, or using public transportation. The closest method was walking. In 1985, RITA reported 4% of commuters walked as compared to 5.1% using public transportation. The discrepancy between them increased with time, however. (Table 1-35: Principal Means of Transportation to Work, USDOT RITA)
I was surprised that the number of drivers didn't increase, and the number of people using public transportation didn't decrease more from 1985-2001. It's significant, though, that the increase in drivers seems to have come from a drop-off in carpooling and walking. I'd be interested to know the reason for the decrease, although I can guess it's because during that time, it became more convenient or more accessible to own and drive a car than it did to share rides or walk. I also wonder if more people during that time were able to purchase and afford cars, or if development in suburban and rural areas made it necessary for people have cars.
Source:
I was surprised that the number of drivers didn't increase, and the number of people using public transportation didn't decrease more from 1985-2001. It's significant, though, that the increase in drivers seems to have come from a drop-off in carpooling and walking. I'd be interested to know the reason for the decrease, although I can guess it's because during that time, it became more convenient or more accessible to own and drive a car than it did to share rides or walk. I also wonder if more people during that time were able to purchase and afford cars, or if development in suburban and rural areas made it necessary for people have cars.
Source:
- Table 1-35: Principal Means of Transportation to Work. U.S. Department of Transportation Research and Innovative Technology Administration.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
SURVEY
Humor a curious bus-riding woman, take my survey:
http://www.surveymonkey.com/s.aspx?sm=erusyMg2_2b577b4HNoYyGXQ_3d_3d
I'm collecting responses to get an idea of why most people use (or don't use) public transportation, and in case you hadn't guessed, I want to know what you think. Not that I'll know who you are, but don't let that deter you.
I'll let you know what the results are on December 1, 2007.
Thanks, and happy trails-
Robyn
http://www.surveymonkey.com/s.aspx?sm=erusyMg2_2b577b4HNoYyGXQ_3d_3d
I'm collecting responses to get an idea of why most people use (or don't use) public transportation, and in case you hadn't guessed, I want to know what you think. Not that I'll know who you are, but don't let that deter you.
I'll let you know what the results are on December 1, 2007.
Thanks, and happy trails-
Robyn
THE ROSA PARKS MEMORIAL SEAT
(I referred to this seat in my 11/17/07 post, "Knuckle Heads," which was actually written 11/15/07.)
The Rosa Parks Memorial Seat
CDTA Executive Director, Steve Bland, said about Rosa Parks and the dedication of a memorial seat on CDTA: "CDTA is proud to partner with Citizens Bank and the City of Albany to honor Rosa Parks as the 'mother of the civil rights movement.' Her courage helped to change America, redirect history and to define the philosophy and goals of public transportation to provide mobility and accessibility to improve the quality of life for all members of society." He added, "Her presence is still being felt by virtue of this seat, and it will be a constant reminder of the need to make public transportation available and accessible to people of all walks of life."
Citizens Bank in NY partnered with CDTA in February 2006 to provide the memorial seat (Citizens Bank Press Release, February 6, 2006).
On December 5, 1955 Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat on the bus to a white man in Montgomery, Alabama. Her action sparked a wave of protest and led to a bus boycott in Alabama that lasted 381 days. The Rosa and Raymond Parks Institute for Self Development states, "Contingent with the protest in Montgomery, others took shape throughout the south and the country. They took form as sit-ins, eat-ins, swim-ins, and similar causes. Thousands of courageous people joined the 'protest' to demand equal rights for all people," perhaps the reason why Rosa Parks is known as the mother of the Civil Rights Movement.
Sources:
Citizens Bank Press Release, February 6, 2006
http://www.citizensbank.com/au/news/ctz/2006/02_09_06_Rosa_Parks.aspx
Rosa and Raymond Parks Institute for Self Development, "Rosa Louise Parks Biography"
http://www.rosaparks.org/bio.html
The Rosa Parks Memorial Seat
CDTA Executive Director, Steve Bland, said about Rosa Parks and the dedication of a memorial seat on CDTA: "CDTA is proud to partner with Citizens Bank and the City of Albany to honor Rosa Parks as the 'mother of the civil rights movement.' Her courage helped to change America, redirect history and to define the philosophy and goals of public transportation to provide mobility and accessibility to improve the quality of life for all members of society." He added, "Her presence is still being felt by virtue of this seat, and it will be a constant reminder of the need to make public transportation available and accessible to people of all walks of life."
Citizens Bank in NY partnered with CDTA in February 2006 to provide the memorial seat (Citizens Bank Press Release, February 6, 2006).
On December 5, 1955 Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat on the bus to a white man in Montgomery, Alabama. Her action sparked a wave of protest and led to a bus boycott in Alabama that lasted 381 days. The Rosa and Raymond Parks Institute for Self Development states, "Contingent with the protest in Montgomery, others took shape throughout the south and the country. They took form as sit-ins, eat-ins, swim-ins, and similar causes. Thousands of courageous people joined the 'protest' to demand equal rights for all people," perhaps the reason why Rosa Parks is known as the mother of the Civil Rights Movement.
Sources:
Citizens Bank Press Release, February 6, 2006
http://www.citizensbank.com/au/news/ctz/2006/02_09_06_Rosa_Parks.aspx
Rosa and Raymond Parks Institute for Self Development, "Rosa Louise Parks Biography"
http://www.rosaparks.org/bio.html
KNUCKLE HEADS
(From Thursday, 11/15/07):
It poured all morning and drizzled all night. I hoped I wouldn’t get pneumonia and die. I say that because Gram W yelled at me in my head all the way to work this morning about my wet head. She’s from that generation that believes wet heads kill, and germs are just a coincidence.I didn't want to take the 9 again, so I walked to the 12 in the downpour. I wore a yellow raincoat and brought an extra pair of shoes, but somehow it never occurred to me that the rest of my body might get wet walking a mile to the bus.
My pants were pretty much soaked through by the time the bus picked me up. I had to walk again across parking lot at work, thoroughly soaking whatever other parts of my clothing left untouched from minutes before. My shoes made squishy noises all the way up the stairs and my pants stuck to my legs; they didn’t dry until after noon. I found a big black mark across my thigh where I'd held my book bag on my lap. Also, the patch on my raincoat let the rain through. When I took my coat off, a coworker said it looked like I was lactating. For the first time that week, I expected my experiment would prompt a verbal warning about being inappropriately dressed for work. I wondered how people in big cities in business suits managed to get around town and show up for work mostly unscathed.
The bus driver was also having an off day. When he pulled up to the curb, the sign on the bus said "Not in Service." I hoped the bus was not an illusion: God's green way of taking me “home.” Kind of like Large Marge in Pee Wee’s Big Adventure.
I got on anyway. I figured if I was already dead, it wouldn't much matter what bus I was getting on. Passengers at the next stop, however, confirmed it was all just a big mistake. The driver apologized and told them, "I just had sixty high schoolers on this bus."
A man who sat next me repeated him. "Sixty high-schoolers. Oh Lord."
The driver shrugged in the mirror. "It mighta been fifty.’Lot of high schoolers either way."
"'Lotta knuckle heads," said the man sitting on the bench with me. People in the back of the bus chuckled.
That reminds me: there was a middle-aged white man sitting in the red cushy seat right behind the driver that was dedicated by the Rosa Parks Foundation. I don’t think anyone else caught the irony.
It poured all morning and drizzled all night. I hoped I wouldn’t get pneumonia and die. I say that because Gram W yelled at me in my head all the way to work this morning about my wet head. She’s from that generation that believes wet heads kill, and germs are just a coincidence.I didn't want to take the 9 again, so I walked to the 12 in the downpour. I wore a yellow raincoat and brought an extra pair of shoes, but somehow it never occurred to me that the rest of my body might get wet walking a mile to the bus.
My pants were pretty much soaked through by the time the bus picked me up. I had to walk again across parking lot at work, thoroughly soaking whatever other parts of my clothing left untouched from minutes before. My shoes made squishy noises all the way up the stairs and my pants stuck to my legs; they didn’t dry until after noon. I found a big black mark across my thigh where I'd held my book bag on my lap. Also, the patch on my raincoat let the rain through. When I took my coat off, a coworker said it looked like I was lactating. For the first time that week, I expected my experiment would prompt a verbal warning about being inappropriately dressed for work. I wondered how people in big cities in business suits managed to get around town and show up for work mostly unscathed.
The bus driver was also having an off day. When he pulled up to the curb, the sign on the bus said "Not in Service." I hoped the bus was not an illusion: God's green way of taking me “home.” Kind of like Large Marge in Pee Wee’s Big Adventure.
I got on anyway. I figured if I was already dead, it wouldn't much matter what bus I was getting on. Passengers at the next stop, however, confirmed it was all just a big mistake. The driver apologized and told them, "I just had sixty high schoolers on this bus."
A man who sat next me repeated him. "Sixty high-schoolers. Oh Lord."
The driver shrugged in the mirror. "It mighta been fifty.’Lot of high schoolers either way."
"'Lotta knuckle heads," said the man sitting on the bench with me. People in the back of the bus chuckled.
That reminds me: there was a middle-aged white man sitting in the red cushy seat right behind the driver that was dedicated by the Rosa Parks Foundation. I don’t think anyone else caught the irony.
Friday, November 16, 2007
CHARACTER DIFFERENCES
I haven't figured out the numbers yet, but I think I'm finding out it's more efficient to walk around Albany than it is to drive or to wait for the bus. I can calculate miles and fares and estimated gas dollars; it's harder to put a number on quality of time. That being said, however, I started to falter in my mission this morning. I don't know if it was the cold, the leg cramp, or the huge blisters on my feet, but somehow today, I just wanted to blink my eyes and be at work (well, you know what I mean).
I refused to give in to the laziness or the blisters, though, and opted for a new route. I think this one's going to work out - aside from waiting time, it offers the least amount walking. Instead of trying to get on the right 9 to the 12, it entails taking to 13 to the 30 (30! who knew?) to the 12.
Actually, my swiper still hadn't arrived in the mail, and I only had enough money for two buses, so I walked the 30 route up Allen. It was a pretty walk. Very residential. Nice houses. It held the kind of quaint suburban charm that appeals to my somewhat snobby farm girl sensibilities.
When I got to Washington, I figured I'd missed the 12 I usually took by about ten minutes. I asked a young man standing in the bus stop shelter if he knew when the next bus was coming. He shrugged and said, "I don't know. I been out here for like half an hour," and lit a cigarette. I smoked with him, but outside the shelter.
The bus finally came. I had a little trouble shoving my dollar into the slot, joked about it to the driver, and took a seat long enough to get off in three minutes anyway to walk into work.
I was going to ride all the way home, but when I pulled the cord at Allen to catch the 30 a block away from there, it didn't signal the driver, so I had to pull harder on a different part of the cord and hop off two blocks down. By then, it just made more sense to walk the rest of the way. The walk itself only took twenty minutes, and there were still enough people out that it felt safe.
I was thinking tonight about the differences between public transportation here versus public transportation I've taken in Boston and D.C. The systems there, though I've only ever ridden subways and commuter trains, have a sort of rushed young professionalism about them. There's a slight hint of it here, especially on the 13, which runs up New Scotland, and sometimes on the 12 if you happen to ride with state workers; but the character of it is vastly different.
According to CDTA's January 2007 Transit Development Plan, it describes its current rider profile as:
• CDTA riders are loyal; over 50% have been riding for longer than 10 years.
• 60% of riders have no or limited access to a car.
• 55% of riders are female; 45% are male; 50% are between 35-54 years old; 20%
are 55-65
• The major trip purpose is work (70% of all trips).
Of those people that don't ride:
• People who don’t ride buses have ready access to cars. Congestion does not
impact their mobility.
• People acknowledge the benefits of riding buses, but don’t perceive the benefits
as great enough to outweigh the perceived loss of independence and freedom
that comes with auto travel.
• CDTA service is not perceived as convenient to them or important to their
current lifestyle.
I zeroed in on the "limited or no access to a car," along with the report's claim that service is adequate for centralized city areas, but many people in the region live in suburban areas. The report also states that household demographics of the area show that individuals living in suburbs have both greater incomes, and greater access to cars overall. Maybe since higher income earners live further outside central city areas, and CDTA has less service to those areas, there's no incentive to use public transportation for those individuals. I'll have to look up statistics on public transportation providers in other areas; the difference in character might just be that there's a greater mix of individuals riding in bigger cities. Here, the greatest use seems to be among people who don't really have any other choice.
I will say, though, that when I sat down next to a very pierced young woman with a Human Rights Campaign patch on her bag; and then a young man got on later, whipped out a notebook and started writing what looked like poetry from across the aisle, I felt about as "big-city" as anywhere else I've ever visited.
In any case, something to think about.
My swiper was in the mailbox when I got home. I have some errands to run this weekend, and I want to see how it is using public transportation to go to multiple locations, especially those too far from home to walk.
Sources:
CDTA January 2007 Transit Development Program,
http://www.cdta.org/pdfs/Transit%20Development%20Plan%202007/Transit%20Development%20Plan%20January%202007%20Final.pdf
I refused to give in to the laziness or the blisters, though, and opted for a new route. I think this one's going to work out - aside from waiting time, it offers the least amount walking. Instead of trying to get on the right 9 to the 12, it entails taking to 13 to the 30 (30! who knew?) to the 12.
Actually, my swiper still hadn't arrived in the mail, and I only had enough money for two buses, so I walked the 30 route up Allen. It was a pretty walk. Very residential. Nice houses. It held the kind of quaint suburban charm that appeals to my somewhat snobby farm girl sensibilities.
When I got to Washington, I figured I'd missed the 12 I usually took by about ten minutes. I asked a young man standing in the bus stop shelter if he knew when the next bus was coming. He shrugged and said, "I don't know. I been out here for like half an hour," and lit a cigarette. I smoked with him, but outside the shelter.
The bus finally came. I had a little trouble shoving my dollar into the slot, joked about it to the driver, and took a seat long enough to get off in three minutes anyway to walk into work.
I was going to ride all the way home, but when I pulled the cord at Allen to catch the 30 a block away from there, it didn't signal the driver, so I had to pull harder on a different part of the cord and hop off two blocks down. By then, it just made more sense to walk the rest of the way. The walk itself only took twenty minutes, and there were still enough people out that it felt safe.
I was thinking tonight about the differences between public transportation here versus public transportation I've taken in Boston and D.C. The systems there, though I've only ever ridden subways and commuter trains, have a sort of rushed young professionalism about them. There's a slight hint of it here, especially on the 13, which runs up New Scotland, and sometimes on the 12 if you happen to ride with state workers; but the character of it is vastly different.
According to CDTA's January 2007 Transit Development Plan, it describes its current rider profile as:
• CDTA riders are loyal; over 50% have been riding for longer than 10 years.
• 60% of riders have no or limited access to a car.
• 55% of riders are female; 45% are male; 50% are between 35-54 years old; 20%
are 55-65
• The major trip purpose is work (70% of all trips).
Of those people that don't ride:
• People who don’t ride buses have ready access to cars. Congestion does not
impact their mobility.
• People acknowledge the benefits of riding buses, but don’t perceive the benefits
as great enough to outweigh the perceived loss of independence and freedom
that comes with auto travel.
• CDTA service is not perceived as convenient to them or important to their
current lifestyle.
I zeroed in on the "limited or no access to a car," along with the report's claim that service is adequate for centralized city areas, but many people in the region live in suburban areas. The report also states that household demographics of the area show that individuals living in suburbs have both greater incomes, and greater access to cars overall. Maybe since higher income earners live further outside central city areas, and CDTA has less service to those areas, there's no incentive to use public transportation for those individuals. I'll have to look up statistics on public transportation providers in other areas; the difference in character might just be that there's a greater mix of individuals riding in bigger cities. Here, the greatest use seems to be among people who don't really have any other choice.
I will say, though, that when I sat down next to a very pierced young woman with a Human Rights Campaign patch on her bag; and then a young man got on later, whipped out a notebook and started writing what looked like poetry from across the aisle, I felt about as "big-city" as anywhere else I've ever visited.
In any case, something to think about.
My swiper was in the mailbox when I got home. I have some errands to run this weekend, and I want to see how it is using public transportation to go to multiple locations, especially those too far from home to walk.
Sources:
CDTA January 2007 Transit Development Program,
http://www.cdta.org/pdfs/Transit%20Development%20Plan%202007/Transit%20Development%20Plan%20January%202007%20Final.pdf
Thursday, November 15, 2007
DISMANTLING RAILS
My friend, Ronnie, read this blog the other day and sent me an email in response to it. Aside from the fact that it was well-written and really interesting, I'm posting it because he brings up some interesting points I've been planning on addressing (namely, rail travel, and transportation to and from rural and outlying localities). Thought his email made a nice start to a long converation:
"...if there was a bus that I could take conveniently to and from work I would definitely do it, but being in the middle of nowhere I don't have the option really of public transportation, unless I wanted to get up 2 hours early and get home and hour later every night.
I think that besides working on alternative fuel vehicles(which of course only the rich can afford and since they make up so little of the population won't really make that much
of a difference) they should be working on putting back together our public transportation. All those train tracks that lay in deterioration now could be rebuilt and people could hop on trains again for their morning commute rather than clogging the highways. Imagine if there was a train instead of taking the northway? Everyone would be on it. The automotive industry actually worked very hard on dismantling the railways in mid century to make people dependent on cars. There was even an electric car built in the 1920's that was going to change the world and the factory was destroyed by fire (probably Ford setting it to make sure their cars would not be put out of production).
But we still do every bit we can to save the environment at home. I've replaced almost every lamp in the house with compact flourescent bulbs and even started experimenting with LED bulbs, we compost all of our vegetable matter, tea bags, coffee grinds..., we burn the pellet stove to use less oil, we've been sealing and insulating the house. Some of it is to save money for ourselves, but a lot of it is environmental, if everyone just did some of this it would save tons of greenhouse emissions, so since we do so much it probably makes up for four other households who do absolutely nothing."
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
TWO TWELVES, TWO NINES, TOO MUCH MATH
I took the 9 and the 12 to work today like I said I would. I left the house at 6:55 and got to work at 8:15 (ten minute detour to Stewart's included). I realized as I was trekking across the big parking lot to work that in the time it took me to take two buses just over two miles, I could have driven to Saugerties and been on my second Hot Texas Weiner; but no one eats hot dogs that early in the morning.
I spent most of the time waiting for the bus.
I found out the 9 only runs once per hour. Not realizing there were two 9s, I took the first one I saw knowing it would get me to Washington Ave. When I got on the bus, I had to squeeze by five high-schoolers and find an open spot to stand in front of the bus. All the riders were high school kids.
While I was standing there, dapper and cheerful in my scarf and leather blazer, I heard one of the kids sitting off to my side rap, "Lemme see ya faggots put ya hands up." He smirked at me. The girl across the aisle smirked at him. I tuned them out. A few minutes later, I was aware that the whole front of the bus was staring at me.
The rapping boy said, "I don't like gay people." The same girl that smiled at him earlier said he was homophobic. He said, "I am homophobic." She asked, "Yo. Yo, you don't like gay people for real?"
He answered, "Naw," and another boy next to him glanced over and said, "Shut the fuck up."
That was just about the time the bus turned a sharp corner. I wasn't expecting it, lost my balance, swayed toward the front of the bus, overcompensated, and swayed back around while the high-schoolers snickered and I almost dumped my big body into a young boy's lap. It was a little uncomfortable.
My mind raced through all the news stories in the past year recounting brawls and police arrests, and I thought, "I'm pretty much going to get myself killed three days before Mom turns 55." It was one of those hysteric moments; I was sweating fear, and was sure they could smell it, and I was also trying not to laugh because I was an idiot adult in a red scarf that couldn't hold on to save her life while the bus was cruising.
I got off at the high school (that was when the bus driver said there were two Number 9s, and I should take the other one that didn't say "Albany High School"). The driver offered to take me up to the corner, but I told him I'd just cut across the lawn. No problem.
Of course, I started walking off to the edge of the enormous lawn while passers-by looked me over, perhaps sensing that, even if some people don't believe I'm thirty, I don't exactly look like a high-schooler. I imagined myself through a high school window - a tall androgynous stranger, getting smaller and smaller and smaller, thinking I'm getting away, only to stop at the fence and stare as if I'd found the end of the world and didn't know where to throw the party. It was then I realized that Albany High is a compound, and I became its momentary prisoner. I couldn't wait to tell my friends.
I did find my way out, however, and made it without incident to Washington Ave., where I waited another twenty minutes for the 12 to arrive. Not the State Campus 12; the wrong one that I took yesterday, but I figured as long as I got off before the Bone & Joint Center, I was still doing OK.
I've got 12 nailed, but I'm not having much luck with 9. I remembered to check the schedule at work and realized the reason it never came back around Western last night was that it stops running by 7pm. For me to try to bus directly back from school at night, I'd have to take the 12 to the 13, which is counterintuitive because it runs in the opposite direction of my apartment, and is a longer distance. I could have tried it tonight, or taken the 10 or 11 and walked like I did last night; but tonight was mild, and the side streets more populated and better lit from school than from further up Western, so I just walked the whole way. It only took twenty minutes.
On a positive note, one of my classmates came up to me tonight and said he thought it was really cool that I was doing this blog, and encouraged me to keep it up. I plan to continue, at least until my month swiper runs out halfway into December. As inefficient as it seems to take the bus for very short distances, I still think it's a good way to travel. I just have to figure out when it's better to walk instead of ride, and when to wait for the next Number 9.
I spent most of the time waiting for the bus.
I found out the 9 only runs once per hour. Not realizing there were two 9s, I took the first one I saw knowing it would get me to Washington Ave. When I got on the bus, I had to squeeze by five high-schoolers and find an open spot to stand in front of the bus. All the riders were high school kids.
While I was standing there, dapper and cheerful in my scarf and leather blazer, I heard one of the kids sitting off to my side rap, "Lemme see ya faggots put ya hands up." He smirked at me. The girl across the aisle smirked at him. I tuned them out. A few minutes later, I was aware that the whole front of the bus was staring at me.
The rapping boy said, "I don't like gay people." The same girl that smiled at him earlier said he was homophobic. He said, "I am homophobic." She asked, "Yo. Yo, you don't like gay people for real?"
He answered, "Naw," and another boy next to him glanced over and said, "Shut the fuck up."
That was just about the time the bus turned a sharp corner. I wasn't expecting it, lost my balance, swayed toward the front of the bus, overcompensated, and swayed back around while the high-schoolers snickered and I almost dumped my big body into a young boy's lap. It was a little uncomfortable.
My mind raced through all the news stories in the past year recounting brawls and police arrests, and I thought, "I'm pretty much going to get myself killed three days before Mom turns 55." It was one of those hysteric moments; I was sweating fear, and was sure they could smell it, and I was also trying not to laugh because I was an idiot adult in a red scarf that couldn't hold on to save her life while the bus was cruising.
I got off at the high school (that was when the bus driver said there were two Number 9s, and I should take the other one that didn't say "Albany High School"). The driver offered to take me up to the corner, but I told him I'd just cut across the lawn. No problem.
Of course, I started walking off to the edge of the enormous lawn while passers-by looked me over, perhaps sensing that, even if some people don't believe I'm thirty, I don't exactly look like a high-schooler. I imagined myself through a high school window - a tall androgynous stranger, getting smaller and smaller and smaller, thinking I'm getting away, only to stop at the fence and stare as if I'd found the end of the world and didn't know where to throw the party. It was then I realized that Albany High is a compound, and I became its momentary prisoner. I couldn't wait to tell my friends.
I did find my way out, however, and made it without incident to Washington Ave., where I waited another twenty minutes for the 12 to arrive. Not the State Campus 12; the wrong one that I took yesterday, but I figured as long as I got off before the Bone & Joint Center, I was still doing OK.
I've got 12 nailed, but I'm not having much luck with 9. I remembered to check the schedule at work and realized the reason it never came back around Western last night was that it stops running by 7pm. For me to try to bus directly back from school at night, I'd have to take the 12 to the 13, which is counterintuitive because it runs in the opposite direction of my apartment, and is a longer distance. I could have tried it tonight, or taken the 10 or 11 and walked like I did last night; but tonight was mild, and the side streets more populated and better lit from school than from further up Western, so I just walked the whole way. It only took twenty minutes.
On a positive note, one of my classmates came up to me tonight and said he thought it was really cool that I was doing this blog, and encouraged me to keep it up. I plan to continue, at least until my month swiper runs out halfway into December. As inefficient as it seems to take the bus for very short distances, I still think it's a good way to travel. I just have to figure out when it's better to walk instead of ride, and when to wait for the next Number 9.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
CONNECTION
I don't have any more consolidated research nuggets for you just yet (give me until Thursday on that one), but I do have more to tell you about bus riding fun. Generally, I only plan on one post per day, but for the sake of this being my first full day at the mercy of someone else's schedule, appease me.
My director came up to me this morning and asked if he'd seen me walking outside this morning. I told him I was doing a little experiment. He's grown to expect these answers from me. I told him about my blog project, and he listened insofar as to question where the bus stopped, and by the time I got around to explaining there were two Number 12s, he needed no more explanation. I knew he must have seen me outside because when I waved walking by his office on my way in, he looked confused. Apparently, it is a novel act, indeed, to ride the bus when one has a car.
I got out of work at 5 and trekked up the ramp from the State Campus to Washington Ave. It was dimly lit, and because the Campus is comprised of three to four lanes of traffic in any given spot, a little scary. It's not designed for pedestrians; it's (ta-da) designed for cars. Not that I had to walk in the lanes themselves, but it was a little hairy crossing the ramp to get to Washington.
I waited at the bus stop with one other woman (here, you may sing to yourself, "Paradise by the Traffic Light" to the tune of Meatloaf; I am, and would appreciate the show of solidarity on your part). It's strange to stand in one spot with someone you don't know, so I asked her if she worked in my building. She explained she worked the next building over. When I told her I was giving my car a break, she became maternal: "It's not too bad taking the bus, 'cept for that walk up the hill," and then, "It's not too bad tonight. Not too cold."
A word of note, people gawk when you're just standing under a sign. I scanned the faces for someone I knew, but I didn't recognize anyone. I just smiled to myself. Like I was a zoo animal, unsure what I was doing that was drawing so much attention, but pleased that my audience might feed me peanuts at any given moment. (Tomorrow I'm going to wear a little hat and bring an accordian with me.)
The woman, however, caught a ride about halfway through our wait. When she was leaving to get in the car, she said, "See ya later." That was very nice.
The bus came a while later. Again, mostly students and upper middle aged riders. I listened to their conversations. A lot of stuff about office politics and unfair promotions. Just before I got to my stop, a group of young people got on the bus. A man walked by and reeked so strongly like pot, I looked twice to see if he was still smoking it. The woman across from me waved her hand over her nose, looked at her friend and laughed, "He shoulda waited a few minutes to get on!"
I was worried that I wouldn't get to school on time, as work got out at 5pm, it took about fifteen minutes to walk to the stop, I waited another ten minutes, and then the bus finally came close to 5:30pm. Class was at 5:45, and the ride itself only took five or ten minutes, so worrying was needless. Still, if I wanted to make a habit out of riding, I could reschedule my 5pm days for days in which I don't have class.
I headed back out to the bus stop when class was over. The sign at the stop said 9 and 10. I forgot to see how late the 9 ran before I left work, but that was the one closest to my house, so I decided to wait for it to come around. The 10 came and left. Another student came out to the stop to wait for the 10. I didn't tell her she'd just missed it because the magic of public transportation is that, soon enough, there'll be another Number 10 (I figure if there are two 12s, then CDTA is capable of anything short of turning water into wine).
We talked about numbers. In one day, I've learned a whole new language. "Well, I could take the 12, but technically I'm closer to Western, so the 10 is better."
The student clearly liked taking the bus. When she started talking about how you just show your little card and the driver magically drops you off at your stop, no worries, no frets, I knew I'd struck up the right conversation. I egged her on a little.
"Yeah, I'm kinda new to this. I lived on a farm, not many buses running out there. But once gas got to $3.25, I just decided to try it."
She was thrilled. "You know, people say it's so much more convenient to drive, but it's really not. I mean, you have to worry about parking, and getting hit, and red lights... And like in the bad weather, if you're in an accident, it's so much money. It's better just to get on and not have to worry about it."
She was a woman after my own heart, as they say. Having totaled two cars (OK, the same car twice) in winter weather, I dread winter driving. Another plus to bus riding.
The 10 still hadn't come back before the 11 arrived, which was also going her way, so she left and we said good night.
The 9 never came, and the 10 still hadn't come back before the 11 rolled around again. I asked the driver if he was just going straight up Western, and upon his silent "Yes, Dummy" reply, got on the bus. I figured I might as well just walk the few blocks home from Western, and it wasn't so bad, though the side streets weren't very well lit. I never noticed it in the car. Having been mugged a number of years before, I'm a little leary of any street where I can't hear or see everything going on around me.
The very cool thing, however, is that on that last stretch of today's commute, I realized that I was facing my fears and becoming more connected with my environment. In my car, I go from one isolated environment to another. In walking and taking the bus, I saw more, talked to more people, became more aware of sights and sounds, and just had more time to think. In giving up the freedom of time, I gained the freedom of sensation. It was kind of nice.
My director came up to me this morning and asked if he'd seen me walking outside this morning. I told him I was doing a little experiment. He's grown to expect these answers from me. I told him about my blog project, and he listened insofar as to question where the bus stopped, and by the time I got around to explaining there were two Number 12s, he needed no more explanation. I knew he must have seen me outside because when I waved walking by his office on my way in, he looked confused. Apparently, it is a novel act, indeed, to ride the bus when one has a car.
I got out of work at 5 and trekked up the ramp from the State Campus to Washington Ave. It was dimly lit, and because the Campus is comprised of three to four lanes of traffic in any given spot, a little scary. It's not designed for pedestrians; it's (ta-da) designed for cars. Not that I had to walk in the lanes themselves, but it was a little hairy crossing the ramp to get to Washington.
I waited at the bus stop with one other woman (here, you may sing to yourself, "Paradise by the Traffic Light" to the tune of Meatloaf; I am, and would appreciate the show of solidarity on your part). It's strange to stand in one spot with someone you don't know, so I asked her if she worked in my building. She explained she worked the next building over. When I told her I was giving my car a break, she became maternal: "It's not too bad taking the bus, 'cept for that walk up the hill," and then, "It's not too bad tonight. Not too cold."
A word of note, people gawk when you're just standing under a sign. I scanned the faces for someone I knew, but I didn't recognize anyone. I just smiled to myself. Like I was a zoo animal, unsure what I was doing that was drawing so much attention, but pleased that my audience might feed me peanuts at any given moment. (Tomorrow I'm going to wear a little hat and bring an accordian with me.)
The woman, however, caught a ride about halfway through our wait. When she was leaving to get in the car, she said, "See ya later." That was very nice.
The bus came a while later. Again, mostly students and upper middle aged riders. I listened to their conversations. A lot of stuff about office politics and unfair promotions. Just before I got to my stop, a group of young people got on the bus. A man walked by and reeked so strongly like pot, I looked twice to see if he was still smoking it. The woman across from me waved her hand over her nose, looked at her friend and laughed, "He shoulda waited a few minutes to get on!"
I was worried that I wouldn't get to school on time, as work got out at 5pm, it took about fifteen minutes to walk to the stop, I waited another ten minutes, and then the bus finally came close to 5:30pm. Class was at 5:45, and the ride itself only took five or ten minutes, so worrying was needless. Still, if I wanted to make a habit out of riding, I could reschedule my 5pm days for days in which I don't have class.
I headed back out to the bus stop when class was over. The sign at the stop said 9 and 10. I forgot to see how late the 9 ran before I left work, but that was the one closest to my house, so I decided to wait for it to come around. The 10 came and left. Another student came out to the stop to wait for the 10. I didn't tell her she'd just missed it because the magic of public transportation is that, soon enough, there'll be another Number 10 (I figure if there are two 12s, then CDTA is capable of anything short of turning water into wine).
We talked about numbers. In one day, I've learned a whole new language. "Well, I could take the 12, but technically I'm closer to Western, so the 10 is better."
The student clearly liked taking the bus. When she started talking about how you just show your little card and the driver magically drops you off at your stop, no worries, no frets, I knew I'd struck up the right conversation. I egged her on a little.
"Yeah, I'm kinda new to this. I lived on a farm, not many buses running out there. But once gas got to $3.25, I just decided to try it."
She was thrilled. "You know, people say it's so much more convenient to drive, but it's really not. I mean, you have to worry about parking, and getting hit, and red lights... And like in the bad weather, if you're in an accident, it's so much money. It's better just to get on and not have to worry about it."
She was a woman after my own heart, as they say. Having totaled two cars (OK, the same car twice) in winter weather, I dread winter driving. Another plus to bus riding.
The 10 still hadn't come back before the 11 arrived, which was also going her way, so she left and we said good night.
The 9 never came, and the 10 still hadn't come back before the 11 rolled around again. I asked the driver if he was just going straight up Western, and upon his silent "Yes, Dummy" reply, got on the bus. I figured I might as well just walk the few blocks home from Western, and it wasn't so bad, though the side streets weren't very well lit. I never noticed it in the car. Having been mugged a number of years before, I'm a little leary of any street where I can't hear or see everything going on around me.
The very cool thing, however, is that on that last stretch of today's commute, I realized that I was facing my fears and becoming more connected with my environment. In my car, I go from one isolated environment to another. In walking and taking the bus, I saw more, talked to more people, became more aware of sights and sounds, and just had more time to think. In giving up the freedom of time, I gained the freedom of sensation. It was kind of nice.
OH, IT'S ON...
Made it! This morning on the way out the door, my roommate Eric said he was going to email the link to my “Riding The Bus” blog to his friends so I can serve as a public example for why people should drive cars to work. Rest assured, no cars ran me down on Washington Ave., and no one mugged me.
I walked the first leg of the commute because I didn’t feel like taking two buses. I walked a full half hour between catching the bus and getting off too late, and had a lot of time to think about my public transportation experience becoming too private. Tomorrow, I’ll be less project-defeating and take two buses. On a positive note, I didn’t think I’d make it to the gym today, so I’m pleased to have met my exercise quota as well. Who said I wasn’t a good multi-tasker? If I keep this up, my pants will fit again. Two thumbs up to taking the bus.
Couple notes:
- Just around the corner from my house, one of the neighbors rode by on his bicycle and called out, “Not driving today?” I proudly called back, “Nope! Not today!” I was skipping along thinking I should have said, “I’m saving the environment!” Then I realized I was smoking a cigarette. Leaving my cigarettes home is a whole other blog (but I may just tackle it yet).
- There was a sign on the bus that read, “Save Cash on Gas – Only a Buck a Ride.” I may be a sucker for advertising, but I’ve still got coffee money in my pocket.
- Riders on the bus were almost evenly split between student-aged riders and upper-middle-aged riders. Not many riders in between those ages.
- While I was waiting to cross four lanes of traffic on the State Campus, another Number Twelve passed me. Tomorrow I have to remember to take the bus going to the Campus, and not the one passing it on the way to Collins Circle. It’ll save me seven minutes of walking.
- Performance Anxiety. I failed to pull the Stop Request cord and the driver sailed by my building. While I was thinking about a good time to pull it, another passenger pulled it. Otherwise, my morning commute could have turned into me riding the T back and forth in Boston all over again; or riding the elevator at work those times I forget to hit the button.
Monday, November 12, 2007
A DAY LATE AND A DOLLAR SHORT
I jinxed myself yesterday by saying I wasn't sure if I'd actually be able to get on the bus today. I give myself a little credit for trying, though.
Last night I printed all the bus schedules of any routes I thought I might need to get me from Albany to my dental appointment in Colonie, and then from Colonie to my job back in Albany. The issue wasn't getting to Colonie; that was the easiest part. It was that I couldn't figure out how to get from the office on Central Ave. to Rt. 155 to the State Office Campus to walk the rest of the way to my job; and somehow manage to do it all by 11:30 a.m.I had a guilty moment in the car thinking about it, but decided the inconvenience of getting to work on time (you know what I mean) was part of the whole equation. Maybe small-city public transportation can't be one's sole source of transportation, especially if one's operating community is established based on car travel.
I could have just overlooked something on one of the maps, but for the sake of argument, let's say I didn't. Is it that we've gotten so used to car travel that we've created communities too dispersed to get around quickly? Is it that it smaller municipalities don't have the money or the space to create a more tightly knit transportation system? Or am I just an idiot that can't read a map? (If you know my tendency to read maps backward, don't answer that.)
So that was day one. I'm sorry I don't have more to report; however, what kind of bloggist would I be if I didn't leave with a little public transportation history? With that said, some notes:
- An article that appeared in TIME Magazine in 1984 proclaimed "Mass transit is on the move." Author, Susan Tifft, reported a trend in cities like Baltimore and Atlanta to create new subways and light rail systems, explaining the trend's roots stemmed in part from the 1973 Arab Oil Embargo. (Tifft)
- Interestingly, the article suggests that part of the reason light rail and subway systems were gaining popularity was prestige. Jack Gilstrap, executive vice president of the American Public Transit Association, said, "When businesses decide where to locate, they look for a city that works well. Good mass transit is both evidence and a symbol of that." He also stated that mass transit reduced traffic congestion, encouraged commercial growth, and helped control pollution. (Tifft)
- Some cities that relied mostly on buses for mass transit rerouted many of them to subway stations, lessening rush-hour congestion. (Tifft)
The subjects of the two articles are different, but contrast that with a current TIME Magazine article in which International Energy Agency (IEA) chief economist Fatih Birol cautions that:
- Economic development will raise global energy demands by 50% in a generation. (Walt)
- Not enough is being done to prepare for the increase (Walt), and
- The burden is not likely to be temporary. (Walt)
- Birol suggests, "If you want to lower prices you have to slow down oil demand growth in China and India, use cars more efficiently, use biofuels, and also convince producing countries to pump more oil." (Walt)
In 1984, the Oil Embargo was discussed as an isolated incident with rippling effects through local communities. more emphasis was put on what communities and local governments could do to control pollution and maintain energy costs. In 2007, we're on the verge of another oil crisis, the problem is global, and emphasis isn't being placed on lifestyle changes, but on (bio)technological changes. In 1984, cities were encouraging people to ride the rails to conserve fuel. In 2007, economists are encouraging people to drive more efficient cars. It leaves me wondering if efforts to use fuel more efficiently in 1984 plateaued, stifling progess; or if local solutions proposed in 1984 were insufficient in preventing another crisis.
Sources:
Susan Tifft. "Mass Transit Makes a Comeback." TIME Monday, January 16, 1984. http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,921487-1,00.html
Vivienne Walt. "Oil Prices: It Gets Worse." TIME Wednesday, November 07, 2007. http://www.time.com/time/business/article/0,8599,1681362,00.html?iid=sphere-inline-bottom
Sunday, November 11, 2007
START-UP COSTS
Just a quick note. Last Friday, I bought 5 gallons of gas at $3.29, for a total of $16.50. It gave me about a half of a tank. So far, I've driven 20-30 miles; thus I'm not starting at 0 miles with the car if I have to drive it.
Also, I just purchased a 7-day Swiper online at www.cdta.org. CDTA will mail it to me, which means tomorrow I'll have to pay using cash. I'll probably get a $3 day pass. Otherwise it's a dollar every time you get on a different bus, and I'll probably have to take more than one bus each way to work. The 7-day Swiper cost $44.00 (no tax) for the month.
If I generally fill my tank once a week, taking the bus is already cheaper. I'll toss that out there as my first personal benefit.
Also, I just purchased a 7-day Swiper online at www.cdta.org. CDTA will mail it to me, which means tomorrow I'll have to pay using cash. I'll probably get a $3 day pass. Otherwise it's a dollar every time you get on a different bus, and I'll probably have to take more than one bus each way to work. The 7-day Swiper cost $44.00 (no tax) for the month.
If I generally fill my tank once a week, taking the bus is already cheaper. I'll toss that out there as my first personal benefit.
PRE-PROJECT JITTERS AND LAST MINUTE NOTES
I start Riding the Bus tomorrow. You'd think the night before I start tracking miles and expenses on the bus versus my car, I'd have more ground rules established. Unfortunately, I'm not that organized. I've decided that as of tomorrow, I'm not going to use my car for the entire work week unless I have an emergency. On the other hand, I have a dentist appointment in Colonie first thing in the morning. Is that an emergency? My alarm clock will probably tell me.
Starting tomorrow morning, and continuing until the end of November, I'm leaving my car home and using only public forms of transportation because:
- Gas finally reached $3.25/gallon, and it's expected to climb higher (relatively soon).
- I want to know if I can live without a car in a small-city.
- I want to fully understand the personal benefits and drawbacks to giving up some freedom of mobility.
- I want to know if it's realistic to change the way I live for the greater good.
- I want to know if using public transportation has a positive effect on "the greater good."
A couple people tried to talk me out of doing this, pointing out the fact that I work full-time and go to school part-time, and leaving myself at the mercy of a the Capital District Transit Authority isn't the most practical or efficient way to spend my time. When have I ever been practical or efficient? (FYI, to justify doing it now, I'm writing a final paper in one of my classes on public transportation).
Really, that's the point. I'm doing this under the notion that we've created a society where individualism, entitlement, and instant gratification have all but obliterated any sense of community or sacrifice. The reason some people have told me to wait until winter break to give up my car is that there's a common understanding that public transportation should only supplement car travel (in a global sense). If one's community stretches beyond walking distance (in my mind, walking distance is two miles, but you can fight me on that), then getting from Point A to Point B often involves a lot of time waiting for the next bus, or switching routes. Most people either aren't willing to do that, or aren't able to do that. When my car broke down last month, I had to take the bus to a doctor's appointment in Slingerlands (from Albany). It takes twelve minutes by car to get there. It took me an hour by bus; and then another hour and a half to get back because I missed the first bus walking to the stop. I had the day off from work, and I did miss school that night (more because I was getting my car towed than because I was still en route). The point is, I had to give up convenience that day; tomorrow I'm giving it up because I want to. There's a pretty big difference in that.
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