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.