Christmas shopping almost made me late for work, but I still managed to catch the bus and get to work on time. I admit I considered driving, but between my commitment to keep my car parked and the thought of driving home in the snow convinced me not to drive.
I went into a meeting at ten o'clock and there was nothing on the ground. When I came out at eleven, the snow was coming down hard and the parking lot was covered. It snowed steadily the rest of the day, and when I signed-out at five o'clock, I was glad I left my boots under the desk last Monday.
Again, the worst part of the whole trip home was walking up the campus ramp in the dark, this time, slippery and snow-covered.
I waited a half hour for the 12 to come down Washington. According to the alerts on CDTA.org, all the routes were running about a half hour behind, so I really didn't have to wait that long.
Whereas the buses usually have ample seating, the 12 was standing room only. I held onto the bar just behind the driver for the first half of the ride downtown, and moved, for the first time ever, into the Rosa Parks memorial seat when one woman got off around Albany High.
I usually take the 12, get off halfway downtown, and walk the few remaining blocks south to my apartment. It was hard to walk in the snow, though, and I wanted to stop at the corner store near my place, so I rode all the way down to Washington and Lark and waited for the 13 to come around, figuring I'd ride the rest of the way and get off right in front of the store.
Two 13s were stopped on Lark street going the other way when I first got there. I thought about running over to see if they were going toward New Scotland or in the other direction, but the driver was occupied pushing a man in a wheelchair. He pushed the chair through the bank left by the plows and I heard him say, "Here ya go. Ya got it?"
The man in the wheelchair waved back up at him, pushed the wheels, and went nowhere. The bus driver pushed him further into the road, but the man still couldn't wheel himself across the intersection. Another man took the chair from the bus driver, who turned to get back on his bus. They had to wait through the next light, but then he pushed the man through the intersection, past the bus stop, and down the hill on Lark. It didn't seem like the men knew each other, but from where I was standing, it looked like he was going to wheel him all the way home. He would have had to if he didn't to send the man in the chair to an early death. As it was, they were sliding down the hill at a swift runner's pace.
When the 55 stopped, three-quarters of the people waiting for the bus lined up at the curve. There was standing room only on the 55, too. The bus driver shouted for people on the bus to move in and make room for the other to get on. She still only allowed about half the crowd on the bus and announced to the rest of the people waiting that another bus was coming in ten minutes.
Their prayers were answered five minutes later; two 55s came up the hill, and five minutes after that, another 55, like CDTA was producing 55s out of thin air.
Not long after that, I ran into my friend, Ronnie. He told me his Asian housemate was stuck in their driveway at home. She called him at work to tell him. He said he had to keep from laughing because she was so flustered, she sounded like Margaret Cho's mother.
I was surprised to see him since he lives in a rural town too far outside Albany to take the bus. He explained that there's so little affordable parking downtown, so he parks uptown and rides to work.
While we were talking, a woman in a coat caught our attention and shouted, "The buses are coming up the hill!" We looked around the corner. Two buses were coming up the hill on Lark. I looked to make sure the man in the wheelchair wasn't stuck under one of the buses, but he and his traffic aide were long gone. I didn't exactly know why it was a big deal the buses were coming up the hill, but the people around me, who actually knew what was going on (this is a common theme in my life) chattered to each other about the buses not being able to make it up "that hill" (Washington), and wondered if they needed to get on the other side of the road.
Ronnie pointed out that the second bus was sliding, and when I looked, the bus was horizontal across both lanes in the road. He righted himself only to slide the other way until finally he got up the hill by driving on the wrong side of the road. That seemed to work until the other light turned green and a woman in a sedan turned down Lark and got in his way. She lifted up her hands in the universal "What are you doing?" gesture and sat there in a fierce face-off with the bus.
The people at the bus stop yelled at her to back up. She could not be deterred.
A man ran to her window. She put her car in reverse and got stuck, and the man pushed her back as far as he could until the driver got back into the right lane and turned the corner. When the bus passed, she held up her hands to the driver again.
I turned to Ronnie. "I should have been a better Samaritan."
Someone overheard me and said, "I don't get paid to direct traffic." I laughed. On one hand, he had a point. I probably would have just gotten in the way. As it was, drivers waiting to go through the light honked and yelled at the man who pushed the car back up the hill, and when it was over, he yelled back, even at a cop, unrewarded, out of breath, red-faced.
On the other hand, with everyone all stuck in the snow trying to get out of the intersection, I witnessed more cooperation among strangers than I generally witness on easier travel days; and the people that received the help looked, overall, happy to get it.
The 13 finally came, but I was on the wrong side of the street. Luckily the bus stopped for a few minutes on Lark and I was able to get across the street and onto the bus that would finally take me home. Overall, I think I spent almost an hour waiting at Washington and Lark, entertaining myself watching the cars fight to get through intersection.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
STRAPPED ON MY BOOTS AND HIT THE ICY ROAD
I had to take a week's hiatus from public transit last week. Between doctors' appointments, assignments due, group meetings, and my full-time job, there was no way I could rely on the wait and walking times required for bus riding.
In some ways, it was nice to be in my car again. Mostly because I could sing Christmas songs at on I-85 with my window down. They don't let you do that on the bus.
Driving was also a time-saver, as mentioned above. So far, the shortest time it's taken me to get to work on the bus was 45 minutes. Living only three minutes away means driving instead of riding saves me at least a half hour I could use to drop off my laundry or pick up some groceries on my way to work or an appointment.
On the other hand, I felt guilty about it. It felt frivolous, especially the day when I drove my car around the State Campus for twelve minutes just because I needed to get away from desk.
I was back at it today, however. It was a crazy day to start riding again. The storm last night covered every walkable inch of pavement with a sheet of ice by this morning. I almost fell three times just walking out the back door.
In this way, I was thankful for cars. Albany salts the roads for cars. It doesn't for pedestrians. Dark and slippery or not, I decided it was safer to walk in the road than it was to walk on the sidewalk.
Because of the weather, I took three perfectly timed buses to work, instead of walking further uptown and riding just one. Waiting was minimal, and so was walking, and as an added benefit, I didn't have to scrape my car. As a result, I was in a much better mood when I got to work.
For the record, I wore hiking boots. I have to tell you that because my grandmother scolded me when I talked to her later in the day. She asked if I drove. I told her I took the bus. She said, "You could have gotten killed!"
I calmly explained that I was safer in my sneakers than I was in a car.
"You didn't wear boots!"
Grandmothers are always concerned about wet hair and shoe attire. I, in fact, was wearing boots this morning, but sneakers came out of my mouth when I was talking to her. Sometimes I pick the wrong word.
However, don't tell Gram that I walked home after work. I was undecided about whether or not I'd ride home or walk, but when I got to Washington Avenue, I couldn't find my wallet in my bag, which meant I had no swiper and no cash. Also don't tell her that I was wearing sneakers. I forgot I changed my shoes when I got to work.
Regardless, I made it home OK. The same time as my roommate, as a matter of fact, who'd driven from Rensselaer.
In some ways, it was nice to be in my car again. Mostly because I could sing Christmas songs at on I-85 with my window down. They don't let you do that on the bus.
Driving was also a time-saver, as mentioned above. So far, the shortest time it's taken me to get to work on the bus was 45 minutes. Living only three minutes away means driving instead of riding saves me at least a half hour I could use to drop off my laundry or pick up some groceries on my way to work or an appointment.
On the other hand, I felt guilty about it. It felt frivolous, especially the day when I drove my car around the State Campus for twelve minutes just because I needed to get away from desk.
I was back at it today, however. It was a crazy day to start riding again. The storm last night covered every walkable inch of pavement with a sheet of ice by this morning. I almost fell three times just walking out the back door.
In this way, I was thankful for cars. Albany salts the roads for cars. It doesn't for pedestrians. Dark and slippery or not, I decided it was safer to walk in the road than it was to walk on the sidewalk.
Because of the weather, I took three perfectly timed buses to work, instead of walking further uptown and riding just one. Waiting was minimal, and so was walking, and as an added benefit, I didn't have to scrape my car. As a result, I was in a much better mood when I got to work.
For the record, I wore hiking boots. I have to tell you that because my grandmother scolded me when I talked to her later in the day. She asked if I drove. I told her I took the bus. She said, "You could have gotten killed!"
I calmly explained that I was safer in my sneakers than I was in a car.
"You didn't wear boots!"
Grandmothers are always concerned about wet hair and shoe attire. I, in fact, was wearing boots this morning, but sneakers came out of my mouth when I was talking to her. Sometimes I pick the wrong word.
However, don't tell Gram that I walked home after work. I was undecided about whether or not I'd ride home or walk, but when I got to Washington Avenue, I couldn't find my wallet in my bag, which meant I had no swiper and no cash. Also don't tell her that I was wearing sneakers. I forgot I changed my shoes when I got to work.
Regardless, I made it home OK. The same time as my roommate, as a matter of fact, who'd driven from Rensselaer.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION SURVEY RESULTS
Please note that the results of this survey may not be representative of the population at large. I posted the link on MySpace and Facebook, and sent an email to a number of contacts in my address book asking people to take the survey. Twenty-two people responded and eighteen people completed the survey; so view the results within the parameters of the pool of responses, as they likely were from people I knew personally, and thus more likely to share experiences and have other demographic similarities. Rather, view the results as a snapshot of what some folks in Albany have to say about public transportation, and compare it with your own feelings. I'm all about feelings at "Riding the Bus."
Additionally, my mother issued a formal complaint on Thanksgiving, advising me that the survey was set-up wrong because if you hadn't used public transportation in the past year, there was no point in continuing.
I apologize for that, as I would have liked whatever feedback respondents had to provide. My purpose in limiting usage questions to the past year was that I wanted to know how people felt about public transportation as it is now, as opposed to how it may have been five or ten or twenty years ago. Even though the survey is officially closed, if you have more to add, by all means, shoot me an email (robyn.torres@gmail.com), or leave a comment. I always like to hear what people have to say, and I'm pretty good about remembering to post it.
That being said, onto the results:
1. What is your age?
All respondents were between the ages of 18-64, with the greatest number of those (n=15, or 68%) in the 18-34 age group. 6 people were between the ages of 35-54, and 1 person was in the 55-64 age group.
2. What is your gender?
5 males (22.7%) and 17 females (77.3%) took the survey.
3. In what type of setting do you live?
10 respondents reported living in a suburban area (45.5%), while 6 each reported living in an urban environment or a rural environment. While the bulk of respondents lived in the suburbs, the majority of respondents lived at one end of the population spectrum or the other.
4. Do you have access to a car?
21 respondents (95.5%) reported always having access to a car, while one person reported almost never having access to a car. Everyone, however, had some level of access.
5. What type of public transportation have you used in the past year?
Just over half of the respondents (54.5%) said they had not used public transportation in the past year. Of the remaining half, 36.4% used the subway, 22.7% used a commuter train, and 27.3% rode a bus. Rail commuting, then, was most the most prevalent method of transportation respondents used in the past year at 59.1%. One person (4.5%) said they used airplanes and taxis.
6. If you have used public transportation in the past year, has it been to go to/from:
Most people said they used transportation for leisure activities (7 respondents, or 58.3%), followed by work (4 respondents, or 33.3%). Shopping was third on the list, with two respondents (16.7%), followed by school and non-work related appointments at 8.3% each. Other responses included vacation and frequent flying for non-specified purposes (the respondent said s/he hit the button by accident and was just trying to move to the next question).
7. Would you say it was convenient to use public transportation?
5 people (38.5%) said it was mostly convenient to use public transportation, while 3 said it was "not really" convenient. 1 person said it was definitely convenient to use public transportation, and 1 person said it was not convenient at all. Two respondents selected "Other": one commented "No idea where the bus is going;" and the other wrote, "Would have to get up an hour earlier each day to use it, so instead I have to drive to the city I work in then take public transportation from my car to my job. I work two jobs and if I was only able to rely on public
transportation I would have no way home at night after the second job and would be stranded having to pay a taxi more than I make at the second job to get me back home."
Based on the answers listed above, most people fall in the middle with regard to their feelings about the convenience of using public transportation. While one person had very positive feelings, the others' comments would suggest that they felt using public transportation was either confusing or not reliable for someone with a hectic schedule.
8. Would you use public transportation again?
85.7% (n=12) responded yes; 7.1% (n=1) responded no. One respondent wrote, "Only if I had to." Overall, many more respondents said they would use public transportation again.
9. Would you ever stop using your car to use public transportation?
Over half of the respondents, or 55.6%, said they would not stop using their car to take public transportation. 27.8% said they would, and the remaining 16.7% were undecided.
10. What, if anything, would cause you to use public transportation more than you already do?
10 people answered the question. 2 said nothing would cause them to use it more, while 1 was unsure. 1 person wrote, "If I worked more than twice a week," perhaps indicating lack of incentive. 3 people said they would use it more if they had better access to it. 2 people said they would be more motivated to use public transportation if they became "totally sick of putting money into my car," or if they couldn't afford to drive anymore. 1 person would use it more with "better information, park and ride, safety issues."
Conclusion: All in all, most of the people who took the survey would use public transportation again or thought it was relatively convenient, but they wouldn't give up driving unless they absolutely had to because driving was easier, more convenient, less confusing, or they had more access to a car than they did to public transportation. If transit usage were to increase dramatically, transit systems would probably have to make it easier and less confusing to ride. No one argued that it was cheaper to drive a car; they were just willing to pay more for greater convenience. Ironically, people usually pay for things they don't have to do themselves. In this case, the service was less helpful than [good old-fashioned] self-reliance.
Additionally, my mother issued a formal complaint on Thanksgiving, advising me that the survey was set-up wrong because if you hadn't used public transportation in the past year, there was no point in continuing.
I apologize for that, as I would have liked whatever feedback respondents had to provide. My purpose in limiting usage questions to the past year was that I wanted to know how people felt about public transportation as it is now, as opposed to how it may have been five or ten or twenty years ago. Even though the survey is officially closed, if you have more to add, by all means, shoot me an email (robyn.torres@gmail.com), or leave a comment. I always like to hear what people have to say, and I'm pretty good about remembering to post it.
That being said, onto the results:
1. What is your age?
All respondents were between the ages of 18-64, with the greatest number of those (n=15, or 68%) in the 18-34 age group. 6 people were between the ages of 35-54, and 1 person was in the 55-64 age group.
2. What is your gender?
5 males (22.7%) and 17 females (77.3%) took the survey.
3. In what type of setting do you live?
10 respondents reported living in a suburban area (45.5%), while 6 each reported living in an urban environment or a rural environment. While the bulk of respondents lived in the suburbs, the majority of respondents lived at one end of the population spectrum or the other.
4. Do you have access to a car?
21 respondents (95.5%) reported always having access to a car, while one person reported almost never having access to a car. Everyone, however, had some level of access.
5. What type of public transportation have you used in the past year?
Just over half of the respondents (54.5%) said they had not used public transportation in the past year. Of the remaining half, 36.4% used the subway, 22.7% used a commuter train, and 27.3% rode a bus. Rail commuting, then, was most the most prevalent method of transportation respondents used in the past year at 59.1%. One person (4.5%) said they used airplanes and taxis.
6. If you have used public transportation in the past year, has it been to go to/from:
Most people said they used transportation for leisure activities (7 respondents, or 58.3%), followed by work (4 respondents, or 33.3%). Shopping was third on the list, with two respondents (16.7%), followed by school and non-work related appointments at 8.3% each. Other responses included vacation and frequent flying for non-specified purposes (the respondent said s/he hit the button by accident and was just trying to move to the next question).
7. Would you say it was convenient to use public transportation?
5 people (38.5%) said it was mostly convenient to use public transportation, while 3 said it was "not really" convenient. 1 person said it was definitely convenient to use public transportation, and 1 person said it was not convenient at all. Two respondents selected "Other": one commented "No idea where the bus is going;" and the other wrote, "Would have to get up an hour earlier each day to use it, so instead I have to drive to the city I work in then take public transportation from my car to my job. I work two jobs and if I was only able to rely on public
transportation I would have no way home at night after the second job and would be stranded having to pay a taxi more than I make at the second job to get me back home."
Based on the answers listed above, most people fall in the middle with regard to their feelings about the convenience of using public transportation. While one person had very positive feelings, the others' comments would suggest that they felt using public transportation was either confusing or not reliable for someone with a hectic schedule.
8. Would you use public transportation again?
85.7% (n=12) responded yes; 7.1% (n=1) responded no. One respondent wrote, "Only if I had to." Overall, many more respondents said they would use public transportation again.
9. Would you ever stop using your car to use public transportation?
Over half of the respondents, or 55.6%, said they would not stop using their car to take public transportation. 27.8% said they would, and the remaining 16.7% were undecided.
10. What, if anything, would cause you to use public transportation more than you already do?
10 people answered the question. 2 said nothing would cause them to use it more, while 1 was unsure. 1 person wrote, "If I worked more than twice a week," perhaps indicating lack of incentive. 3 people said they would use it more if they had better access to it. 2 people said they would be more motivated to use public transportation if they became "totally sick of putting money into my car," or if they couldn't afford to drive anymore. 1 person would use it more with "better information, park and ride, safety issues."
Conclusion: All in all, most of the people who took the survey would use public transportation again or thought it was relatively convenient, but they wouldn't give up driving unless they absolutely had to because driving was easier, more convenient, less confusing, or they had more access to a car than they did to public transportation. If transit usage were to increase dramatically, transit systems would probably have to make it easier and less confusing to ride. No one argued that it was cheaper to drive a car; they were just willing to pay more for greater convenience. Ironically, people usually pay for things they don't have to do themselves. In this case, the service was less helpful than [good old-fashioned] self-reliance.
MY VERY OFFICIAL SWIPER. NOW I KNOW WHAT WINTER BRINGS
I bought my CDTA Swiper online during the second week of November, figuring I'd get it and it would be effective for thirty days starting from the day they received my payment. Based on the dates on the back of the card, it actually didn't become effective until today.
I had to drive to work yesterday because I took too long fiddling around with my new self-bought Christmas present (a laptop; but you can read about my strange laptop love elsewhere). I felt guilty about driving for frivolous reasons since I was still officially engaged in my experiment; and my swiper wasn't even effective yet. Between that and the twenty-five pounds I've gained since last year, I thought it might be a good idea to leave my car at work and walk home.
I had to pick up my car today so it won't hamper the snow plow if Albany gets the 6-8 inches of snow tomorrow currently predicted on the news. Since I had a homework assignment to hand-in, I decided to make an afternoon of it. I waited a while for the 13 but it never came. I didn't check the schedule beforehand, so I don't really know if was running infrequently, or if it was not running at all. Too cold to stand there like a fool in my puffy blue coat, I walked to the downtown campus only to find the room where I needed to turn in my assignment was locked; but it was twenty-minutes of walking I really needed after sitting at my desk all day.
When I walked out of the building, the Number 12 going uptown was approaching.
Unfortunately, I don't run for buses anymore. Especially when I'm wearing a backpack. It makes me look like a dork, and I try to look like a dork as little as possible now. Because it was Saturday, however, my anti-dork sentiments left me waiting about a half hour or more for the next Number 12.
Not that waiting is unpleasant; but waiting in the cold at dusk between a campus abandoned for the weekend and Arbor Hill is sort of unpleasant.
The bus came and dropped me off at the last stop before the ramp to I-85. Trekking down the ramp in the cold, and then across the wide open parking lot with the wind puffing up my hood like a balloon, I groaned, thinking, "This is what awaits me this winter." I'm committed to doing it, though, even if it means getting a heavy pair of boots and a ski mask (they're not just for Halloween anymore!). Again, I assessed the difference between wanting to ride the bus and having to ride the bus, and I felt momentarily sympathetic for those people that don't have any other option - namely, poor, elderly, and disabled people.
More advantaged people ride CDTA, of course, but when you look at the statistics, the people using their services the most are the people who don't really have any other choice. It's an unfortunate set of circumstances. It creates a stigma that, as far as I can tell, hasn't really been erased locally. Public transportation is not only inconvenient, it's not pretty either. As status symbols go, I'm hard pressed to find CDTA usage on the list. Even a hybrid CDTA.
I had to drive to work yesterday because I took too long fiddling around with my new self-bought Christmas present (a laptop; but you can read about my strange laptop love elsewhere). I felt guilty about driving for frivolous reasons since I was still officially engaged in my experiment; and my swiper wasn't even effective yet. Between that and the twenty-five pounds I've gained since last year, I thought it might be a good idea to leave my car at work and walk home.
I had to pick up my car today so it won't hamper the snow plow if Albany gets the 6-8 inches of snow tomorrow currently predicted on the news. Since I had a homework assignment to hand-in, I decided to make an afternoon of it. I waited a while for the 13 but it never came. I didn't check the schedule beforehand, so I don't really know if was running infrequently, or if it was not running at all. Too cold to stand there like a fool in my puffy blue coat, I walked to the downtown campus only to find the room where I needed to turn in my assignment was locked; but it was twenty-minutes of walking I really needed after sitting at my desk all day.
When I walked out of the building, the Number 12 going uptown was approaching.
Unfortunately, I don't run for buses anymore. Especially when I'm wearing a backpack. It makes me look like a dork, and I try to look like a dork as little as possible now. Because it was Saturday, however, my anti-dork sentiments left me waiting about a half hour or more for the next Number 12.
Not that waiting is unpleasant; but waiting in the cold at dusk between a campus abandoned for the weekend and Arbor Hill is sort of unpleasant.
The bus came and dropped me off at the last stop before the ramp to I-85. Trekking down the ramp in the cold, and then across the wide open parking lot with the wind puffing up my hood like a balloon, I groaned, thinking, "This is what awaits me this winter." I'm committed to doing it, though, even if it means getting a heavy pair of boots and a ski mask (they're not just for Halloween anymore!). Again, I assessed the difference between wanting to ride the bus and having to ride the bus, and I felt momentarily sympathetic for those people that don't have any other option - namely, poor, elderly, and disabled people.
More advantaged people ride CDTA, of course, but when you look at the statistics, the people using their services the most are the people who don't really have any other choice. It's an unfortunate set of circumstances. It creates a stigma that, as far as I can tell, hasn't really been erased locally. Public transportation is not only inconvenient, it's not pretty either. As status symbols go, I'm hard pressed to find CDTA usage on the list. Even a hybrid CDTA.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
AT LEAST IT WAS CARPOOLING
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.
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.
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
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