KC Metro's changing its guidelines
I’m a member of a task force convened to evaluate and update the social equity and geographic value components of Metro’s service guidelines. There are precious few "regular" bus riders on this task force, and I think we need some in the audience. If you happen to have three hours free in the middle of a weekday, here’s the schedule of meetings. (The next one's on May 21st.)
Seattle's transportation future
This spring, SDOT is sponsoring a speaker series to explore what we Seattle can learn from other cities' transportation successes. The speaker list includes Gil Penalosa and Janette Sadik-Khan. (!)
- On busing and birthday parties (or, My brief encounter with a bus goddess)
- My kind of bus driver appreciation
- A driver holiday by any other name…
- Hear my bus a comin’
- An anniversary, a heavy baby, and an(other) angry rant
- How to pass the time at a bus stop, part VIII
- Moving beyond the margins
- Transcendental transportation
- Rider for life
- When “growing up” = getting behind the wheel
In the Bus Bag
An Indigenous Peoples' History of the United States, by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz
Monthly Archives: September 2011
Fighting a losing battle with metastatic bone cancer, Joe Briscoe has one hope — a miraculous turn in his medical treatment.
But none of that matters, the 62-year-old Detroiter said, if he can’t get to his appointments at St. John Hospital on time because of increasingly tardy buses.
“I sometimes have to wait more than two hours,” Briscoe said during a downpour at …
Back in May, Bus Nerd’s mama (aka my Gail) gave him a subscription to a Detroit city magazine for his birthday. (As you might already know, the man is rather partial to his hometown.) In last month’s issue, there was a profile of an artist who makes replicas of old-school Detroit bus scrolls.
On the old busses and streetcars passengers learned of the various stops by way of signs on …
The entire Bus Fam is walking home from the 27 after a lovely downtown shopping adventure*. On the way, we run into a young gentleman who, though possibly somewhat intoxicated, is perfectly friendly and polite.
After saying hello to all of us, he puts his fist out, at Chicklet level, and asks for a pound. Chicklet looks down at his hand, gives him her (in)famous side eye, and says, “My knuckles are hurting.”
The man shrugs off the slight and tries again, this time with an open hand. “How about a high five?” he asks.
Chicklet looks at his …