Planting roots, part I: Green Seattle Day
On Saturday, November 7th, join the Green Seattle Partnership (and many of your neighbors) to plant native plants in several SE Seattle parks. Volunteers will meet at Rainier Community Center (at 8:30 AM--ahem!) and then *ride buses* to the various sites. Lunch will be provided.
Planting roots, part II: A community conversation about gentrification
On Thursday, November 12th, Got Green's climate justice committee will host "Our Roots will Weather the Storm: Community Town Hall on Gentrification and Climate." Food and childcare will be provided, so you know I'll be there. ;)
- Art + buses + community = life (part II)
- Respect to those who came before, part V (Or, Why we need Indigenous People’s Day)
- On cars and community
- Buses are for everyone, part IV
- Multimodal Monday: Greenway riders
- Power to the people
- Art + buses + community = life
- A beautiful, brief ride
- On busing and birthday parties (or, My brief encounter with a bus goddess)
- My kind of bus driver appreciation
In the Bus Bag
Spiritual Ecology: The Cry of the Earth, edited by Llewellyn Vaughn-Lee
Tag Archives: 14
“I liked the way we smoked back in the day, as opposed to now; I liked sneaking it.”
A fiftysomething woman with crutches is sitting in the sideways-facing seat behind the driver, holding her nose while surveying the chaos surrounding her. She catches the eye of the woman across from her, chuckles, shakes her head, and announces to everyone within earshot, “I’ve got a get a car.”
Older gentleman waiting nearby, after some initial pleasantries: “You in love with somebody?”
Bus Chick: “I’m married.”
Older gent: “That’s not what I asked.”
Touché. And yes.
Earlier this month, I celebrated my car-free anniversary. As of March 5th (or was it the 6th?), I’m officially seven years in.
It’s been an eventful seven years. I bought a home, got married, lost my beloved mother to cancer, and had two children. Navigating so many major life events without a car in a city that all but requires one has certainly had its challenges, but it has also integrated the bus into all of my
A cell phone snippet from a young gentleman on his way to band practice:
“Yeah, I was going to try to show you my nipple.”
A 60-ish, somewhat disheveled man approaches and addresses me in several languages (Amharic, Spanish, Italian) trying to figure out which I speak. We finally settle on a mix of French and English, and (thanks to my growing belly) immediately start talking parenthood. He tells me I remind him of his daughter, who was recently married. “It was in the New York Times,” he says, fishing a crumpled piece of newsprint out of his wallet.
He points …
A bus newbie, to the driver: “Hey, do they always gas the buses up at night or something? Because I never see buses at the gas station.”
A man sitting directly behind me is chatting up the woman next to him.
Man: “Oh, you hurt your finger! Want me to kiss it and make it better?”
Man: “You know, like when you were little, and you hurt yourself, and your mom would kiss it to make it better?”
Woman: “No. Mom wasn’t around. My grandma always said, ‘quit your whining and keep moving.’”