Two men sitting in the front of the bus are making small talk. A couple of minutes in, they discover that they both spent time in Arizona.
Man 1: “Where in Arizona did you live?”
Man 2: “I started out in Yuma, but then I got tired of the snowbirds and bought some property near Avondale.”
Man 1: “Yuma? Why would anyone live in Yuma?”
Man 2: “Oh, I was just stupid. But I learned. When folks from Yuma die, they ask for an extra blanket in Hell.”
Today , I rode the bus alone for the first time since Chicklet was born. (Yes, I realize that this makes me a bit pathetic, considering that my child is 12 weeks old. What can I say? She’s cute.) I have left the house without her twice–once for my birthday dinner and once for my friend Donna‘s birthday party–but Bus Nerd was with me on both occasions.
Today, I traveled solo to attend the King County Transit Advisory Committee‘s annual retreat. I wouldn’t necessarily call an extra-long meeting in our regular meeting room a retreat, especially since the room doesn’t have heat on the weekends. But I digress. It was good to commune with my fellow transit geeks without the distraction of a baby (Chicklet attended the last meeting with me), and it was especially good to ride by myself. I didn’t realize how much I missed:
• Running for the bus–not so easy with an 11-pound human strapped to one’s chest.
• Using my bus legs, also not easy (or safe) with a baby strapped on.
• Reading! I used the short rides to (27) and from (14) downtown to make progress on Acacia, a novel I started way back at the end of October.
Come March, I’ll return to work and regular solo travels. Then I’ll surely miss these months of bus adventures with my miniature riding partner.
The end of 2007 was a bit slow for blogging, as I was distracted by my new Chicklet, the holidays, and etc. I intend to get things back on track for 2008. For starters, here are some photos (taken by Bus Nerd) I meant to post over the last few weeks:
Moving furniture on the 27:
And I thought I deserved props for taking a large painting to the framer’s on the 8.
The remains of a hurried bus-stop breakfast:
Bus Nerd has been known to do this, though he tends not to leave his Tupperware behind.
A notice posted at the stop in front of Benaroya Hall:
Starting Saturday, January 5th, bike racks will not be available on some Metro Transit routes and trips. Some bike racks are being removed due to rack operating concerns. Racks will be replaces in the coming weeks as they become available.
This change affects all bus trips on routes 1, 2, 3, 4,10, 12, 13, 14, 36, 49, and 70 and some trips on routes 7, 43, and 44.
For more information, visit www.kingcounty.gov/metro.
Looks like the three-bike racks aren’t working out as well as planned.
And speaking of the Benaroya stop: Check the new solar-powered trash compactor that has replaced the standard nasty, overflowing can:
Nice.
And finally: a crowded stop near the stadium after the Seattle-Washington playoff game–back when times were still good for Seahawk fans:
Perhaps if folks had ridden the bus to Lambeau on Saturday…
Until next year, gentlemen.
Last night, on the way to her first Transportation Choices Coalition meeting, Chicklet took her first ride on the 27. The ride was definitely more thrilling for mother (whose favorite bus happens to be the 27) than it was for daughter, who slept through the ride. During her nap, Chicklet missed the chance to witness her first bus mack, one of the relatively rare driver-on-passenger variety.
At the meeting, my little chicklet received her second award in a week (the first being the November Golden Transfer): a lifetime membership in TCC. Check it:
She was less than grateful, fussing for most of the meeting and generally leaving a bad impression on the other transit types who attended. At least she was quiet on the 27 ride home.
Bus Baby has arrived!
Vitals
First name: Rosa, after Original Bus Chick
Middle name: Caroline, after my mom
Nickname: Bus Chicklet (thanks to the reader who suggested it last spring)
Birth date: 11/1/07
Birth time: 7:33 AM
Weight: 8 pounds, 7 ounces
We had planned a cab to the hospital, which is only a couple of miles from our house, and had also enlisted family and friends as backup transporters; however, because we had more warning than most people (more on that later), we managed to ride the bus to (27 + 60) and from (a short walk + 4) Miss Rosa’s delivery.
As you can imagine, Bus Nerd and I are a bit preoccupied (and tired!) right now, but I promise to share the whole story very soon.
A group of teenage boys in the back of the bus is discussing the Kanye-50 sales battle. Eventually the talk turns to battles at bit closer to home.
Teenage boy 1, to the rest of the group: “If you mess up my t-shirt or step on my shoes, that’s like pushing me in front of my girl: real disrespectful.”
This evening, as I got off the 27, the driver kneeled the bus for me. (Yes, in Bus Chick’s world, “kneel” is a transitive verb, and inanimate objects without actual knees can be “knelt.”) I’m not sure if it was because of my enormous belly or the enormous bag (full of recently purchased pillows) I was carrying, but Bus Nerd says it counts.
I really can’t explain why I’m so happy to have reached this milestone. There’s just something about the lowering of the bus (and its associated beep) that thrills me. Maybe it’s my transit geek tendencies. More likely, it’s my unfortunate obsession with low-riding cars with candy paint and ridiculous hydraulics. (What you know about switchin’ lanes on the wood grain?) Of course, there’s also the possibility that pregnancy is so tedious that any break in the monotony is a welcome distraction. But I digress.
I suppose all of us will eventually have the privilege of using bus accessibility technology, so I’m not sure why I’m in a rush. After what I witnessed a couple of months ago, I’m certainly not in any rush to try the ramp.
This morning, I stopped by the County Courthouse to see some demos of the partially wrapped buses. (The Council tabled the vote on whether to allow the partial wraps, so these demos were made available to help the members come to a decision. Members of the Transit Advisory Committee and the Accessible Services Advisory Committee were also invited to take a look.)
The partial wraps leave 15″ clear on every bus window. This looks different on different buses, depending on the size of the windows and the height of the seats. (I apologize in advance for the quality of these pictures; I have yet to replace my broken camera.)
Here’s what a partially wrapped trolley looks like:
Note: There aren’t any real ads designed for this template yet, so the folks at Metro just removed some of the vinyl from an existing ad.
Here’s a New Flyer 40-footer:
In this case, instead of altering an existing wrap, they covered the parts of the windows that would be obscured by the ad.
Here’s the view from inside the trolley:
And from the other side:
Anyone recognize the man in the red circle? Yes indeed, Busfather was there as the official driver of the 40-footer. He got to hang out for a couple of hours while the bigwigs (and regular folks like me) checked things out. Not a bad gig for a sunny Monday.
Anirudh, aka Bus Hero, who also happens to be one of my fellow TAC members, was also there.
Anirudh on the trolley:
So was my councilmember, Larry Gossett:
Y’all already know how I feel about bus revenue: I’m inclined to endure a little obscured vision every once in a while if it means more service. The good news is, the partially wrapped buses don’t obscure your vision. I could see out of all the windows, even when I hunched down to make myself shorter. (Of course, I’m not sure how a child riding alone or a person in a wheelchair would do. I’ll leave the latter to the folks at the Accessible Services Advisory Committee.)
Bottom line: We (OK, I) likey. Councilmembers, please vote “yes.”
After the bus viewing, a lovely lunch at the Gates Foundation with my friend Char (which involved a slowish ride on the 70), and a quick trip to the Real Change office, I happened upon Smooth Jazz while crossing the street on my way to catch the 27. (He was driving a bus back to the base, apparently, after finishing his shift.) I waved before I had a chance to remember that he doesn’t actually know me, and he waved back. Turns out, he does know me (and how could he not–I’ve been on his bus about 30,000 times in the past year). He said he hadn’t seen me in a while and had been wondering what I’d been up to. This, of course, made me feel very important and fabulous.
Called up the homies and Im askin yall
Which court, are yall playin basketball?
Get me on the court and Im trouble
Last week messed around and got a triple double
Freaking brothers everyway like m.j.
I cant believe, today was a good day
Way back in July (the 14th, to be exact), I witnessed a disturbing accident while traveling downtown on my beloved 27. I happened to be sitting in a window seat on the same side as the door, so I had a good view of the boardings. At 20th & Yesler, I watched as the driver lowered the ramp for a dapper, fedora-wearing older man in a fancy, electric wheelchair–the kind with shocks and a cushioned, contoured seat with armrests.
Like countless wheelchair passengers before him, the man maneuvered his chair into the correct position and began rolling up the ramp. Unlike countless wheelchair passengers before him, he didn’t make it all the way. Before his back wheels had even reached the incline, the man’s chair suddenly flipped, sending him crashing, back-first, onto the pavement.
Most of the passengers (me included) gasped and then froze, but two good Samaritans jumped out of their seats to help him. Some of the accessories (the wheel covers, for example) had come off of his chair, so it took them a few minutes to get him recombobulated and on the bus. During those minutes, they asked several times if he was OK, but he wasn’t able to do much more than nod.
The bus driver, who had, surprisingly, stayed in his seat (I vaguely remember learning in my bus driver class that they’re required to do this), called in on his radio to report the incident. The person he talked to must have said it was OK to move on, because he pulled away from the stop as soon as the man was buckled in. This I also found surprising, since most bus “incidents” I’ve witnessed (usually falls involving rainy weather and slippery aisles) have caused long delays: interviews, form signing, visits from trained medics and Metro personnel, etc.
In this case, there was no delay, even though it wasn’t clear that the victim was OK. It seemed to me that he should be taken to a hospital and observed for signs of a serious head injury, or at the very least, escorted to his destination. I stayed silent, though, worrying and wondering but doing nothing.
The man got off at Broadway. I was somewhat reassured when, on his way down the ramp, he said to the driver, “Next time, I’ll put it in low gear.”
He wasn’t hurt too badly to tell a joke. Still, I worried about him for the rest of the day, and I’ve thought about him many times since–namely, every time someone boards one of my buses using the wheelchair ramp. (Since I have no idea what caused the accident in July–Was the man’s chair defective? Did he operate it incorrectly? Did the driver lower the ramp in an unsafe location?–I have no way of predicting how likely I am to witness another.)
Today, again on the 27 (headed east this time), and again sitting in a door-side window seat, I saw the same man, in his same fancy chair, wearing the same fedora, waiting in front of some senior apartments at the edge of downtown. As the driver lowered the ramp to let him on, my stomach clenched with anxiety (or maybe it was just Bus Baby stomping on one of my vital organs). Apparently, his did, too. He grabbed his fedora with his free hand and leaned forward as far as he could before easing sloooooowly up the incline. This time, he made it just fine.
I’m pretty sure he was in low gear.
A young woman is waiting for the bus with an older woman and a little girl (possibly her mother and daughter). All are reading books just checked out from the library. After a few minutes of not talking, the young woman points to the bus stop across the street.
Young woman, to older woman: “Remember that fight I was telling you about? That’s where it happened.”
Older woman: “Oh yeah?”
YM: “She had the bombest Air Forces, and Lee stepped on them. So she was like, ‘Lee, aren’t you going to say excuse me?’ Lee said ‘no,’ so she got her a** whooped right there at the number 8 bus stop. The ambulance had to come.” [YM chuckles] “I enjoyed it.”