In the Bus Bag
Writing My Wrongs: Life, Death, and Redemption in an American Prison, by Shaka Senghor
Tag Archives: living the life
This morning, a young woman got on the 8 with her knitting and sparked a bus-wide discussion. It started with the old ladies sitting near her in the front, then spread to the women further back, and eventually, to the punk-rock guy sitting next to me in the third row. Folks wanted to know what she was making (a scarf–it’s the only thing she’s mastered in two years of lessons) and how long it had taken her (two months so far). I got off mid-discussion, so I missed her tales of adventures in crocheting.
Last night, on the …
Today we took a trip to a Wolverine den in Issaquah for the big game. It didn’t go as well as Bus Nerd and his fellow alums had hoped, but at least I got to check out the new and improved Eastgate Park & Ride.
And then, on the 271 back to Seattle, there were the two old guys sitting in the front, trading stories of ailments and listening wistfully to the celebratory noises from the group of young men heading out for the night.
Old guy 1: “When I hear those young guys laughing, it makes …
Montlake Freeway Station, 8:45 AM:
A very large man in a (very red) Ohio State sweatshirt is standing in the shelter when we arrive. Bus Nerd, a (runner-slim) UM grad, defiantly unzips his jacket to reveal a Michigan fleece.
Bus Nerd, to me: “The battle lines are drawn.”
I’m heading out to a party tonight (27+28), despite the fact that I’ve been under the weather since Monday. (Red wine might be just the medicine I need.) In honor, last week’s Real Change column:
I have great empathy for my fellow Seattleites who are struggling to shake their addiction to cars. I know quite well how difficult it is to kick a powerful habit. How? Because, dear readers, I, too, struggle with an addiction — to my flat iron.
That perfectly smooth, bone-straight look I’m rockin’ in the picture next to my byline? That look required …
Hot: Bus shelters with glass walls
Not: Shelters with no walls–or the mesh replacements that the let the wind in
Really not: Stops without shelters
Hot: Buses with working heaters (and drivers who turn them on)
Not: Buses with broken heaters
Really not: Passengers who open windows on days you can see your breath
Hot: Stylish, waterproof gloves that allow for maximum dexterity
Not: Big ol’, cumbersome mittens
Really not: Forgetting gloves or mittens on the bus
This month, I’ve been helping out a friend with a project that has required me to make several trips to Ballard. Normally, I take the 27 (or the 4) downtown and then catch the 17 or 18, but this morning I broke my rule about transferring (choose the itinerary that provides the most options at the transfer point) and tried the 48+44 route that Trip Planner suggested. I let love (wanted to ride the 48 with Bus Nerd like I usually do) and curiosity (never ridden the 44 before) get in the way of my own good sense, and …
In January, I wrote:
Yesterday, in the spirit of celebrating the Seahawks’ first playoff win in over 20 years, DBH [known to PI readers as Bus Nerd] and I decided to brave the rain and go out to one of our favorite restaurants. As we waited for the bus after dinner, I noticed a half-eaten bag of chips on the ledge underneath the display window of a neighboring store. I would have assumed it was litter, but the bag was rolled down neatly and placed out of the direct sight of passersby, as if someone …
Way back in June, Sean98125 posed this question:
“Just out of curiosity – how many of the dedicated non-car owners here are raising kids?”
Recently, I asked my friend Coby (aka Bus Chick’s favorite rock star) to weigh in. Coby was a bus-based dad for several years and has only recently begun using a car (a gift from a friend who no longer needed it), so he’s well qualified to speak on the subject. Here’s what he had to say:
As far as the bus-based life with a kid goes, it’s obviously a bit less …
Yesterday, I caught a late-evening 55 at the layover location at the beginning (or end, depending on which way you’re going) of the route. The driver was on a break–chillin’ inside the bus with the doors closed, deeply engrossed in a book. He was so engrossed, in fact, that he didn’t notice me standing at the stop. He kept reading right up until it was time for him to take off, then closed the book and started pulling away without opening the doors. I caught him before he got away, but I wasn’t nearly as concerned about being left behind …
On my way home today, I had the rare good fortune to find an open double seat on the westbound 545. The seat was just a few rows back from the reserved section, a perfect location–except that it happened to be directly in front of one occupied by two of the funkiest individuals (stale cigarettes + alcohol + BO) ever to ride the route. I had to hold my breath (with the exception of a few desperate gasps inside my jacket) all the way to Montlake.
Note to self…