A Note About Transportation

Aside from the poopy baby, life offers some insights.

As some of you may know, I sold my car in order to buy a motorcycle while I lived in Latin America. I sold the motorcycle so as to have a little nest egg for my son. Meaning, we don't have transportation, of the individual variety anyhow.

I would like to tell you about life without a car. It is much less expensive, for starters. Also, it is lonelier. We take the bus, and every morning see a few regulars, a few newbies, and the same great chuckling bus driver. We don't know much about each other, only that we have to get up before the sun, and that he's always late on Fridays. I don't know why. Seems improper to ask.

When you sneeze usually someone says bless you. Also, about 90% of the time there is someone thrilled to see Ezra, and Ezra is equally thrilled to receive the attention.

It's sometimes like a gospel choir in the back, people hollering out truths and opinions. This morning a young couple got on with an infant without a coat or hat. You heard the women in the back murmuring loudly about that.

Sure, the unexpected wheel chair can make you late, and sometimes the smell is horrific (especially when it rains), but overall it feels like community. I can't zip around town and get everything done. To get to one location is usually all we can take. But I like how that slows down life. Some limitations comfort me like that.

The one thing that bothers me about the bus to no end: The front seats are for elderly, or people with disabilities. I see young, spry folk there all the time! And the little old lady with the cane gets on and they don't move their butts. It drives me nuts. It's hard for me not to lecture them sometimes.

Oh, and if there's anyone out there who reads my blog who doesn't like the the Latino population (that would be weird if you were my reader), I will say that they are the best at giving up their seats for ladies, young or old.

You'll find me on the 72.