mercredi, mars 29, 2006

Am I a Transportation Snob?

My mom got the letter in the mail... the one I've never gotten but the one my father salivates at: Jury Duty.

(For the record, anyone who wants to make jury duty a quick, painless pursuit never met my father. Juror and respondent. Not only does he pick apart the logic and not let anyone dumb over things, he just simply won't stand decisions that make nice. Good for Pa.)

So mom gets a rider notice about Where To Park. Which is in a word: Nowhere. Leave your car at home and take the bus, then take our shuttle. This is just not going to happen.

My mother looked afraid because she knows as well as I do that being on a bus nowadays is not nearly as pleasant as it was even as recently as the 80's. Have you ridden the bus lately? If you even remotely smell of being normal and well adjusted, you are subject to taunts and ridicule. Just look at the people who are waiting on the corners for the bus regardless of hour.

This is a midwestern thing, by the way. I have taken public transport in many parts of the country, and even further, many parts of the world. At all hours. It's just not the same here for some reason. My explanation? If you're normal here, achieve any type of success, or if you're at all ambitious, aggressive, or at all forward thinking, it's interpreted as threatening and you should feel guilty about your normality. (Is this the karma of our populist/socialist past?)


"Mom," I said: I'll use my PTO time at work and take you there each day and pick you up.

She hugged me.

Regardless of circumstance Mom never hugs without a little mist, she's not a huggy person. Huggy is my role in our family of cool Aquarians.

Maybe it's part of the reversal of caretaking but there is no way any mother of mine will be subjected to the bus system here. And if I can help it, she never will. Now that I am established I generally don't have to bother with it myself anymore but if I did, this little out-of-place looking blonde would be subject to all the taunts the city has to offer. I can deal with that though, because of how I grew up and my teen years.

But do I have to? To quote a recent post by another blogger:

"Oh, Hell No."

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