Fade

The year goes to bed

Drifting, drowning, black, bleak, down

And dreams the future

I have to say, some days are definitely better than others. Today falls into an "others" category. I am excited for it to come to a close. It's tempting to go straight to bed upon arrival home, but feel merriment at my neighbor's hands are just what the doctor ordered.

Sparse

Very few people are on board this train. Everyone has their own double seat and is either reading a book, drinking coffee, or writing a about people reading books and drinking coffee.

It's the very last day of the year. It's Tuesday. The Park'n'Ride lot was nearly empty. I will have a bagel for breakfast and likely Thai for lunch. I will get home, and more than probably dig into the face and neck region of a bottle of something I plan to drink sweet love to most of the night. 

Neighbors will make me laugh, and  my liquor will keep me warm, and the two combined will have me forgetting the wailing of my heart in the other room, which I tucked into bed earlier because it's already punch drunk in love.

Towards

As I march toward the end of the year, I think back over all that happened these last twelve months. I remember surviving a crazy situation right before Christmas, learning of a new condition known as piriformis, discovering a new definition of real pain, and thinking 2013 was going to be a terrible year. Considering 13 is my favorite number, I wondered why that might be so.

As it turns out, I just had to be patient. I met new friends, discovered trivia, traveled to Nashville for work, and met all sorts of interesting people. 

The last four months of 2013 have turned into the best of my life, and looking at 2014, these will pale in comparison to the happiness ahead. Just goes to show you that how a year begins is not always how it ends. 

I'm trying not to look around because everyone on the train is yawning. Yawning constantly. It's unreasonable! Stop it people: Don't you know it's contagious?

Blur

When you don't focus on anything as the train scrapes down the tracks, every light becomes a tracer. Even your own reflection in the window is a brown-green smudged silhouette; a ghastly cameo.

Not many people on this train but a few reading and others looking out the window while listening to their headphones.

"Poets gone wild on their muse, prophets are destroying their Tao," is wailed into my ears. It's like everyone is doing as told: go to school, get a job, produce, reproduce, consume.

"The secret dance of snakes the tales of it all," he continues. Nobody knows why we do any of this but it is the way it is done. It feels as if there is a controlling force out there laughing, laughing, laughing.

"We are the cause of a world that's gone wrong," basically covers it. Thanks Serj for the poignant lyrics.

Happy Friday: the holiday anthem of the chained.

Relative

Hearing someone extol their "life saving" $100 Christmas bonus makes me a little more grateful for my education and career choices. I remember being there, but now I just don't know... 

The problem is that the wage slavery continues at a higher level. The concept of "they pay you because they are killing you," is very true. 

I won't be happy until it am my own boss.

Aging

The older we get, the less time we spend looking for and giving a shit about finding this elusive monster known as Love. The one with the capital L. Early on we hear songs and see movies that show us that a big fantastical fairy tale just sometimes happens when we least expect it. It's just sunshine and unicorns and violin music all the time.

At some point we call horseshit on all of it and realize what we are looking for is that best friend with whom we can be intimate, connected and secretive. We want a significant other to share and laugh and enjoy life, and also be there for us in our weaker or broken times as well.

What happens when both occurs? 

Bleak

There aren't many people on this morning train. Well, maybe half the usual, so there are still quite a few.  But everyone looks tired, and as though all the red Merry has been drained out of them. 

I have a gift bag with me, but it's just a decorative lunch and a few mandarin oranges for munching at work. So my festivities are for my stomach.

I want to go back to bed. Lots. I hope my clients are all out of the office today. I can't brain today, I have "the dumb."

Into

Faux weekend ahead. I can't wait. I plan to spend it poorly probably. Thankfully I caught an airport train heading into the suburbs filled with big luggage and worn travelers. 

One seat left across from me, and an old lady and young girl eyed it at the same time. Credit the young weary dad who blocked his seven year old from sitting down, who in run blocked the nine year old. 

Once seats opened up, the three of them crammed into two seats and he pulled out three books and said, "and now we read!"

He looks 26 at most, and I like this guy. 

Story

'Twas the night before the night before Christmas, 

and all through the train, 

Not a person was conscious,

"Being Monday" to blame.

The people sat down 

With their bags and their books

And nary concern 

For ther hygiene or looks.

And with me I have 

Both my laptop and cane

And the guy to my right 

Looks both tired and insane.

The fare checker is walking

The length of the car,

Giving gifts of a fine

If your payment's subpar.

And I hope that today

Goes by quickly with haste

For at home I have whiskey

That's going to waste.

Now here ends the story 

As my stop's coming near,

Merry Christmas to all

And a Happy New Year.

Ribbed

Nike is selling jackets these days that look like a cross between a ribbed condom and a garbage bag. It's sort of an odd fashion, and one I can't seem to wrap my head around. It seems however to be something that creates bonding. Three folks just became friends because they all have a similar coat.

"Wow, I didn't know Nike Trash Prophylactics came in highlighter yellow!"

The man standing next to me is severely unwashed and unkempt. So much sweat. So much ass. I would give up my sense of smell right now if I could, but that wouldn't be enough because on some levels I can also taste it.

And two girls about 19/20 years old are discussing how the "dude" they marry someday they hope is some 50/50 race because it's "so cool." And she hopes he will show up in a year or two because that would be "so convenient."

I want to vomit more for that thought than the smell.

Obvious

Dude, really? We get it. In fact, all red-blooded men on this train get it: she is attractive. Glance and look away. She is still a person. She is poorly dressed for this cold weather, and has nice bits, but you pretty much are puttin the "creep" in "creeper."

You haven't just mentally undressed her, you are doing far far worse in your head. I can tell the way your eyes are locked on her waist and the tip of your tongue is slightly poking through your front teeth.

Glance and look away.  Jeez. I bet the stop she just got off want even hers; but just the closest place you weren't.

I need a shower now.

Sparse

There often is a magic train mid-rush hour that can happen between 4-5PM. This train has very few people on it and lots of open seating. The seat I am in is a nice open seat with lots of room which was previously occupied by a college kid's backpack. I asked to sit and he quickly transferred his satchel to the ground.

He is reading, "Bruiser," by Neal Shusterman. It really is a good book, and I ask him what he thinks so far. He says it's pretty good. He is probably on chapter four. I tell him, "just wait.. "

He smiles and says thanks. 

He doesn't know that he may look for me later to retract that "thanks." But I'll let him figure that out.

Secret

One thing I have repeatedly complained about is the overuse and varieties of perfumes and colognes on board the train. Mornings are unique to this typically since most people have faded into a post-work funk by afternoon. 

This morning is a little different because there still is the cloud of flowers and musk, but there are a few secret smells mixed in. Among these front-staring folks heading into town are some troubled people. The lady next to me has three distinct scents: a vague floral smell, the sweet cherry menthol of a cough drop, and the vinegar-sweat smell of an entire bottle of wine. She looks flush, but it's not from the cold. 

I want to tell her she isn't fooling anybody with the cough drop, but it's none of my business. That lossenge is her veil, and while we both can see through it, it's still rude to ask who died.

Comparison

This is a train of couples right now. A bit beyond rush hour it feels as though everyone has paired off, and I am here the vulgar spectator.

So I compare who may have the best relationship. Is it the couple making out, obviously in the throes of a brand new relationship? Is it the couple probably in year five when it starts to get challenging.. Sitting next to each other; he is texting and she is listening to her iPod I wouldn't know they are together if her purse wasn't on his lap as she reached for something in her backpack. He seemed unphased by it but couldn't be bothered.

I think the most telling one - the one that I am jealous most of - is the old couple sitting together, they are holding hands and she is leaning towards him slightly. Every now and then they exchange looks and smile. I know they are speaking through their fingers.

Chivalry

I get on a busy train and there are two people sitting in the spot for seniors and people with disabilities: a 23 year old on his phone and a 60+ Asian woman.

He looks up, looks at my cane, looks back at his phone. 

She looks up, looks at me, looks at him, back at me, an pops up spryly and beckons me to her seat. 

I refuse. She has earned it and doesn't know the cane right now is only precautionary in case I tweak it. 

You want to talk about a woman who doesn't take "No" for an answer? Holy crap.. I'm practically shoved into the seat by her all the while I am mumbling, "thank you," in my dazed state.

She says nothing to the young man who is still on his phone beside me. Every now and then I see her look over at the top of his bowed head. I can only see pity for his lack of good raising. She doesn't blame him so much as she does his parents, it seems.

I locked eyes with her and nodded to her and smiled. She smiled broadly back at me.

Control

I wonder if there is some sort of subliminal messaging going on through all smart phones in order to create a docile and controlled population. Just a quick imperceptible order almost like a Manchurian Candidate is all it might take to keep us all sedated and staring at our mobile devices.

Blink: obey

Blink: produce

Blink: consume 

Blink: procreate

I am not sure what scares me more though, the fact that it is possible, or the fact that all this happens without the control.

Beats

Music is so varied. Different genres appeal to people on myriad levels. It's great also that we are given tiny devices that allow us to pump whatever love song or generation rage song we are currently digging directly, and privately, into our ears. 

They also sell a variety of headphones at DollarTree. They have on-the-ear, ear buds, in-ear, and clip-on styles in all sorts of fun colors. For one dollar!

The reason I feel a need to mention all of this is because you feel this need to serenade the entire train at 6 AM with the worst, trite gangsta rap I've ever heard. And I'm not even hearing all of it, because the little internal speaker only gives us like the 2000-11KHz range.  So stop it!!!

Also, sitting between two guys reading the bible. One is reading Mark 3:9, the other Corinthians. Would love to hear them argue their interpretations. Would be like nerds arguing Harry Potter.

Yogabootie

It's chilly, almost cold, and I am surprised so many people dress inappropriately when out and about.

A coworker told me the other day about a guy on his bus wearing jean shorty short shorts: the nuthugger types that leave very little to the imagination. This happened when it was a 15° morning.

And right now, a girl right in front of me wearing leggings tucked into tall gray boots and a micro-spaghetti tank top. That's it. It's 40° outside. She must be freezing her chitlins off.

Wabbits

I almost can't see. The old spiked-blonde lady is wearing a perfume that could strip paint with ease, and she is wearing enough of it to recreate the Jonestown massacre on this train.

I want to ask her what scent it is because it is my right to know the cause of my murder.

In other news, I believe in my heart of hearts that Prohibition was repealed because of a phenomenon known as, "Monday."

I'm also being smooshed into the window. This young lady next to me seems nice, but is slowly smashing me. She is reading a Cosmo magazine and drifting to her left. Waaaaaa help!

Canes

The area on the train set aside for the disabled is filled by people with canes. Me and six others all wielding weapons of curled doom. Little rubber ferrules of death. I half expect an epic fight to breakout Jason Statham-style with lots of bashed crotches and broken elbows. 

Sometimes I like crazy people. They talk to the air as if anyone was listening. We a hear, but are not listening. She likes peoples jackets and hairstyles, she has a migraine, and is on her way to see her payee to get money. She thinks she has food poisoning.. which is about when I jammed my headphones into my ears, with extra thumb pressure. She is too disjointed to be interesting. 

Rude

Only an insane person loves early Monday mornings. Yes we all love sitting down on the train because it is halfway between standing and lying.

But for you to gruff and grouse over the lady who has two grocery bags full of toys she is donating sitting on a seat next to her, makes you the rude person and not her. 

The contents of her bags will bring more happiness to more lives than you probably ever have or ever will. They deserve that seat way more than you.

That burning sensation you may be feeling is the stares of disbelief and disdain from just about everyone around you. 

Audience

There was an older lady, not elderly, but probably mid-60s sitting next to me having a conversation about various things.

As we passed by it, she remarked how she forgot they had opened a City Target downtown, and also how each time the doors open the cold blustery wind chilled her after she just got 'friggin' warmed back up. 

Her fibromyalgia is back, so her joints and muscles ache in this weather. She really hopes her daughter comes and sees her for the holidays as it's been a while. Finally, she mentions how her little dog loves the snow but hates to wear her little blue sweater she spent so much time knitting.

When we entered the tunnel I notice she has no phone, and nobody else is near her. I had inadvertently been the best listener ever as I realize she has been talking to me this whole time. I said the first thing that came to mind:

"Maybe you should have made a pink one."

Lit

There's a woman reading a bible this morning. A tattered onion-skin page version all dog earred and with little memo stickies popping out to save her favorite passages. Makes me wonder what her favorite guilt is. She closed the book and her eyes and just hugged it to her chest. I am partly jealous because I have nothing that important in my life. I can tell she would die for her book.

Beside me is a kid with a gold watch and a crucifix tattooed on his wrist. His phone's screen is shattered beyond recovery and he is still using it. It strange that he can. 

Beside him is a woman in medical scrubs rapidly chowing down on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She is eating so fast, she can't possibly taste it as it has to be jumping her tongue going teeth to throat.

Non

Tonight there's no post.

People are being people.

I'm taking a nap.

Ooze

It's a very chilly, clear morning. So one tends to wear articles of clothing perhaps that offer more warmth. This can take the form of a thick wool coat, a scarf, or the flannel Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pajama pants. 

Wait what?

Now you might think this would be seen on someone who may be marginally employed, or a few screws loose. This guy has a laptop case and looks to be heading work. I love this.

Diet

The guy next to me is also disabled. His disability however I think is the inability to not hork down high octane junk food into his jiggling jowls. I am being smashed against the window by him. I'm becoming more dense. Should I die from the pressure, be sure to harvest my organs because they are surely compressed to gemstones by now. 

Give my diamond guts to my family and friends. Everything but my large diamond heart, which will come out brilliant and about 225 carats. Present that to my mother. She deserves it.

Ugh.. Ow.. And to top it off he is playing Candy Crush on this phone. Oh the irony...

Invention

Without headphones I likely would be in jail. Allow me to explain. Loud babies who want a number of things in a specific way, but are unable to articulate it, are the worst brain puzzle ever. This mom had to figure out that her screaming demon wanted out of her carrier, without one mitten on, and that mittenless snack-hand shoved into a bag of pretzels.

Like a tiny terrorist, if any of those demands were not met, she would lay waste to the ears of the train with the most god awful shrieks. 

Thankfully it only took two stops for the mom to babyhack and found the right combination. Now the little ball of evil is sitting with a happy tear-streaked face; a pretzel stick protruding from her mouth like a victory cigarette.

I wonder if this strategy would work for me around review time. If I don't get the pay raise and bonus I want, I'll scream and shit my pants right there in conference room 42.

Pen

So a street kid of 28 or 29 was riding here, sitting with a box of Hershey's chocolates, presumably selling them for whatever cause. He was holding a Starbucks hot chocolate between his knees as he adjusted his big backpack bundle of belongings, and smooshed the cup spilling 16 ounces of cocoa down his leg, and onto the floor. The channeled rubber floor just drained it down the length of the train; sticky for everyone.

He stood up embarrassed and tried to mop up the spill with some of his candy order sheets. We apparently reached his stop, because before he got off he said, "if any of you are going to the suburbs, please warn them of my spill."

This is a half-hearted play at immortality if I ever saw one.

As another guy departed the train he complimented my cane telling me it was a, "very nice bit of blackthorne you have there."

I said thank you. Just because I occasionally need to carry one, doesn't mean I can't be fashionable.

Scant

There is nothing to write about. There are maybe 12 people on this entire train right now. Most are still asleep. 

I thought it might be snowing, but I was wrong. It was just cold. I woke up 30 seconds before my alarm, so I woke up rested, only to be startled to hell and back.

Spoke too soon:

Those pants replete with hooks and hoops are being worn by: what appears to be approximately a bald 55-60 year old "punk" man with bright Kool-aid-red eyebrows, and many faded light blue-green tattoos. Perhaps an original Ramones fan? He is jamming out to something and is my favorite person of the day so far.

Light

Oddly, not many people on the train right now. Perhaps many took Monday off as an extended vacation? I do not know for sure, but it's nice to have the leg room. 

Not much going on here:

Young couple making out, she is obviously way better at it than he is. His technique is sloppy and clumsy. Hers is practiced with a devil's grace. He is in trouble, but the good kind he will remember for a long while after she moves on.

Behind me, a thug is shaking his chocolate milk by smacking the bottom of the bottle with his palm. Loudly. For the last 10 minutes. Like, "Dude, your Quik is mixed. It's an aerated smoothie at this point." Gangsta milk. 

The lady in front of me has amazingly colorful luggage. I love it. 

Mothers

Millions of new disabled are created every day. All they need to do is pump out a unit. Apparently being a mom with a stroller qualifies you to take up all the seats reserved for seniors and people with disabilities. There are four of them. 

There is some science on your side here. Studies show that becoming a parent drops your overall IQ by a number of points, likely pushing you onto the uphill side of the bell curve into double-digit land.

This effect is exacerbated with more children.

It is, however, important that I point out that your resultant condition, and apparent inability to operate birth control, are not what the happy train people mean by disability.

In other news, the person next to me has a clear Tupperware bottle of what looks like a purple-brown paste. It's nauseating to watch her take sips from its huge boba-like straw. I'm assuming it's delicious because.. it has to be. It looks like she is drinking Vegemite.

Also: funny watching a woman with three (3) very large purses try to get comfortable. I should be videoing this, or at least playing Yaketty Sax music.

Holidays

Yes yes we all want to get home this fine last-day before Thanksgiving, but don't all be a douche about it.

Ugh.. 30 minutes and I will be home with shoes off and food-on-plate.

Old lady next to me is sucking her teeth loudly... Every few seconds... Imma gunna sock her in mouth!

C12H22O11

There is a young mother here with her two year old in a stroller. The fact that he is in a stroller isn't my issue really, even if he is plenty old to walk, but instead what his mother is doing. This lady looks worn out.  Her son is being a bit unruly, and the mom is obviously at the end of the wick in her particular candle. In order to calm him down, she does what many moms do in this situation, and that is to shove a snack in his face.

Only what she gives him is a Pop Tart. Refined flour and a ton of sugar is not exactly what you want to give a child freaking out. Now he is chemically jazzed up as well as whatever else this little demon has wrong with him.

The lady sitting next to me is smooshing me against the window here, making it a bit hard to type. 

Sorry

The first, second and even third time you kick my bad leg you bumbling behemoth, I will accept sorry. I know you have a lot of luggage and this may or may not be the first time you have ever worn a backpack. But the fifth time, my response is going to be, "I really need you to not do that again."

The sixth time, my saying, "As long as you kick my left leg, you and me will be okay," was my subtle way of telling you that if you continue to disregard the space around you I will forget my leg pain long enough to hurt you. By the time we reach your stop I will ensure you need both a plastic surgeon and a dentist. I've a very long fuse but your inability to know where my non-moving feet are is astonishing to me.

Sorry doesn't cut it, 'bro.' 

You know for whom I feel sorry? Your girlfriend, or wife, or parents, or children, or friends, or anyone whose life you have inflicted your presence on.

Grrr bark bark grrr

Santa

This morning is very quiet, and the train is a sea of blue-brown coldness and people in the pose of mourning or prayer. That pose, though is from reading phones, tablets, books, magazines and a sudoku book.

The only standout is this one older guy in a bright red hoodie, new jeans, and converse shoes. His hair is a mercury color with streaks of white. He is totally undercover Santa.

I know what I want for Christmas, should I tell him?

No, thank you.

Getting on the commuter train during rush hour is a crapshoot for seating. Sometimes I get on and it's wide open, other times it is a cramped fully-clothed, dry hump orgy.

Today they should be playing some Marvin Gaye.

Of course I am with my cane if added support is necessary. I left it behind a few days ago and regretted it. I get on board, and for a few long seconds nobody flinches.  Then an old lady, old like you think of The Constitution as being old, told me boldly to take her seat. Before her rickety frame could get fully upright, a young lady got up and quickly offered me her seat instead.  Because hey, let the young disabled guy stand, but not grandma, right?

I've had this happen a few times and am not astonished by it. This time however was funny because I am sitting across from the old lady.  

After sitting back down, she pulled out her book, opened it where she left the dog-earred corner, and while holding the page with her thumb, looked up at me....

and winked.

Off-road

Jeep-brand stroller. Jeep-brand stroller.

I had to say this twice because I am blown away by the need for this level of off-road level of monstrosity.

That being said, next to her is a younger girl dressed all fashionably with nice boots, newer jeans, expensive jacket, nice hair, done-up make up, and a bright pink Hello Kitty fleece being used as a scarf. It is a fashion explosion. Iove it.

Lastly, there is a deaf guy standing in front of me. Normally I barely notice, but this older, burly guy has the voice of Mickey Mouse. Very high and nasally with that, "I have never heard myself speak" accent. I can hear him over my headphones and it's great. I love unique people and there is nobody like him anywhere I bet!  Yay Portland!

PS: ladies, if you are going to put on make up while on the train, don't continually elbow the person next to you who may be trying to blog about you. It's just rude.

Dumb Club

Where the train picks up there are two guys about 30 years old, and friends, standing there laughing and smoking. One turns to the other and takes a swing and just barely misses him.

Return to more laughing and just standing around. Then, one says to the other, "Come stand over here away from the kids."

They move away from the tracks over against the building and started wailing on each other. Hard full punches thrown and landing, and one particularly vicious blow finds home and one guy falls down. Dozens of onlookers just watching the brawl doing nothing: shared responsibility.

The fallen guy gets up and says, "good one, man! Hey, the train is here."

They pick up their bags and get onto the train with me. Now they are just talking and laughing again.

I am so confused!

Basic

Normally the train is a quiet group of a few hundred people sitting together in staunch silence, a reverent time of mourning the death of sleep. Very rarely does anyone look at one another let alone talk. 

Add a diamond-clear morning at 30 degrees, so dry that when you exhale, you become a god creating full-sized clouds, and now you have a lively, brisk group of people talking loudly and socially about the weather. 

Forget anyone talking about new inventions, social issues or some other topic, let's just break our unwritten vow of silence and discuss... the weather. 

More Sawdust

So someone screamed groceries on the train. Yeah they had to stop, tape off the area, add pink sawdust and spray Febreeze.

Also, the guy sitting across from me is "every FBI contact in every movie out there." He has a suit, loafers, trench coat, and even a yellow manilla envelope with undoubtedly top secret nuclear documents. He is amazing, and totally in character: unflinching straight-ahead gaze, checking his watch every other minute, and hands folded on the envelope on his lap. I want to ask what's in it, but... Is that a bulge in his jacket? Is he packing?

Nobody knows!!!

The girl next to me is giggling because she just read all that as I typed it. Haha.

Props

Today was a good morning in that I was able to get plenty of sleep, the pillow between my knees didn't vanish in the night and I woke up feeling pretty good overall five minutes before my alarm went off. 

To recap: good sleep, low pain, not startled awake.

So I tempt fate, take my physical therapists advice, and left my cane in the car today. The leg is still sore, but I am not reliant on it today, and am walking upright instead of bent in half.

I still want a seat on the train to rest it, but apparently without my cane, this barrel-chested youthful stud of a man isn't disabled enough for a little girl to move out of the disability seat. Maybe my limp wasn't convincing enough.

I sighed to myself and grabbed a pole, and then the most amazing thing happened: an older lady, with whom I had shared my story, remembered me. She noticed me wincing slightly (remember less pain isn't zero pain) and turned to the girl and said, "would you be a hero today and let my friend sit. He is in quite a bit of pain but is too proud to ask you."

To her credit, the girl moved quickly and let me sit. And today I learned why we as a society need to talk to one another. This total stranger remembered me, my condition, and cared enough to stand up for me. Faith in humanity restored a bit.

Thanks to Lena.

Aussie

The tourist from Australia is holding his box of VooDoo Doughnuts upside-down. I wonder if he is aware of the humor in that.

Nearly empty train this time of night. College students and some old folks, all on their cell phones. The old guy next to me is playing slots on his Galaxy S4 and fist pumping when he gets a win. It's cute as hell.

Envy

So in the little seats reserved for old people and cripples, like me, there are three of us sitting here. We all have canes with them two having the walmart aluminum special, and me with my gnarled Irish walking cane.  I can feel their jealousy of my amazing accoutrement just radiating from them. 

Just because you can't walk doesn't mean you can't hobble in style.

In other news, the construction guy standing about three feet in front of me has dropped his gallon of milk twice.

I am certain he will do it again and I don't think that container can take it.. I hope he waits a few more stops for the grand finale as I don't want to be coated this morning in moo juice.

Trill

Hearing two guys speak Arabic is almost musical. Lots of emotive vowels and rolled Rs, the way I might sound if someone punched me in the mouth, and I tried to recite Shakespeare.

Fairly empty train, filled with people sighing and and using their phones. Several people have received calls but not one phone "rang." A couple bleepy bloops and some dance tunes. Strange assortment.

I am hungry and in the mood for a really sticky blueberry muffin.

Redux

Tailgated by an SUV this morning, I played a bit of cat and mouse with this silly girl who drives like a total idiot.

I went straight and she turned right as we went around the same block, meeting again on the opposite corner, where I go in front of her again. 

We both turned into the park & ride where I drove down the aisle and she zipped across the parking lot diagonally racing for a spot. Again, I got there first.

She parked next to me, we both get out and she runs for the train platform. I hobble on my bad leg far behind.  I finally reach the platform just as the train pulled up, where she was waiting breathlessly stupid. 

I just smirked at her as we both got on the train. 

Fashion

One reason I really enjoy fall and Winter is the clothing. From big billowy jackets to cute laced up boots, it's far more flexible than most summer wardrobes.

Grabbed a red line train just to get out of town and head home.  Apparently morbid obesity is a disability because that's what was filling up all six seats: three people; one buttcheek per seat.

Did I make one of them move? You're damn right I did.

Bicycles

Our two-wheeled friends are out in force early today. Thankfully not a very full train this morning. There are five of them on the train. That is way too much motivation per capita this early.

Bible guy is here and reading... looks like Matthew today. Wonder what great lessons he will glean and put to good use today.

The guy next to me sounds like he is on day 3 of a cold. Just had to ask him to please cover his cough. What kind of parents did he have, I wonder...

Quiet

The Tuesday evening train is always quieter than other times. A nice calm ride home after a night of trivia. Lots of open seating, and a more blue-collar feel to it. 

Two balding guys are talking football and politics while wearing their company-branded windbreakers. A very tall Asian girl who must work at a restaurant (because she smells like the number 13), carries with her several boxes of takeout for her friends and/or family.

An old silvered couple is sitting close in their seats, holding hands and making me jealous.

And I sit here, alone in one of the disability seats. There is a acne-faced kid who looks up from his iPhone long enough to say to me, "Hey man, cool cane," and his head goes back down.

Three-day

Even the plump little baby sitting directly in front of me doesn't want to go to work. And it won't have a job for probably another 17-24 years. 

Also, it pooped itself. Which is a natural reaction to being up this early after three days away from work. I'm half tempted to so the same.

Lots

Where do all these fucking people come from?

I'm constantly lowering the bar...

Leg

Very busy morning train we have going here. Thankfully a very nice guy yielded his seat for me when I asked. Not sure if it was my cane or me biting through my bottom lip that made the convincing argument, but ultimately it was effective.

Stupid leg.

Musketeers

If one person is sick on this train right now we are all screwed. Not sure why or how so many people are on this one, but it is close quarters and smells of bad cologne and mint gum.

The guy next to me has been reading me type this and laughed saying, "yeah... Not my cologne bro." 

All for one; one for all.

Sellout

The man before me has a nice pinstripe suit. He stands with good posture and confidence. The suit fits his shoulders, has good arm length, a single break in the leg which rests on his nice black shoes. Obviously tailored... He has a light purple shirt which looks pressed. He has a tie that doesn't look like a nine year old at church tied it (a pet peeve of mine is a man who can't tie a tie.) On his wrists he has a nice stainless watch with a simple dial. 

He also has the words Love and Hate in a used-to-be-black-now-light-green shade on his hands across alternate knuckles. His ears have the lopsided remnants of large gauging pulling in like an old grandma's lips pulling in a drag on a cigarette. 

There is a spider web inked under his right ear, and under that stainless watch pokes out a sleeve of various images on his skin.

His hair has a single half-inch wide streak of blue in it. It wouldn't surprise me if he was using it to just cover the gray.

Wonder what he sees in the mirror.

Forgetfulness

Rain does strange things to people. It makes them forget the concept of assured clear distance when driving, the fact that they put off replacing their wipers and bald tires also eludes them. A spinning, twirling bumper car takes the place of another commute on the road.

But cars aren't the only ones with deadened neurons; I give you the invincible pedestrian in dark clothing who either can or cannot elude the oncoming train in the cold, wet environment. The Heisenberg principle at work here, who knows but through observation if he will canter off barely or become a statistic.

It's not like the train sneaks up on you.

Well the trains are all delayed because today's subject apparently did not quite "barely" make it past the 55 ton beast.

Yeah, it's sad.. of course, but damn it, people!!!

Eau My

So much perfume. Eyes watering again. Smells like a car crashed through a walmart perfume stand in here. Wow.

It's only Tuesday but feels like Thursday already. I vote for a new work law that states if I do five days worth of work in two I should get the rest of the week off.

Citizen Will for President.

Debate

Here is awesome: Guy gets on an outbound train asking people to sign a petition regarding the water bureau of Portland city. The trick is you had to live in-city to be on the petition.

Do you not see the problem here? All of these people, not some, are going home outside city proper. Nobody can sign it.

Back to the awesome: even though it wasn't something any of us could vote on, ten or so people launched into a discussion about the topic and we debated it from both sides for a bit. 

Nothing too passionate since none of us had a stake, but it was vigorous. Team captains were a rich old lady and an old street guy with a very dirty jacket. The guy actually was way more solid and convincing. Full marks!

Maybe that is what we need in government: forget your stake and argue logically.

Eyes and Bags

When I say. "Eyes and bags," I am not referring to those purple-gray purses slung under my baby blues this morning. I mean real eyeballs and backpacks.

The backpacks thing is silly. They don't get seats: simple. On your lap, on the ground, or slung around your back whilst you stand. Watching that old lady completely ream you for like two minutes while you cowered in shame almost made my morning. 

Which brings me to eyes. A girl got on wearing one of my favorite outfits: jeans tucked into boots. She has a pleasing form, and a fairly nice butt. Now, being morning I have no tact, manners or couth, so yeah, I was staring at it.

What I didn't know is the entire time I was looking at her profile rump, she was staring eyes locked on my eyes. When I looked up, her facial expression only made one change: her eyebrows lifted.

Busted! I know, I have a phone I can look at instead! :-)

Captive

Panhandler gets on the train, starts traveling the aisle asking for spare change. I don't appreciate the inability to walk away. So now he stands there afterwards at the front of the train looking back down the rows making eye contact with everyone who did not give him money. 

A little unnerving and hardly fair. I really don't have spare change, or any change, on me. Moreover who these days riding public transit has money, "they don't intend to use."

After this week, all this is mine.

Pariah

I've said this too many times. I could write a separate blog about this. 

Age trumps gender when it comes to seating on the train, sugar.

The only reason I have to say this again is because of your need to verbally make note of, "no gentleman willing to offer their seat."

First off: I am not a gentleman.

Secondly: You are fully capable of standing there with your paltry 19 years of life, yoga pants, and bookbag.

Lastly: Shut your mouth, girl. You flap open your lips with dribble like that you deserve replies like mine.

For the record, "Guess not, princess," was the nicest way for me to put that.

Smoosh

If I were a tiny, brined fish commuting outside of my normal can-home, and chose to ride the train today, I may complain about the lack of elbow room.

I might also lament being back in my can at the end of this list of errands, whatever those might be for a tiny fish in a city. There would be intense longing for the spaciousness contained in the 3.75 ounce mansion which I share with my dozen or so brothers and sisters.

I need a shower now.

And I don't know for certain, but me, the two girls in front of me, and the guy behind me may be plurally married. 

At least that's the impression got from his pelvis rubbing on mine unintentionally and with apologies.

Costume

Today's train is full of happy fun Halloween costumes. It's a great festive day for people to shed the doldrums of their typical day be a fictional, sometimes scary, character.

A tour, you say? Well let's see what we have here.

Well here we have a medical student reading her notes from class (such a great prop). She is clutching "coffee" and has dark circles under her eyes. Likely eye shadow.

Over yonder is a construction worker, probably late to a Village People morning party, he is showing real commitment to his costume with his lunch pail, white hardhat, and gray-black damaged hands with shattered fingernails. Ouch bro.

There are others, but I am not alone in being the "just heading to work" guy. Sitting in front of me is a young devil. Her red dress a bit wrinkled, pitchfork lying forgotten next to her. She looks sad and tired. I bet she is new and on her way to claim her first soul.

The first is always the hardest.

App

The train this morning is a sleep car of protest with dozens of faces pressed hard enough against windows to snooze, but not so deep in REM that they miss their stop.

That is, of course, except for these two older ladies who are clucking loudly into each others' faces. I say that because with my headphones I cannot discern their words. They just sounds like roused birds gurgle-gobbling at each other.

The strange thing is that I am not sure they agree or disagree with each other. They aren't listening, just taking turns bawking. Bawking. Ba-caawwww.

Funeral

Every person on the upper deck off this train is wearing a black coat. While they might be leather, wool, or have some northwest sounding name on the breast, but they are distinctly black.

All, of course, but one: a small grey haired old lady with a neon yellow windbreaker covered in little blue lightning bolts. She is sitting at the very front and we are all following her at the same speed, though she seems faster.

If any one of us had a scythe this would be really ominous.

Media Black Sheep

This is my phone. This little digital boxy thing that lights up my face as I type, and pumps talk radio into my ears, too. Internet! News! Streaming media! 

I am, however alone in this endeavor this morning. 

Around me people are reading magazines, books, a newspaper, a crossword fun book, and one aging lady with grayish-yellow hair and a pink jacket  is playing an old beep-boop Yahtzee LCD game. She is my only technology compatriot.

Gotta cut this short, though, as we are going into a tunnel and I am the only one whose stimulation will get cut off. Maybe tomorrow I'll bring the book I am reading.

Target

So a tall slender gentleman just boarded the train carrying a five-foot longbow with a quiver of arrows slung across his back. 

He is probably 25 or 26, black, and has an old timey moustache twirled up into curls. 

His tan pantaloons are embroidered with green birds and little brown stars.

The door slid open, he stepped on, and we pulled away. Nobody else seems to be curious about this since they looked up, took note, and went back to their books and knitting.

I am dying to know what quest he is on.

Godliness

I am all for hygiene, but perhaps people could choose to dispose of their cotton swabs perhaps in a trash can?

It's Friday, and I am looking forward to getting home and away from the norm. Will spend most of Saturday being chased around a park by zombies, though many seem to already be on this train. 

Don't think they want brains though...

Communication

Sometimes on the train I look around and try to figure out how this collection of people would react together as part of a survival group. You know, the ragtag band of folks that get thrown together during a disaster or zombie invasion. I see a nursing student, a chef, and a lot of business people. So we could eat & bind wounds at least.

Of course you also have to look at women who you might need to re-people the world with. Of course... You also need to look for the panickers, the psychos, and the dead weight. 

I can see the problem guy, the manipulator, and the inconsolable cryer.

I want to think I would step forward as a leader. Not because I need control, but really want to say cool phrases like, "get everyone to to rear car while we set up the barricade!"

Strategery

An extra few blocks lands me on a train before it hits downtown proper. I typically get myself a seat. This is nice for me. 

I've not written in a while, but spent much time on the train reading or sleeping. I do miss the daily observation, so here I go again.

Today I am enjoying listening to two Romanian women arguing furiously over either shoes, dinner or a baby. I am uncertain because all I have gained is her impassioned pointing at her shoes and stomach. I'm going to go with dinner... Because it is possibly the least creepy of the three.

Space Pt2.

Look, if you are so big you need both seats: stand. You need the exercise.

This one-buttcheek-per-seat stuff is out of control.

Space

I don't recall this many enormous people in hover-rounds taking up all four seats in the  "disabled" area before I had a cane and a legit need to sit down.

We are talking insane mudslide huge here.

Love

I saw a brand new single rose, still in its plastic, just lying on the sidewalk near the max platform. With nobody around I said to myself, "hey! Free rose!" As if I found a $20 bill on the ground.

I picked it up and took two steps and stopped. My mind flooded. Was this someone's rose? Not dropped, but placed in memory? Had it fallen from a boy's hand when he realized the girl wasn't coming? It wasn't my found rose to keep.

With my heart a little sad, I turned around and placed it back where I had found it.

Vortex

Had plenty of time to catch the train, but one red light lasted 3 minutes. As a result, I was forced to wait an additional 12 at the platform.
Why do they have lights that long at 6am on non-busy roads.

I should've ran the light.

Flowers

Can't breathe.. Perfume suffocating me.. Send help

New year

Not sure why, but the train has been boring this year. Guessing things will improve with time.

It will always get better! Right?