It was a busy, bullshit day in the SFV.. my bus full of a certain degenerate clientele  and 5 minutes late to boot. I was 20 minutes into a 2 hour run and I knew this day wasn’t going to get any better. Just then it got worse. A German Shepard dotted out onto the road, right in front of a car. The driver tried to swerve but he couldn’t avoid the poor animal.

In that moment I selfishly let out a sigh…. not for the animal but for my schedule… my bus was going to be really late…. but in an instant my humanity was restored by two heroes, who are used to saving the day.

A nearby LAFD paramedic unit next to me sprang into action. Lighting up its red lights and swirling the siren, it cut across traffic to the furry victim. The two paramedics sprang from their vehicle and started to give basic care to the dog. They calmed it down they did a visual inspection, they worked to immobilize it so it wouldn’t do further damage to itself. In short, they treated this dog as they would any patient. They worked as hard as they could, trying to transpose their knowledge of human first aid onto a canine and I was in awe. after a few minutes a vet and 3 techs from a nearby Animal hospital ran down the street with a dog stretcher. The paramedics help secure and transfer the canine for medical care.

Except for the type of patient, I suppose this is all in a day’s work for them. Just another rescue. For me however, it was a reminder of the importance of keeping a little bit of understanding, a little bit of empathy, a little bit of humanity in our minds. And by doing that those firemen not only saved the dog, but rescued me from my lousy disposition.

Quantum physics describes the notion of spacetime and a 4 dimensional approach to existence that includes time.  Basically it says all points exist at all times simultaneously, after three days I appreciate the concept a lot better now. My run that I was bumped off  from was very much in the now.. This is the valley I live in today. I drive in my neighborhood, passing my house twice a day.  Every morning I would wave to Bob the crossing guard for my kids school. I liked being in and around my little neighborhood. I could keep an eye on things.  Then I realized over the last two days that every where in the Valley is connected to me by spacetime

On Tuesday I worked Victory Blvd. I drove by the football field I played high school games on, passed within 20 ft of the room where my father died. I noticed the alley friends and I used to drink beer in. A part of me felt sad to see the sorry shape of the old UA 6 Valley Plaza Movie theater. ( it was my first real date) I couldn’t help but reminisce over the empty storefronts that used to be the Pickel Barrel Deli and Cecilia’s Ice Cream Parlor, the former being my first real job, the latter being the first ( and only) Job I was fired from. ( rightfully so, I sucked at scooping ice cream) further down the road I passed the location where I enlisted in the Marines. then my Parents house along the way I noted a dozen or so friends streets and where they lived.  Today I passed my old high school and the Park I used to party at as a kid. There was the Burbank Price Club where I worked for a Year and the bus stop  where I used to catch the bus to go to school.  

I thought to myself, how it’s all changed? They’re gone, everybody is gone. An entire city of places and people I knew growing up and none are left, except me. In that, I truly was living in the past and the present at the same time. remembering the way it was, how it is and wonder what will be. I truly existed in all points of the valley, at all times. It’s natural I suppose.. people move on, bodies in motion. Our own solar system only occupies a point in space for a fraction of time then it moves on and leaves a cold vacuum. North Hollywood is that cold vacuum.  How can communities survive if it’s people up and leave? who will carry on?    As for me.. I drive my bus.. pondering the shuttered up storefronts wondering if the past was as good as I remember or did  just seem better because it was “my”past. 

As of lately there is a bit of a lovers quarrel taking place in the back of the bus…. well that’s not entirely accurate. there was 2 people Mark and Marla….  Marla liked Mike, he played it cool… too cool… as often is the story…  girl likes boy, boy likes girl but doesn’t want to admit it, girl moves on to new boy and gets pregnant….  there in lays the quarrel…  it’s enough to say the dynamic of that trip has changed. One could cut the air with a knife….  things aren’t only just messed up on the bus things are just as messed up in the yard

The end of summer means the end of shorts.. so as of Oct 1 we weren’t allowed to wear them anymore… that meant what???  uniform inspection…  so I show up committing the horrible sin of my shirt sticking out below my jacket a no no for the MTA.  The supervisor performing the inspection told me I had to tuck my shirt in… ( he’s just doing his job, and I have my job to do)  so giving him my FU look I proceeded to  take of my shoulder bag, remove my gloves ( it was a cold morning) take of my  safety vest and remove my jacket….  at which point I’m now in compliance with the uniform regulations..  A less senior driver was witness to my act of defiance and felt the need to point out other flaws in my uniform..  at which point I told him ” Shut the hell up” this shirt by muscle memory alone is a better bus driver than you could ever be.

What he didn’t know, what he couldn’t know is, even if it required me to strip naked to comply with the uniform regs I rather would of than to do  what the supervisor asked of me.  As a matter of principle  I can’t let the company dictate terms to me…  there is after all a difference between laying low and lying down….

PS. we’ve bid new runs and low and behold I did the unthinkable..  I’ve bid the same run…  so more laying low, but hopefully I won’t lye down on the blog for a long time..  The first step to writing is to write so here I am, and I hope to write again soon

Ride on People!!!

I told her first and foremost “I’m old enough to be your father” more importantly I said… ” there is nothing good that could come from me having your number, There is only one reason to have it”, raising my hand to show off my wedding ring I said ” plus I’d never use it”  She just smiled and said maybe I’m not looking for anything good… and walked off the bus… flattered I just closed the doors and drove on..  Thing is even if I weren’t married there  be no way I’d take her up on her offer.  I learned a long time ago…  never date riders

Way back in the day.. Diane was her name.. a fun bubbly blonde with green eyes and a fire about her. She used to ride my express bus home from work and she would always sit and chat with me… I was about 24 years old and young enough in my bus career that I was just trying to have fun.  She told me that she was going to this bar tonight and if I didn’t have plans after work I should drop by. It was on the way home.. so I changed clothes and dropped by, she wasn’t there. 

Next week I saw her and told her I stopped by and she got a case of the guilts and we decided to go out together.  We went on a pub crawl across the valley.. (F.Y.I. if the person your out with is known in every bar in the valley, that’s a bad thing) and she knew all the bartenders of the 5 or so bars we stopped in at.  We dated for about 3 months and it was alright, but I knew it wasn’t going to last. eventually I had gotten tired of her drama and decided it was time to move on, so I broke up with her.

Hell has no fury like a women scorned… she was pissed;  our situation  was compounded by my job. She knew where I drove, she knew my passengers; you never want an ex girlfriend messing up your work.  Diane would get on and cuss me out ” You mother fucker this and son of a bitch that.”   and truth be told I deserved it.  but I would just say ” Babe, I’m working here, call me at home and bitch at me” yeah that never worked.  eventually I had to change lines but then she would give the new driver these crazy letters for me…  I was afraid she would go all Glen Close on me.  

I learned a valuable lesson with Diane.. everyone on the buses are crazy and there is no such thing as a small innocent gesture. Over the years I’ve seen many a drivers date and marry passengers…  the rest of us make fun of them… nothing good ever comes from mixing  your personal lives with your work… that’s how so many people get fired; they confuse work as their life. They get so  used to people they see them as their friends not their bosses or customers.. soon before you know it the customers complain and the bosses fire people…..  that’s one gesture I want to avoid.

One morning this girl got on wriggling her hand inside her shirt and under her arm. She then pulled the arm out, smelled the roll on stick of deodorant in her hand, switched hands and greased the other pit.. all while she tried to pay the fare.  An older guy got on once with once of those Norelco power shavers going full blast… I told him  that was nasty and to stop it…. he looked crossed eyed at me, stopped the razor, paid, and walked to back of bus where he finished shaving. I’ve had people tending to bloody noses, others fighting with boyfriends on phone…. and all in all people do some messed up multitasking. But this guy on Friday too the cake.

7:45 am. I’m on my morning school run and picking up lots of high school kids.  Up ahead there is a tall slender kid with a tennis racket case slung on his back…. he steps in with his short, curly, black hair and I notice something hanging from his mouth. But I can’t figure out what it is…  he goes to pay… slams the money in and stands right at the front of the bus… and then it hits me..  It’s dental floss. this guy is still flossing and spraying this nasty crap all over my bus…. oh it was on from there…. ” Oh fuck no!! I told him… take you and your nasty ass off my bus. He looked so confused at me. He had no clue how nasty and unhygienic flossing in public is.  Seriously, what do these kids parents teach them these days?  I feel like somethings don’t need to be stated…. oh yeah like lets not fling rotting food from between our  gums at innocent bystanders..

So the next time your multitasking… take a moment and think about it. It may not be as nasty as the floss tennis boy….  but would it kill you to stop what your doing for two seconds.. acknowledge the person across from you and then go about your day….  I’m just saying… bad habits steam roll… today it’s talking on cellphone soon we are hurling roast beef bits at nearby onlookers…..   If I can save one of you from a social faux pax then… my work with this post is done

Ride on people…….  Ride on

Last week Marcia got on all alone. She  got fired  after 38 years. She worked for a company that did maintenance for other businesses. When I first met them 20 years ago it was the Budweiser plant, but for the last 16 years it’s been at a trailer park. Her boss got caught evading taxes and in order to pay the fine he had to fire 3 of his 7 workers…  Marty was going to step up and be the man.. but she wouldn’t let him…  so out she went… 38 years without calling in sick once and gone in the flick of a bic.

Sometimes we don’t consider the consequences off our actions….. Boss douche bag skims taxes….  Marcia little old lady pays  the price… I see a lot of that on the streets. The little persons getting  the short end of the stick..  Marcia does everything right, plays by the rules, gives an honest day for an honest wage and out she goes…. 38 years and her only compensation, $2000.

For every action there is an equal reaction, that is a law of physics. People don’t consider the consequences. Yesterday the MTA presented a contract for the drivers to vote on. The assholes turned it down..  most of the drivers now don’t know what it’s like, they’ve never been through a strike…  I have, it’s bad…. it’s always bad……  it’s a lose lose proposition.. What will I do if it happens? I don’t know. I guess I have  some soul searching to do……

He post his blogs over at foodlatio  and here is a repost of his amazing poem

The moral of the story is you have to be there to answer the phone… we all have those gut check moments in our lives..  and the question is can or can’t you answer the phone.

Friday, I was walking through the locker room, on my way out of the building. I saw my friend Jeff and he told me “I’m outta here”, ” me too” I responded, ” I’ll see you on Monday.” He told me no he had just quit. It bummed me out. Jeff is a good driver but he just couldn’t take it anymore. The people, the traffic, the pressure all got to much for him.. he looked in the mirror and decided he just couldn’t  do it anymore.

I’ve seen a lot of my friends quit.There is really nothing I could say. He’s a grown man, we all have to make our choices, who the hell  would I be tell him differently. you see there comes a time in a driver’s career where you have to ask yourself ” is this a job I can handle for the long run?” if the answer is no, it really is best to move on.  This job asks a lot of people. Driving the bus will force you to swallow your pride, ignore your morals and often blur the values and beliefs you’ve lived with. Your forced to suppress notions of right and wrong for safety and expediency.  You often go home with the no so fresh feeling of douche bag on your conscience.  That’s a hard pill to swallow. Jeff had been driving for 6 years that’s usually when people make the decision to stay or go, to answer the phone or let it ring.

As I sat and talked to him faces flashed in my mind, faces of friends who left before him. There was Jessie, he was an older Greyhound driver ( probably one of the best pure drivers I ever knew) he couldn’t handle the stress of stopping every 1/4 mile and dealing with people. The was Richard, He had an accident where a mother and small child died falling under his bus. It wasn’t his fault but he couldn’t get back behind the wheel.  Nick, well no excuses for Nick he just wanted to smoke pot all day.. so he left for a job that didn’t require a drug test. so many others flashed too… Wendy, an attractive girl who married a well off guy…. the stories of how and why people choose to leave are endless add them to the people fired and all of the sudden you realize their are more people who don’t make it at this job than the few folks you still see every day. Out of the 25 people who were in my training class there are only 3 left…. 21 years and 3 of us left. It’s been 3 for a long time, at least the last 10 years.

This job, for most, is a good job. $25 an hour, benefits, a pension, these are things that hard to come buy. It’s even harder if you realize 99% of the drivers only have a high school diploma. My friend Kevin once told me ” Mike,  the difference between you and I is this job isn’t good enough for you, but this job is the best I could of dreamed of for me.” Sadly I know Jeff won’t be OK, it’s going to be a struggle in this economy…  but we all have to make our choices, we all have to decided whats best…. can we do the gut check? can we answer the phone…

Joe Gibbs was a workaholic he spent 75 hours a week at work, he achieved fame and success but at what price?  missed birthdays, forgotten anniversaries, other countless missed family moments. Our choices all come with a price to pay….  I wished Jeff the best as he cleaned out his locker. I told him he was a good driver and that I hoped he found success in whatever he ends up doing….

Each day there is a singular conversation that dominates my bus. It’s weird how it starts. It begins with two people who get on board and they are joined by another guy, then the original two get off and the third guy continues the conversation with another person who gets on latter. So it’s like a long streaming conversation at a cocktail party where people come in and out and add  to the discussion.  So I’m guessing you might be wondering what topic could hold a bus riveted for about 3 hours each day…… Wrestling…. the WWE…..

There are three guys ( and countless others who chime in) who are captivated  by each nights goings on..  ” Did you see what Vince McMahon did?” “Triple H did what?” and they totally get involved in the drama of it all. They act like it’s real, like all this stuff is legit. But the strange thing is when I point out to them that it’s fake they all say “I know, but I like it.”   It’s Soap Operas for boys.

Roland Barthes a giant in the field of semiotics was enthralled with wrestling. he wrote

wrestling is above all meant to portray is a purely moral concept: that of justice. The idea of ‘paying’ is essential to wrestling, and the crowd’s ‘Give it to him’ means above all else ‘Make him pay’. This is therefore, needless to say, an immanent justice. The baser the action of the ‘bastard’, the more delighted the public is by the blow which he justly receives in return. If the villain-who is of course a coward-takes refuge behind the ropes, claiming unfairly to have a right to do so by a brazen mimicry, he is inexorably pursued there and caught, and the crowd is jubilant at seeing the rules broken for the sake of a deserved punishment.  For a wrestling-fan, nothing is finer than the revengeful fury of a betrayed fighter who throws himself vehemently not on a successful opponent but on the smarting image of foul play

So why would these guys revel in this stuff? well there is a common bond they all share. all of them are in a group home of one kind or another… mostly they are parolees….  1 guy is even going to Summer Slam this weekend in Los Angeles and it’s become a group effort to get him there. He had to request a late pass from his house manger, he had to hit me up for bus schedule for buses to get him home that night… I also told him to eat at the Pantry on 9th and Fig.  He went to the Salvation Army and found a Wrestling shirt so he won’t look like a amateur fan.

Here is what I get… this isn’t just a trip downtown for this guy “Danny”  for Danny it’s a journey to semi normal behavior….  it’s a trek to getting back to feeling normal….  he is like a bird learning to fly again after a broken wing… and everyone else who can’t go with him are rooting him on… he has become a symbol of their hopes and wishes.   Semiotics in action!!!!

July 29, 2011. Encino CA. a well to do suburb in and of the city Los Angeles CA. 7:04 am.

Having just completed his run; Mr. Farebox exited his bus at the layover zone. ( Zelzah and Ventura Blvd).  Heading the call of nature the operator proceeds to the Union 76 station on the Northeast corner of said intersection. Upon reaching the restroom door, Mr. Farebox is approached by a man, who asks a question of him. ” Excuse me, are you going into the bathroom? I’ll give you $40 if you pee in this container up to this line? ” WTF? who asks that? Who has the balls to walk up to  a total stranger?

Somebody who is willing to do that is desperate, desperate to pass a drug test. He explained to me that “he knows MTA drivers are drugged screen, so I must be clean.” I found this all very akward.. I mean what would you do? would you spill some urine into his cup for $40? what could it hurt? A little extra spending cash never hurts, that could be Sunday dinner for me and the family. Look, I’m acerbic, pragmatic, and usually expect the worst of people. I’m a flaming liberal who is mostly ok with most attempts to relax drug laws…. But my problem is…. all of these traits are supported by my righteous foundation. I have this annoying act of always knowing what the right thing to do is and irritatingly I often seek to do the right thing…  The last words my father spoke to me was a conversation on his deathbed about why he chose me to be his successor trustee, and why he didn’t have a will. He told me he didn’t care what I did… keep the stuff, sell it, keep the money for myself cheating his other kids, or share with my siblings… but then he chuckled and said. ” Of course your my boy scout, you’ll do what you think is right” I kind of like that those where the last words he spoke to me..  I dutifully left to attend to details and he died that night.  ” Fuck off” was my response….

Eerily the guy approaching me near the bathroom gave me the same groundswell of disdain I harbor for Girl Scouts who camp the ATM lines…. it just seemed so tacky…..  I hope whomever he found to wee, wee for him was a Coke and heroine addict…… that would rule!!!!!!