Staying inside myself; internalizing the job.

I haven’t written much of late, I haven’t had much to say. Not because there isn’t stuff going on, there is always stuff going on, but rather I’m really struggling to stay focused on my end goal. I’m tired, I’m over this job,  like a marathoner on the 23rd mile I’m just trying finnish this race. Im really just focused on myself and internalizing what I have to do to survive the days. For me it’s no longer about what’s going on around me, it’s just about staying focused on my actions.

I’v been driving the bus for so long I can barely remember what is was like years ago. I have no association or recollections to the fun this job used to be, I’m just numb. But the other day I got a rare recollection to what used to be like. The other day A new driver came up to me in a panic. It was his first solo day and he couldn’t log on to the radio. I told him I’d help him and so we set off to find his bus. One small problem, he couldn’t remember which bus was his. He left his paperwork with his bus number on the bus. laughingly I told him “Buddy there are 300 buses in this yard, they all are big and orange.” So like two lost shoppers in a mall parking lot we looked and looked for his bus. Finally we found it. I was able to log him on to his radio and  he thanked me. ” Look it’s your first day, focus on the basics, don’t run anybody over and pick up all the people, everything else will take care itself.” In that aspect he and I were in similar positions. Two drivers, one at the beginning of his career, the other at the end, both just struggling to focus and make it through a day. How have I been focusing? I’ve been focusing on my regular passengers, getting to know them and counting on them to get me through the day as much as they are counting on me to get them to work. In the coming days I’ll be introducing some of them to you. There is Sheila, Alfred, Caroline, the three artsy kids,  Megan and others.  They don’t know it but they are pulling me to the finnish line..

 

Musings from the streets.

Yesterday a guy getting on my bus stopped and gave a woman a “wolf whistle.” I don’t think I’ve heard a wolf whistle since the 1980′s and even then it was in the Nair who wears short shorts commercial. I have to wonder if a wolf whistle has ever successfully wooed a women into bed? It just reaffirmed my belief we men are a desperate lot.

Less than Human. The Tyrannizing Image.

I know Flo. Every driver in the San Fernando Valley knows who she is. To read in the LA times “Homeless woman set ablaze” was heartbreaking.  What is it that drives people to abuse, hurt and kill the least fortunate of our society? Hate? Anger? Fear? Maybe she represented the tyrannizing image, the notion of what this person feared the most.  The image as posited by Dr. Richard Weaver is the notion that people demonize that which we are afraid of becoming and therefore we fight against it. I don’t know but what I do know is Flo never really bothered anybody. For years she has sat on that corner, smoked her cigs and smiled. She never caused problems for people waiting for the bus, never hassled the local merchants. There was nothing tyrannizing about her.

It’s easy to look the homeless as things instead of people. Some people may find it odd that I’m sad for Flo. I have a house, kids and a job. All of that can be taken away in an instance. I like many others should fear the tyrannizing image of being out on the streets, but I don’t. I try really hard not to gauge my good fortune or life against others, that only breeds hate. Burning someone alive has to be the most horrific act of violence one can inflict on others. I don’t buy this mentally insane crap. He had to go into Walgreens buy the rubbing alcohol and then douse Flo with it. This was premeditated hate, pure and simple. He did it because he didn’t see a person, he did it because what he saw was something less than human. Remember that when a sales clerk or someone else pisses you off. try to understand for one moment they are human too.   It reminds me of my favorite quote

“I am human, therefore nothing human is alien to me” – Terence

Rhetorical A-hole

Sitting in a bus stop yesterday I saw a car a half a block up spin out of control and hit a light pole.  The rain has a way of doing that in Los Angeles. People think LA drivers are the worst, a little drizzle causes all these accidents. Well truth be told it’s because we get so little rain that we have so many accidents. When you go long periods of time between rains oil and solvents build up on the road and when it rains these roads become really slippery. So it’s not uncommon to se many cars spin out.

However this driver was also horrible. He ran through a light and took the turn way to fast. I pulled along side of did my duty by asking if he was OK or required an ambulance? He told me he was fine. The car was a nice Lexus, he a young driver. I made the assumption that this was a car his parents gave him. I was about to leave but for some reason that wasn’t enough for me, I felt as if I should get some entertainment out of his stupidity. I just thought I needed to enjoy the moment. So I decided he needed a good dose of irritating rhetorical questions. here is what I asked him.

Were you driving too fast?

Did you spin out?

Didn’t you see the light change color?

Is your frame bent? A bent frame means a totaled car.

Will your parents be mad?

I could see his shitty day meter rising with each insidious rhetorical question…  I’m not going to lie, some small part of me felt really good driving away from that intersection.

 

 

Working without a net

Two high-profile stories about the MTA have been in the news. An 89 year old man dies after being beaten, and a mentally disabled women sexually assaulted on an MTA bus have people questioning the police presence on a bus. To which I respond “what police presence.” There has never been a police presence on the buses. In 22 years guess how many times I’ve had police officers ride my bus in service? Three times, and zero in the last eleven years. security has been laughable at best. Let me tell you the absurdity of our old buses. We used to have these very visible video cameras, they were fake. A ruse, an empty black box with a red light and a lens. the lens a glass window into a big empty box. We are the red-headed step child of safety to the MTA

chew gum on a train or subway platform and your likely to get a $275 ticket from one of the many sheriffs that patrol the rail. evade your fare on the Orange line and chances are you will get a $75 ticket from the half-dozen fare officers checking each day. Crime prevention on trains is proactive, on buses it’s reactive. ( reactive means they might show up and take report, but probably not) Commit a felony on a local bus, ring the bell, get off at the next stop and walk away.. that’s just the way it is. What? Why don’t I stop them? well the best quote I found in those two linked articles is from a driver, and I agree. We drive, were drivers, not police officers. Just because we wear uniforms doesn’t mean we are there to serve and protect. We are just trying to survive in bad situations. The company is always putting us in bad situations, like enforcing the fare. Fare evasion is a crime under the California Penal code. Nowhere in my job description does it say I am a P.O.S.T certified officer of the law.

Sometimes it’s a terrible weight on our shoulders. The burden that we are the only ones who know we are driving without a net. Anytime something happens I have to ask myself a stark question “Is this worth losing my job?” because that’s the risk I ( and every other driver) face when we decide to leave the seat and help. It’s one of those fucked up situations when you have to either react and risk it all or swallow your pride and die a little inside. Sadly I’ve died a little inside many times over the years, my humanity murdered by indifference.

I don’t know what I would do if I were the driver of that bus the women was raped on. You like to think you’d know, but you don’ until it happens. One thing I do know is it’s bullshit that the driver said he didn’t notice it happening. I notice all kinds of shit on my bus. I certainly pay more attention to the back of the bus.  So while I won’t fault him, I don’t believe him when he said he was focused on the road.  But like all high wire walkers, when you work without a net, you have to keep your eyes straight and not look around…

The Arrow of time; chains of my oppressor.

The Arrow of time is a term in physics for the concept that time keeps moving forward. Now the forward part is important, because there is no reason in the laws of physics that time has to move forward. it just does. And I thank God for that.

Time is the big evil obstacle at the MTA. There just never seems to be enough of it. There is “Running time;” which is the amount of time they give you to get from the start of your run to the end. There never seems to be enough of that. There is Recovery time, which is the layover time. They say the layover time is for operators to stretch their legs and take a break between runs, that’s utter bullshit. More often than not they design runs on paper that have no running time but lots of recovery time. What that means is I’m usually late. Even on my easy as little quiet street line with no traffic or people, it’s not uncommon for me to be 10 minutes late.

You think you have time constraints at your job? try this on for size. I start work at 4:43 am each morning. If I show up at 4:44am  I’m not allowed to work. So once I’m at work it doesn’t let up.  I start at 4:43 am I have to pretrip and set my bus up and leave the yard by 4:56 am. The company suggest I show up early to do this…  Fuck them. I show up on time and do my work, they don’t pay me to be here early.   Now once on the road it gets worse. imagine a schedule that says  you leave Chatsworth and Canoga at 8:54 am and have to be at Chatsworth and Tampa by 9:04 am. then Balboa by 9:13 am Van Nuys by 9:26 am, Woodman and Roscoe by 9:33 am, Woodman and Sherman way by 9:41 am and so on…  Here is the thing one can never catch time.. and time keeps moving forward. so if I stop to pick up a wheel chair and I load the passenger in 3 minutes, well that makes me 6 minutes late, because my time is a moving time. If I waste a minute standing then I’m late that minute plus the minute I wasn’t driving.  It’s the number one stress inducer on drivers… the lack of time. Most young drivers are glued to their schedules and they forget ours is really a people job not a time job.  I used to check my wristwatch constantly

I used to hang out with this woman who would make me take my watch off when I was with her. It bugged her that I looked at it constantly, I loved her for that. The trick is time will be your master till you learn to ignore it.  I know that sounds odd, but it’s true. Once you stop worrying about time and just do the job, you stay on time much easier. You learn to rely on your internal clock rather than your wristwatch. I don’t worry about time to much any more. Retirement is quickly coming up in my windshield.  As of this writing I’m a 12 months 29 days… once I get under 12 months nothing else matters, if I get in any serious trouble I could go sick and ride out the remainder of my time on the sick list.

As it is with the job so it is in life. I used to think material things were precious. Money, cars, stuff were important. As I get older I realize time is the most precious thing we have. Using your time wisely is the most precious resource a person can have. You can’t trade up or buy more time. When it’s done it’s done…  and my time for the MTA is almost done…

Epilogue: I apologize for not spending more time on the blog as of late… my life is busy and it seems I can never find the time to share my thoughts here. I will endeavor to be more mindful of posting.

Ride On people

Father(ing)

Everyday this guy gets on my bus. He is an older worker man with a carpenters tool belt. He seems friendly enough, I really didn’t pay him much mind, until today. Today he was sitting up front, close enough for me to hear his conversation. He was explaining his job to two other people. ” Car? No I don’t have a car. I don’t have a license, can’t get one.” He goes on to tell them he also hasn’t gotten a paycheck since 1988. 1988? What the F I think to myself. As I focused my hearing on his conversation I listen to him explain. He is in the rears for over $95,000 dollars in child support to his daughters mother. He lost a court battle in 1988 and went home and quit his job. Since that time he has always worked under the table for cash, and most his employers are OK with that.

My heart sunk. There is, in my mind, no worse scumbag than a parent who would abandoned their responsibilities to their kids. I can understand lovers breaking up, shit happens, but kids? How low a douche bag can you be to leave your kids to fend for themselves without any moral or financial support from you?  You would have to kill me, to keep me from my kids.. and as far as providing I would go without from now till kingdom come to make sure they have what they need. That’s the deal… that’s what parents do. I’ve said it before on this blog.. the most important word of a father is sacrifice. What selfish, immature, dick… would spite his kids?

The word mothering refers to nurturing. But when we hear the word fathering we associate it with fucking. That’s a tragic disparity between the sexes, and I think it’s ingrained from an early age. How often do we see little girls in play assume the role of mother? They care, feed, and nurture their dolls. Little boys do not play the role of GI Joe’s dad… when they play with dolls they envision themselves as the doll. We teach boys from an early age to buy into this mythical construction of “man” and that construct includes sexual conquest..  little boys spend zero time envision themselves as a father…. but when the  hormones kick  from say 13-75 we are consumed with having sex, fathering.  Tragically we as a society place greater emphasis on the act of gratification than the role of a father. It also leads to this disconnect between father and sons. because the role, duties, and responsibilities of a father are alien to young boys.

I first pondered this question in grad school. When my wife became pregnant and we found out we were having twins, I was ecstatic. When we went to the  fateful ultra sound that showed us two peni I was scared. One thought came to my mind; what would I teach these boys about being men. From that point on I’ve been consumed by notion that it’s my most important job to be a role model of what a man is to my sons. Be a person of conviction, of intellect, of compassion and to do so with strength… It seems an impossible task as my enemy is every crappy new song, movie and TV show that feeds us another line of BS about masculinity. Sadly , I’m aware I’m in mortal combat with Jersey Shore for the soul of my sons. getting back to the douche bag on my bus…  the worst part of all is the ending. He tells his buddies.. ” Hell I can’t pay her the money, what would the mothers of my other 9 kids think?” I wanted to cut his balls off with a dull knife… Thus ending his major problem. Because the only thing that makes him remotely a man is that sorry excuse for his manhood between his legs…

The East Coast Italian

I open the doors one morning last week and this guy gets on. 5’3 slight build, receding hairline, I’m guessing about 50 ish. He taps his card and moves to the side to let others pay and pass him by. He then puts a $1.50 in and tells me ” This is for the brunette who is at the next stop. I pull up to the next stop and a pretty, young, brunette gets on. Fumbling for her change I tell her ” It’s been taken care of already.” with a surprised look on her face she thanked the guy.. and off we went…

fast forward 24 hours same stops same thing…  he puts the money in for her.  She gets on and I tell her again ” That guy took care of it” her look was a little less surprised, a little more quizzical. ( How often does one get to use quizzical in a blog? I love this job!) anyway lets fast forward 24 hours again…..

He goes to put the money in and I tell him ” You know, I’m not entirely sure she appreciates you paying for her.” He tells me “I’m an east coast italian, this is what we do.”  She goes to get on and I shrug my shoulders and point my thumb back at him. She rolls her eyes in extreme disdain and goes to sit down….

24 hours later…  he pays again….  we drive to next stop and she isn’t there.  He seems agitated, as if she broke some social contract.  he tells me, to use the fair for someone who doesn’t have any money. Yeah right ( can you smell the sarcasm in the sentence?) bottom line short 3 more days go by and the brunette hasn’t been back…  I don’t blame her.  It appears that the east coast italian has come off as a west coast douche bag….

Dumpster Diving Don Juans

You have to admire homeless dudes who have game!!! On my new route  there is not one homeless guy, but two who have girlfriends. I saw them both today and each image left an indelible mark . The first couple was sitting on a bench in Arleta. She had her head in his lap and slept as he stroked her hair he stared out  pondering the near future. The second couple got on the bus letting her on first he sat his lady down and then the gentleman came up to pay for both of them with nickels and penny’s   I have to admit I’m in awe of their mojo. In various times of my life I’ve had my own apartments, cars, disposable cash and yet no girlfriends. These guys push carts and hang out at bus stops and they have partners.  The have a level of game I never possessed.  I’m just not that smooth

Now I know what you’re going to say. Mr. Farebox, they’re homeless what options does she have?  Oh contraire, she has loads of options..  those two girls could date any homeless guys they want, money is not an issue.  Food, or protection might be an issue, but money is not. There is no great equalizer in these equations to separate a really good guy homeless person, from someone not so good but with a fat wallet.  In a way it’s almost a utopian dating society.

Imagine what it would be like if we all were judged on our merits. No pretense about jobs, or money.  No playboy playmates coyly stating  ” A mans sense of humor attracts me most.” no nice car to sway the court of dating opinion. Ask yourself this question, would you still have game?  would you still be/ have been with the partners you have/ had? Ladies would that guy, you know the one have talked to you if you didn’t look like a stone cold fox in that dress? Guys would you have gotten a second date if instead of that nice french bistro you took that girl to the golden arches?  Forget relationship advice from Cosmopolitans sporting Demi Lovato on the cover with articles  on “Sex tricks to wow every time”  you want real advice stop at that bus bench on the corner and ask the homeless guy ” How did you get a girl?”  thats the relationship expert I want to hear from.

A Hi Note!!!!!

Originally I was going to share this last week except something “Unavoidable” happened. I don’t want to comment too much on this except to say  receiving it meant the world to me.  I never really feel as if most riders appreciate all that we do. This particular girl “Tabitha” never really talks to me.. so this was a surprise.

Tabitha if you somehow get to read this post..  Thanks for making my day, my week, my month, my year!!  your simple sentiment still brings joy to me…  I will strive to pay it forward!!!!

Blonde #2: The Daytime Stripper.

There’s a new rider on my bus of late. Standing 5ft 2 in shredded jeans each day she and her fake orange tan ride my bus to work. Stop!! Before you go thinking who wonderful it is that even an “Adult” entertainer is going green, I have three letters for you. D.U. I.  You would not believe how many waitresses, bartenders, bouncers, and dancers I drive to work. But the mere fact that I pick a stripper up and drive her to Chatsworth isn’t what I want to talk about.

I want to talk about her and her daytime stripper status.  Here is the thing, and sadly I some experience with this world ( way back when) dancing isn’t the type of job you start at with an entry level position and move up. Oh sure, when your first hired you may get a daytime shift to start but their are girls who are featured dancers and those who aren’t and this one does not have “it.”  You’re probably wondering what “it” is?  Well, “it” doesn’t have to be looks.  ”It” certainly doesn’t have to be dancing ability…  although that helps…  The “it” in dancing is the same “it” that gets people ahead in many professions. “it” is confidence and this girl doesn’t have any.

I’ll call her Sandi. I hear Sandi each and everyday on her iPhone. There she sits and talks to another girl about her yesterday shift.  ”OMG, I’m so glad Wendi ( all strippers spell their names with i’s) wasn’t at work. When she doesn’t work I make 3 times my normal tips.” That little statement there told me volumes, and cemented her name in my mind as “blonde #2″ because it’s not hard to figure out “Wendi is blonde #1″  Sandi is never going to work nights, where the big money is, she is destined to be a daytime stripper. She won’t be flying out to vegas to make big money because she isn’t in demand. She isn’t in demand because of her looks, she is decent enough looking. But she doesn’t stand out. Sandi has no angle to sell herself… and I’m not talking in the biblical way.  We all can learn from Sandi’s mistakes.

I don’t care what job your in or how well you do it, All of us have to have an angle, something that sets us apart.  I walk into my bus yard and all 400 drivers know who I am. They don’t know me because I’m a nice guy, they know me cause of my other job. Professing is my angle, I stick out in that world because I’m different, and people remember things that stand out.  I’ve learned a thing or two about this over the years and I try and pass the information on to my students, and now to you my readers.  Anytime you have to engage another person, speak to them, or present to them… or just talk to them..  your not just communicating information your communicating whom you are. remember that. I’m not saying to be over the top, I’m saying be genuine, because that alone will make you stand out from most people. The best way  to be your genuine self is to think critically about the world around us. By thinking critically we can make intentional choices about whom we want to be.  I guarantee this will make you stand out 100 times better than driving the latest new sports cars. Because eventually everyone will buy a Maserati  and they won’t be special.

I wish I could pass this information on to Sandi. I’ve known really successful women in her field.  And, yes they were pretty, and they could dance. But they all sold something better than sex to their customers, they sold their personalities ….  the were genuine and stood out…. And never once did they take a back seat to Blonde #1 they just did their thing.  Similarly I don’t drive my bus and try to model my behavior like my coworkers, I have my own methods. I don’t alter my lecture style to imitate another instructor, because I do things my way.  So I;m concluding by asking a simple metaphorical question to all. Are you a Daytime stripper or a featured Dancer?