Hell On Wheels

I miss riding the light rail. On my way to work this morning, it wasn't long before I felt the usual tension and frustration of my morning commute. Everyone seemed to be trying to get somewhere at the same time. Cars were backed up for a quarter of a mile at a main light, and the usual slow-driving, looky-loos were out and about impeding the progress of those of us who needed to get to work and school. While this experience is nothing new, it still annoys me and causes me to arrive to work angry before any co-workers have the opportunity to get on my nerves first. I miss the days of working downtown and being able to take advantage of the park and ride. Sure, it did involve a few minutes of standing in the cold waiting for the train to arrive, but the train was always on time, I always had a seat, the heat always worked, and I arrived to work stress free.

Now, I arrive angry, at times, disheveled, and 15 miles worth of gas lighter in the wallet. Undoubtedly I will have cussed out loud or in my head three or four times, my brakes will have been tested greatly, and I will have used my horn at least once. I can't possibly see how these are excellent conditions in which to transition from the warmth of my apartment to the unpleasantness of the eight hours I must spend at work each day. Though the drive can be trying at best, there are some good parts to it.

Most mornings I listen to NPR on my way to work. It gives me a chance to hear news I may not get from other sources, the voices of the reporters are often soothing, and I feel enlightened and prepared to wow people at any hypothetical cocktail party I may attend. Occasionally, I hear a story that angers me changing my focus from traffic anger to social anger and action. And, there are even times I hear something that moves me to tears, softening the blow of the morning hustle.

There are also times my focus moves away from the radio and I spend time ranting in my head about how stupid the person is who thought it a good idea to put traffic lights at freeway entrances. I've yet to figure out how it is smart to have cars backed up onto the main road while waiting at a light to get onto a FREEWAY. I thought the purpose of getting on the freeway in the first place was to get to one's destination quicker while avoiding the inconvenience of traffic lights. I stand corrected. I then think about how counterproductive carpool lanes seem. Sure, they reward those who get to ride to work or school with a bunch of other people stuffed into the car with them, but more than that, carpool lanes seem to punish those of us who don't know two or three other people who live on the same street as us and need a ride to the exact same place. Some of us have standing commitments before or after work and don't have the luxury of schlepping about town with a carload full of folks. And because of this deficiency, the rest of us get to sit in three or four lanes of bumper to bumper whilst six cars full of dorks get to work on time. Perhaps the grump in me fails to see the logic here.

Most mornings, by the time I have honked, cussed, rewritten legislation with my active imagination, cried from a touching story, swerved, tested my brakes, and shaken my fists in the air at the insanity of it all, I arrive at work with teeth gritted and an incredibly unfriendly scowl on my face. Like recess and tater tot Tuesdays in elementary school, I miss the light rail. I miss its ugly blue seats covered in some synthetic material that scared me. I miss the mentally incapacitated who would speak to themselves aloud while funking up the entire train car. I miss the people who fancied themselves street performers even though their impromptu songs could cause bleeding of the ear. I miss the friends with whom I'd ride each day while exchanging stories about the lunacy that took place during the work day. I miss the thirty minutes of solace I experienced on the way to work and on the way home. Now, it's just me, NPR, and the driving idiots. Damn.