Late

While I was awake at my normal 5:30 am this morning, by the time I left the house, I felt I was running late, given that I had to go back inside the house three times to collect all the various items I feel that I need to accomplish the day.  Oh no, I can't forget my phone.  No.  Oh no, I can't forget that letter I have to mail.  No.  Oh no, I absolutely cannot forget my bus pass, or I shall have to pay my way to and from work.


Oh no.


So by the time I actually managed to lock my door, and head out across the slush, I knew that I would miss my connection, and, therefore, be 15 minutes late.


Oh no.


So I made my way as quickly as I could in my dress shoes (it was an important meeting day, after all) across slushy sidewalks, and strove not to slip.  The snow that fell last night seemed to be testing my mettle, and by the time I reached the intersection at the bottom of the hill, I was 4 minutes behind schedule.


Oh no.


Now 4 minutes may not seem like much, but when you are a committed pedestrian and mass transit user, 4 minutes translates into being much later than is appropriate.


As I stepped into the crosswalk, however, a black and white police car sped past, and turned west.  I stopped to watch him, and the approaching SUVs on my side of the road.  None of the drivers of the three SUVs seemed to notice me, a six foot three inch man in an unmissable big black coat, however, so I had to stand there as they passed.


I thought of how in the past I used to shout at such miscreants.  Once a pedestrian is in the crosswalk, you see, motor vehicles are required to stop. 


Not these drivers.  Oh no. Perhaps they were late too.


Oh no.


These days I just shake my head in disgust at them, particularly the ones who make the guilty "oops" face at me.  If you can make that face, you can stop, friend.


So they passed, and I crossed the road and made it to my bus stop with a minute to spare.  


And I waited.


And waited.


I've never been a complainer about the bus being late as some bus riders are wont to be.  I figure there must be a pretty damn unfortunate reason for that lateness, and my bitching about it isn't going to do any good, but raise my blood pressure or foment misplaced anger in fellow passengers. 


So, oh well.  


By the time the slacker high school teens in their usual inappropriate garb of shorts and tee shirts came out to stand at the stop with me, I knew that my lateness was a foregone conclusion.


Oh well.


The bus came, as buses always do, and I boarded and commenced my usual morning reading.


All was normal until we approached the Catholic Church on the route, and then all on the bus craned to look at the collection of a dozen or so police cruisers blocking the street.  The driver turned the corner and took an odd route.  Half-way down the block of the normal route, a white tarp covered a body.


I learned later that a man was struck down in the street by a light blue SUV.  The driver of the SUV fled the scene.


Now as I sit and think of the man whose life was ended because he dropped his back pack, I write the following:


You in your steel tombs
We, the living, plead that you
Wake from your slumber.

The Lunatic on the Bus

The Lunatic on the Bus
Held his Arby’s bag close
As he laughed uncontrollably

The laugh turned into a cough
A hacking, phlegm-filled cough
And he smiled

It was nothing but a joke to him
And he gasped, out of breath
And began to weep

His fellow passengers sat silent
And watched the stops
Flick slowly by

Rhetoric of anger, any one?

I am less friendly to our beloved Utah Transit Authority than I have been in th past:

While I understand the mechanical problems this morning with TRAX were completely out of your control, UTA could have informed all of its drivers who arrive at TRAX stations to inform riders that there will be long delays or that there would be alternate bus service. The lack of information form UTA to the commuting public is unacceptable. Having drivers roll around TRAX stations yelling at people to get on (having no idea where they are going) is not an appropriate contingency plan.

I expect a reply to this message. I am quite disappointed that you have refused to reply to my previous complaint about the bus stop on 21st South and 21st East. Is this how the new UTA runs? Ignore your customers?

I have decided to be blunt this time since my previous rather cordial letter received no response at all. I my note that my complaint to Thanksgiving Point also received no response. Should I write to them again?

Perhaps I should start a new blog called "It's Not Wise to Upset a Wookie" or "Let the Wookie Win."* What do you think?

*For those of you not geek:

[R2-D2 and Chewbacca are playing the holographic game aboard the Millennium Falcon]
Chewbacca: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrgh
C-3PO: He made a fair move. Screaming about it can't help you.
Han Solo: Let him have it. It's not wise to upset a Wookiee.
C-3PO: But sir, nobody worries about upsetting a droid.
Han Solo: That's 'cause droids don't pull people's arms out of their sockets when they lose. Wookiees are known to do that.
Chewbacca: Grrf.
C-3PO: I see your point, sir. I suggest a new strategy, R2: let the Wookiee win.

Grrf!

Update (2:30 pm): I just received the following from UTA:

I do apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you. At this
time I have forwarded your concern to the appropriate department for
further review. Our commitment to our customers is to continue to
improve the service we provide. Please contact us should you have any
further questions or comments.

Thank you,

X X
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