Biking

Left right Left right

Rhythm of my pedals echoing my heartbeat

Breath puffs out in syncopation as my wheels

hug the concrete carpet

Rrrring ring Rrrring ring

U-locks nestling in the front wired basket

Bouncing merrily clapping in unison
They kiss with each bumpy ride

Green light red light
Flexing break grips as I look around
Smiles waves nods exchanged
"Your wheels are mismatched," chortles
my fellow bike commuter.

Commuter Thought No. 2

BART commuters are creatures of habit.  We stand on the right side of escalator leaving left side open to commuters anxious to catch a train, running down the escalator as of their very lives depended on it.  At the receiving end of these rushing commuters, I imagine a big breasted, aproned matronly woman with curlers in her hair brandishing a spatula threateningly, a child coloring a scene from My Little Pony in her coloring book while a babysitter glances impatiently at the clock on the wall, or a scantily dressed lady lounging on an animal print chaise sipping red wine surrounded by artfully scattered rose petals and tea candle lights.  I chuckle at the thoughts.  What or whoever waits on the other end, commuters take daily rituals seriously.

You can spot a tourist or an occasional BART commuter right away because she will stand on the left side of escalator as if her action fits the schematics of BART commuter physics.  Soon a lefty commuter shouts down impatiently, "move over to the right if you are just going to stand there!"  Red cheek stained, the culprit turns around with a questioning look on her face quickly transforming into a look of dawning understanding when faced with so many impatient, sometimes angry visages looking down at her.  Muttering a quiet apology under her breath, she steps aside to the right and the dammed up commuters once again resume their torrential descent toward the train platforms.

While in the train, commuters must resist the gravitational pull toward the train doors with all our might.  On rainy days, trains are jam-packed but you find commuters opting for the crammed vicinity of the door with their faces pressed into smelly armpits amidst poking backpacks instead of moving further down the train car to enjoy the spacious isle.  This magnetic pull to the door prevents the rest of us to squeeze into the train.  A frustrated man shouts, "we want to go home too, now move into the isles and make room for the rest of us!"  The slow shuffling of feet loosens the magnetic, invisible cords wrapped around the commuters' waists chaining them near the doors.  The commuters waiting to board the train impatiently stomp their feet and rush in as soon as a slight opening in the sea of bodies is visible, to occupy any free space available.

Oddly, I find these random shouts of frustration amusing and satisfying.  As with habits, we become complacent and do not pause to think about or speak out about daily going-ons.  We walk around like those zombies in Shaun of the Dead, each in our thoughts, thinking of deadlines at our jobs or bills we have to pay sitting on our kitchen table waiting to be put in the mailbox, then WHAM!  The frustrated "now move over so I can catch my train" shout-out from our fellow commuter jars us out of our daily zombie walk, and we nod and mumble our full agreement.  We should be awake to live every moment of our lives, be it in the packed train cars surrounded by strange faces because, after all, we are alive.

*Photo courtesy of Will Harper, SF Weekly Blogs

On the Way to BART this Morning

Big bright bubbles of sunny laughter burst

from my lungs and I grin with the blue sky,

It's a beautiful day today.

Smiling at the cute chick biking with her brown

leather vest hugging her black and white horizontal

stripe shirt pedaling her fixie downhill in rhythm to

Vampire Weekend's "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa"

filling my head as I skip down the street

and I grin with the green trees.

Smiling at the deliciously heady scent of onion bagel

wafting out from Specialty's at the corner
with its burgundy parasols dotting the front,

tempting the passerbys to take a minute, enjoy
sipping coffee, munching cinnamon sugar morning bun,

a slice of heaven right there, in the concrete jungle,

and I grin with the chattering birds.

Smiling at the woman in her smart chocolate suit

with a fluff of afro, chic sunglasses,
clickety clack of  her stiletto heels reverberating,

Elderly couple walking hand in hand,

matching pastel yellow hooded sweatshirt,

a gigantic fanny pack decorating her belly,

a tiny boxy ice cooler trailing him,

I wonder if Travis and I will be like that one day.

I smile and I laugh, joyously, 

letting the bubbles burst forth once more,

lifting my head up to the sky,

breathing in this lovely day.

Thank you, Mother Earth, for this moment,

I am truly blessed because I love to live and I live to love.

Commuter Thought No. 1

One morning during my commute to work, I stood on a BART platform a few feet away from an escalator waiting to catch a train into San Francisco.   Swaying from side to side, I was lost in the hypnotic sounds of Brazilian Girls while playing Sudoku on my I-Touch.  I am a seriously committed multi-tasker.  A pair of Nike sneakers caught my attention and I looked up from my exciting game to find a middle-aged African American man standing in front of me wearing a baseball cap and a windbreaker thrown over a T-shirt.  He was talking and gesturing, seemingly unaware of my blank stare.  I took ear-buds off my ears and asked in an indulgent manner, "Can I help you?"  "Does this train go to San Francisco?  You see, I am trying to get to a limousine company at Fisherman's Wharf in the city and I wanna know if I can take the next train here."  Pointing to the BART train/schedule display panel, I replied, "The next train to San Francisco will arrive in 2 minutes.  I am taking that train and getting off at the station you need to get to, so you can follow me out when you see me get off."  Encouraged, the man replied, "Thank you.  I went up to two other ladies before you, but they didn't wanna hear what I got to say.  Both ladies told me, "Sorry, not today, I don't have any."  I was wondering what they were talking about.  I guess they thought I was panhandling or something."  I found myself shaking my head and exclaiming outrageously, "That is messed up!"  But deep down, I knew that I was guilty of this at some level.

I use my ear-buds as a shield against unwanted verbal contact with other fellow commuters or panhandlers.  If I am not reading, writing or playing games on I-Touch, I stare at the moving darkness beyond train windows to avoid meeting anyone's eyes.  When has commuting become such a detached, inhumane process?  Because of so many commuters pack into BART and so many peddlers line our streets, have we desensitized ourselves and passively avoid stranger's contracts?  The man needed a simple help, and instead, we let our perception and our misguided judgment rule our lives and we ignore his harmless request.  Us commuters are all busy people and we use public transportation system to get to where we need to go, but isn't commuting a major part of our lives? Are our lives not affected by our commute?  I recall a tap on my shoulder one morning as I was typing away a story I was writing on my I-Touch memo pad, totally unaware of my surroundings.  I looked up to see a lady's face and my gaze followed her pointed finger out a BART window to see a bright rainbow hanging across the sky over West Oakland station.  My face broke into a smile to match hers and we giggled at the beauty shared.  It was a special moment I might have missed had she not chosen to share with me.  I was grateful for her spirit and was touched by her generosity.  No matter where we are and what we are doing with our lives, please take a moment to breathe in and appreciate the beauty of people around you.  Lend a hand if you can, it only takes a second out of your busy life.  We are humans after all.

 ~Photo from DailyCal.org, courtesy of Alan Wong.