Bob CollinsI’m a sucker for stories from the bus, usually tweets from people in real-time, trying to get somewhere on a Metro Transit vehicle.
So I strongly recommend Hannah Prichard’s post today on streets.mn in which she documents life on Route 7, a “sleepy route,” she says is rarely full.
The bus provides a better glimpse into our collective humanity, warts and all, than perhaps any other venue.
“The thing I like about the bus is the human element,” she writes, “witnessing the patterns in other peoples lives, interacting with them, seeing them interact with one another. You don’t get that in a car (and only a little on a bike).”
Like what?
The woman who stopped her car in the middle of Plymouth Avenue when she saw me running to catch the bus on Monday. The wave she gave me to cross in front of her had the urgency of someone who understood what it’s like to miss the bus because you’re on the wrong side of the road.
The morning bus driver that I had pegged as crabby, a few days later taking great care to get a woman and her child in a stroller situated in the front of the bus…only to scold her a few minutes later for talking on the phone.
The toddler that waved good-bye to everyone while being pulled backwards in a stroller down the aisle on his way of the bus. And everyone that waved back.
Delightful.
