I recently came across an article, in the wonderfully free newspaper and L.A. Times underling, Brand X, touting the adventurous rides of a certain blogger (not me) on L.A.’s bus lines. Though I applaud the author for sniffing out and highlighting the oft erratic and tempestuous nature of metro’s particular clientele, the worst experiences of this girl amount to a small hill of beans. When it comes to strangers, I’ve got former porn star turned tweaked out judge and dirty Jesus; she’s got stares and inconvenience. We are obviously not on the same stranger train.
Wearing a neon Lululemon jacket, matching cap and sunglasses while carrying her to-go mug, we see our hero in action marching up the sidewalk to catch the morning’s ride. Though the article aims to present the eco-friendly purpose of public transit and the unexpected opportunities to help others out (when an old woman desperately cries out for change, the rider jumps to her aid) as well as providing a petri dish to mix with new people each day, by the end I’m left with the impression that though this chosen route often presents an occasion to observe severe juxtaposition of the city’s humanity – it’s older citizens with their life stories and shaky canes, foreigners trekking their way to Grauman’s Theatre and shopping on Melrose Avenue, Mom’s with kids and groceries, the homeless tied in sheets and mumbling, tired workers, hungry students – it all comes down to convenience. A car really would be better:
“Just to note, there are some pressing things about not having a car and riding the bus that I ponder at times. Like how long it takes me to get somewhere with the leaving the house early to walk the 15 minutes to the bus stop, to wait for the bus, to play stop-and-go down Wilshire. Or, when the bus is late. I mean, I know it happens but it really puts a kink in my schedule. Or, when you just want to listen to the radio and sing at the top of your lungs with the windows rolled down”
Certainly, the freedom of a car is wished for after several months on the MTA. Though the article is truly about “one bloggers Journey through the multicolored world of the MTA” it’s a pretty tame ride, and more like ‘one bloggers journey through the primary colors’ instead of a rainbow. I think given my experiences, and the visceral nature of time spent inches away from people’s faces, flattened against strangers bodies, there could have been more meat on those bones.
NO SAINTS IN L.A. 