Monday, December 28, 2015

THE PRETTY LIGHT

So the bus was a little too on time today, there being almost nobody on it and very little traffic on the roads this morning. I missed it from just a few feet away, and when the other 209 came going the other direction it was followed by another man who came around the corner and stood looking off into the distance for a bus he clearly thought was still about to come.

All in all, I waited about fifteen minutes for the bus--I know this only because the 209 is supposed to come every fifteen minutes at that time of day; it was far too cold to actually check my watch or get my phone out.

As I was waiting for these about fifteen minutes, I started noticing the light from the nearby traffic signal shining on the snow near my feet. The complex interaction of the signal light with the streetlight above my head combined with the angle of the ground upon which the snow was resting, filtered by the shadow of my physical presence made the light shining on the sides of the footprints in the snow look almost burgundy when the light was red, and a cool minty color when the light was green

DON'T JUDGE ME
IT WAS REALLY COLD
AND I HAD NOTHING TO DO
I HAD TO DO SOMETHING

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

WHO IS THIS MAN?

During my sesquipedalian commute to work yesterday, I found myself waiting for a bus on State Street downtown. State Street downtown is on an incline, for those of you unfamiliar with its geography; that it is inclined is never more apparent than when it is snowing and cars are sliding out everywhere. I'm generally in favor of helping these people (my Dear-stupid-Provo-driver radar is suspended on such occasions), and in fact I and a complete stranger with whom I had been sharing my sizeable umbrella helped someone pull away from the curb just after the experience I'm about to recount:

(Don't be fooled by what I've just recounted--I'm still a misanthrope when it's not snowing)

The 451 from Tooele pulled up. It had surely had a long and arduous journey to get to State Street, which was not improved by the fact that it couldn't pull away after letting people off. The wheels spun and spun and the bus went nowhere. Very demoralizing.

As I mentioned above, I'm not against helping people out in this situation, but I'm not sure I ever want to stand downhill of an MCI on an icy road, so I contented myself with watching in consternation. Imagine my surprise when a man who had been shoveling snow on the sidewalk dropped his shovel, ran over, and pushed on the corner of the MCI bus until it successfully pulled away and continued up the road. All of us who were waiting for buses observed this in utter bemusement. I thought about snapping a picture, but it seemed classless to photograph someone else working that hard, and I would have had to take my gloves off, so I forbore.

When, after a life age of the earth


the 200 pulled up, I observed this same man a couple of blocks away helping a produce truck pull away from the curb.

Later yesterday I would shovel heavy, wet snow for about two-and-a-half hours, followed by redoing my driveway this morning (including everything the snowplow threw onto it). My whole body was tired, and as I tried to walk to the bus stop this morning over all the snow that people hadn't shoveled off their front walks, my legs protested: "Dude, you're going to have to take better care of us if you want us to go this fast ever again." I missed the bus I was intending to catch because I couldn't walk fast enough (fortunately, the buses were pretty on time this morning). I can't imagine shoveling snow on multiple blocks of State Street and then even imagining I had enough energy to push an MCI.

My respects to this man. Someone give him a medal before he hurts himself.

SNOW SALUTE

So, yesterday. What a day, huh? It's so hard to remember when it's not snowing that it snows in Utah.

Yesterday I left for work about 40 minutes earlier than usual. I got to work about 40 minutes later than usual. Work was like counting the survivors after a natural disaster. I was far from the last one to arrive! Naturally, a number of people complained about their drive to work, as people who drive to work during a snowstorm will. But I hope that amongst our complaining we all remembered the people who left for work three hours before I got up, so that they could drive through a snowstorm all freaking day.

Yes, I'm talking about the bus drivers. On my bus to work yesterday, a couple of people were like, "Why are you so late?" and the bus driver, to his credit, calmly gestured around as if to say, "Good sir, were you not just standing out in the middle of the reason I am so late?" Seriously, I get that it sucks to stand in the snow for a half hour; I've done it. But I don't hold it against the bus driver.

And, can we have a moment of silence for the UTA twitterpeople? who knew when they woke up yesterday morning that they were going to have a very long day even after their long journey to work?

(observes moment of silence)

I'm ridiculously grateful I didn't have to drive yesterday, and I'm grateful to those who did so I didn't have to. And if you'd like to not drive next time it snows like the dickens, well, you know who to ask.

(I'll be waiting)

Saturday, December 12, 2015

OLD MAN

The other night I walked home from the grocery store, which is likely to be a thing of the indefinite future because Prop. 1 didn't pass in Salt Lake County.

(Those of you whom I hold personally responsible, you know who you are)

It was cold and raining that night, and I was carrying five laden grocery bags and an umbrella. Fortunately I was not holding a gallon of milk with my bare fingers, but my fingers were exactly one skosh less impliable than if that had been the case. I got to the door of our humble abode and rang the doorbell because I wasn't sure I could unpry my fingers to operate a key in the lock.

commutergirl answered the door and gently chided me for inadequately protecting myself from the cold. I answered with false bravado, because I am a man, "I used to do this all the time, you know."

To which she responded, "You're not young and single anymore."

WAIT A MINUTE, GUYS
AM I GETTING OLD?

I refuse to believe I am an old man.

Wednesday, December 2, 2015

DIM

A few days ago I got a new phone. Hooray.

I used this phone to flag down the 209 the other night, because it was dark. I was unfamiliar with the bus-flagging-down capabilities of my new phone, but after a cursory glance (as the bus was approaching) I decided that the peachy color of the default lock screen would suffice, and I began waving the phone animatedly in graceful arcs through the air in front of my person. I was vindicated when the bus pulled over to let me on.

The bus driver said amiably, "Even though it was dim, thanks for the light."

I'm pretty sure he was just making conversation, and he certainly didn't have to thank me, but a small part of me was like, dude.


I'm the BUSNINJA. If I didn't want you to see me, you wouldn't have seen me.