A Tale of Two Cities (cont'd)

I am bilingual by matter of birthright. When I started in kindergarden I only spoke Spanish. Knowing two languages has its advantages. I'm sure you, dear reader, agree. But what does one do when someone needs help and doesn't speak your language? This happened to me while driving the bus in Los Angeles and then also here in Austin.

It was Saturday morning in the spring time and I was driving the 480 route in L.A. I was at the layover point on the west side of downtown, just pass the financial district. An elderly couple, who, as it turned out, were visiting from another country. They became lost and came up to my bus for help. The man started talking to me and all I could think was, "Oh, no. They only speak Italian. The man continued talking to me, friendly, but I could not understand. And then the lady started talking to me. I remember thinking how beautiful their language sounded. Like music, it had melody and rhythm. Suddenly I realized I knew what they were asking me. I also realized I had put up a wall as soon as I heard the foreign language. A lot of the words were so close to Spanish that I could make out what they were saying. I thought to myself, "I bet if I speak Spanish they will understand me." I said something in Spanish and sure enough it worked. They started talking faster and I paid close attention. I spoke Spanish to them and they spoke Italian to me and we were able to have a conversation. I was able to help them find the place they were looking for.

Believe it or don't, three years later that exact event happened again, like a rerun on t.v. Again it was Saturday morning in spring time. Only this time I'm driving the number 1 route in Austin. I stop to pick-up passengers on the drag in front of the co-op. Again an elderly couple come up to me for directions. And they only speak Italian. But this time I just go right into it. I talk to them in Spanish and I see their worried look disappear like magic. "It's a small world after all." Read more

A Tale of Two Cities?

Back in the early '90's I worked as a bus driver in the city of Los Angeles. There were differences and similarities with how the buses in L.A. and buses here in Austin went about doing the same thing, that is, picking up and dropping off passengers.

One of the differences was in how we operated buses in downtown. In L.A. we didn't pick-up passengers at every corner. We pick-upped at every other corner. But there were bus stops at every corner.

Here's how it worked. Let's say, for fun, that you are the bus driver. And your route goes along 1st Street. Your stops would be on Los Angeles, Spring and Hill Streets, but you would skip Main, Broadway and Olive Streets. There are always other buses along your route and the stops you skipped would belong to those. But you, as the operator, would not stay in line behind the bus in front of your bus like we do so here in Austin. After you picked-up passengers, you change lanes and move in front of the other bus, which in turn, will move in front of your bus after boarding people. I always thought of it as playing leapfrog. It worked well.

I have to add that a city block in L.A. is longer than here in Austin. I can walk from 2nd to 3rd Streets while holding my breath. I'll use Austin for an example. If you, as the bus operator, picked-up folks at 11th Street, your next stop would be at Cesar Chavez Street. That is about how far apart the bus stops are in downtown L.A.

I'll end this tale of two cities with a quote from someone I love. "A-du-a-du-a-ta-a-ta-that's all folks." Read more

On the Busy Number 1 Route

Don't call me Ishmael.

In his adventurous novel, "Moby Dick," Herman Melville's protagonist Ishmael tells us why he feels the need to go to sea. He says in part, "Whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul...and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper-hand of me that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street and methodically knocking people's hats off---then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball."

How ghastly. I have never felt an urge, not even an iota of one, to assault people, even when my hypos have had me in a sturdy headlock. And certainly I have never felt a "damp, drizzly November" in any part of my soul. When I do I'll make sure to buy more life insurance.

Poor Ishmael. He would not have made a good bus operator. It would stress him out easily. Especially if he had to work the number 1 route, which I do every weekday after I finish the Leander Express.

The number 1 is our busiest line. I drive the 1L, which goes from Tech Ridge Park & Ride at Howard Lane to Southpark Meadows, at the new shopping center at Slaughter and I-35. On the map in the schedule booklet it looks almost like the Mississippi River.

Because it is so busy and taxing on operators, I had to look at it from another angle and see what it affords me. I found a prize. It is ripe with opportunity to help others. Like assisting a visually-impaired man cross a busy downtown street so he can hop on another bus; helping an elderly lady unload her groceries; helping a young mom carry the stroller on board; helping confused out-of-towners with information; or, helping all my passengers by staying on time so they won't miss their connecting route. These opportunities, as they pop-up, I hit out of the park like a slugger. Because I know if I allow one opportunity to help someone go without my aid, I will never get it back. Read more

Wednesday Morning on the 987

The oblong box cruises south on Mopac. It is 6:22 on a mid-week morning and still dark outside. The interior lights are off. Two individual overhead spotlights are on as two of my passengers read. That means 21 passengers are asleep in the recliner seats. That makes me feel good because my smooth driving lulled them to sleep, which is what they wanted and looked forward to when they boarded at Leander and Lakeline. A 15-minute nap will help them get through the morning. As I drive this particular morning I see a meteor streak down and quickly disappear. It is the end of its million mile journey. I don't mention this to my passengers. It is too early to wake them.

But like almost all good things, this ride, as comfy and cozy as it is, is disturbed at 6:26 when the first passengers deboard from the bus. I go into my routine. "Time to get up. Don't forget anything. Make sure you have what belongs to you. Up and at 'em. Show them what you're made out've." Reminds me of when I was the duty N.C.O. in the Marines and had to call reveille, decades back. I walked the barracks to make sure every marine was up. Job well done.

My passengers know me by my name because this is the third time (or "mark-up," to use transportation lingo) I've had this run, the 987 Leander.

Each of my passengers smiles at me as they walk out and onto work. It's priceless.

They are in a good mood because their morning commute was quiet. Uneventful. Just as they like it. I did my part in making their day start off well. In turn they will make other people's day better. It is a chain reaction made from positive energy. At 6:44 the bus is empty except for me. And I think to myself, "Another job well done." Read more

A Million Miles

"Congratulations, Leo." That is what I heard from many well-wishers (they did wish me well) last week on my crossing over the million mile safety record. I am looking forward to receiving my green patch to wear on my uniform. Really. It feels like being awarded a merit badge from the Boy Scouts (I'm guessing it feels good for Girl Scouts, too) for something you worked hard for. That is my feeling about it. Call me a sentimentalist. Or don't. Capital Metro has quite a number of million milers. And also a few two million milers. A million miles is almost equal to two round trips to the moon, and it takes 13 years of safe driving to achieve it. What is amusing, a little not a lot, is that I drove the million miles going north, south, east and west all over Austin. I am glad Capital Metro acknowledges our accomplishments. I can compare this with being in the Marine Corps (I was in the Marines). Both are quick to reward you for your achievement.

I want to thank my friend Erica for asking me to write for the Capital Metro blog. Thanks! I will do my best to stay inside the theme of "pi," at least my interpretation of pi. And that is the relationship of things, situations or people around me and how it pertains to or affects me. And now if you will excuse me, I have to drive the bus. Read more