Bari Quippe Boni.

Monday, June 16, 2008

That's Right. A Wide Eyed Longfellow I Said.

There was a time somewhere in between the ending of winter and the beggining of the rest of my life, when I took the bus on the regular. I was riding regularly enough to nessecitate a monthly pass. Of course I didn't ever purchase said pass. I felt in a way it was a form of selling out... I suppose. Admitting you ride the bus is the first step in riding the bus. The second is literally stepping on the bus.

On chilly mornings while I listened to something that lent itself to contemplation, I found myself thinking what I thought were profound thinkings, I think.

There is a bus stop 1 minute away from my home. It's positioned on a main route, whereas I live on a side street that runs parralel with it. The stop is on the other side of a set of buildings. So everyday I go to the stop it is effectively 'revealed' once I round the corner of which ever building I round the corner of.

(Side note: Walking past the laundry room of an apartment building in winter is like a walking past a large fan in the summer. But you also get that nice warm laundry smell as well.)
I am human. There I said it. Some days I'm late. Some days I sweat it. On these days when I dart from my back door, jump the last few stairs and don't look accross the street, I'm always eager for that 'reveal'ing moment. When I finally clear the last brick wall and the sign atop the pole is in view. That's when I know if I should keep running or slow down before I brashly dash into the thrashing trashffic. It's only then I'll see if someone else is waiting for the bus I want. If there's a people there, I have nothing to fear. The bus has not come and I will catch it. If there isn't a people there, then my eyes launch to the left to potentially see the lumbering frame of the bus chugging off, out of reach. Then to the right, to hopefully see the wide eyed longfellow on it's way. That's right. A wide eyed longfellow I said.

This made me think of back in the day before the invent of modern mining equipment. When we used canaries to their full potential and put them in cages in mines until they died. They were placed there to serve as a signal to miners. Should the canary die before it's time, it meant the air quality was poor and those damn dirty miners should run in a way that is effecient, outwards. A man waiting for the bus for me, is the same as a canary in a cage for a miner. They signify that everything will be ok. You can relax. But if either of them aren't there, you're in trouble. At least a miner could eat that canary. I'll get to work late and hungry.

This is fun for a minute.