Tonight, my friend Coby is performing at Conor Byrne in Ballard. (He’s opening for Ali Marcus, who’s celebrating the release of her most recent CD.) Coby’s show starts at 8, and the first song in his set is going to be about–I’ll give you moment to take a guess–the bus!
And he was already my favorite rock star–OK, except for Prince.
Waiting in line to board my bus home this evening, I stood behind a guy with a backpack covered in buttons. Some examples of the messages:
“Consume less. Share more.”
“Be nice to mice: Don’t test on them.”
“I’m not a lesbian, but I hate men.”
The first two were pretty straightforward. I have no idea what the third was supposed to mean, but it kept my mind occupied until it was my turn to get on. Which led me to this conclusion: Backpack buttons are a bus rider’s equivalent to bumper stickers.
Bumper stickers, you see, serve two primary purposes:
1) To entertain and distract bored drivers who are stuck in traffic.
2) To provide a vehicle (pardon the pun) for car owners to share their beliefs (and biases) with strangers.
Backpack buttons serve similar purposes for transit riders. They entertain and distract bored riders (of which, of course, there are very few) who are stuck waiting at stops, and they allow us to use our “portable bumpers” to declare our positions to anyone who happens to get stuck behind us. As if the bus chick bag didn’t already have enough uses.
While we’re on the subject of bumper stickers…
Heidi from Redmond sent me this a couple of weeks back:
The Concourse of Hypocrisy: A cavalcade of gas-guzzling contemporary automobiles with hypocritical bumper stickers
My favorite example from the site:
Calling folks out like this isn’t usually my flavor (it seems less than constructive), but the point is valid. I know I’ve made note of similarly baffling righteousness a time (or fifty).
It seems that some “bus friends” are friendlier than others. From Dan in Bellevue*:
Thought I should mention that a “bus buddy” is not the same as a “bus friend” as I found out a couple years ago. I had gotten on a bus on a rainy day riding through south Seattle (the 174 I think) and had on my black bicycle rain pants. A guy who I presumed was mentally challenged got on and sat down in the seat in front of me. He glanced over his shoulder a few times, and eventually asked me if I would be his “bus friend.” Well, there seemed no harm in that so I said OK. So he moved to the seat next to me. I thought we were about to have a conversation, but then I felt a hand on my knee. [After I corrected him, he said] “Sorry,” …but didn’t get up from the seat. … I realized I may have just gotten a taste of what women go through when they get hit on. In any case, I resolved to wear my rain pants less often.
* I removed some of Dan’s dialogue, but I think (I hope) I stayed true to his point.
Also…
In case I didn’t make it clear in my original definition, “trife” is not solely used to describe insane behavior on buses; it has many transit applications. For example, it is often used to describe people who are routinely late for the bus (and the behavior that causes them to be routinely late for the bus). This behavior can be unintentional (the result of oversleeping or underestimating time needs) or intentional (relying on the lateness of buses to plan one’s schedule**). The next time you are late to work for one of these reasons, don’t bother to offer a long explanation. Just say, “I was trife this morning and missed the bus.” Or, if you’d prefer to use the word as a noun: “Trife caused me to miss the bus.”
**One day I dedicate an entire post to this phenomenon.
Here are a few fun submissions from Kim in Shoreline. (I edited Kim’s definitions some, but I think that mine are true to her original intentions. Hopefully, Kim will correct them if they aren’t.)
Bus buddy: A person you often run into on (and probably know from) the bus. When you run into this person, you sit with him or her and usually enjoy a pleasant conversation, but the friendship rarely extends beyond transit. (See also: bus family)
Imaginary friend: The apparently invisible person sitting next to that bus rider who insists on sitting in the outside seat even though the inside seat in empty and the bus is full. (Usage: From one bus rider to another, “Is that your imaginary friend?”)
Phobe: The term for the rider (defined above) who refuses to move to the inside seat, apparently due to a phobia.
B.O. bounce: The act of abruptly getting up and moving after sitting down next to a rider who is emitting a less-than-ideal odor. (See also: funky bus)
On the first one: Kim used the term “bus friend” for this, but I wanted to have some way of distinguishing between a friend you make on the bus who remains relegated to your bus rides, and a friend you make on the bus (a la Bus Nerd and Coby) who becomes part of your world. I’m not sure if “bus friend” is the right term for the latter, but it’s a good candidate.
On the last one: I have to say, I try not to do this. Sometimes folks are in an unpleasant state due to circumstances outside of their control, and the last thing they need is a reminder that other people notice. The teenage girls aboard have no doubt already let this person know that he/she is offensive, so I try to hold my breath until I can discreetly make a move. I will admit, though, that I have (more than once) been tested beyond my ability to endure.
Poetry on Buses is back. This year’s theme is “Dreams.”
4Culture and King County Metro present Poetry on Buses 2007. We are seeking poetry written by residents of King, Kitsap, Pierce and Snohomish Counties. The theme for Poetry on Buses 2007 is Dreams. Selected poems will be displayed on interior bus placards, published in a book and featured at a poetry reading in November 2007. Selected poets will also receive an honorarium of $125 for use of the poems on the bus.
Here are the submission guidelines:
• Only one (1) poem per applicant.
• Poems must be 50 words or less not counting the title.
• Poems must be authored by the applicant and previously unpublished.
• All residents of King, Kitsap, Pierce and Snohomish Counties in Washington State may submit except for the following: 4Culture staff, board members or advisory committee members, selection jurors, and the immediate family members and business partners of any of the above.
• Copyright for published poems remains with the authors.
• Poems must be submitted at www.4culture.org/publicart/poetry/index.htm on or before April 30, 2007 to be eligible.
I’m no poet (leave that to Bus Nerd), but I might be inspired to submit a little something this year. I love this program!
This month’s Golden Transfer goes to Charlie Tiebout, a retired full-time and current part-time Metro driver (notice a theme this week?). In his years at Metro, Charlie has driven almost every route in the system, but in the last 15, he’s stuck mostly to North Base routes: 31, 41, 65, 66, 67, 68, 71, 72, 73, 76, 77, 79, 312, and 306.
Back in his full-time days (1973, to be exact), Charlie was Metro’s first Santa.
I asked Metro if it was okay. [They said yes,] and they even paid for the Santa suit rental. $50 for the first day and $25 each day after. Big bucks in 1973!
One of Charlie’s “Bus Santa” stories:
Mom and five year old son hop on the route 21 bus headed downtown. The kid’s mouth drops [when he sees me in my Santa suit] and he gets excited. It turns out this kid is a regular on this bus and even knows how to call out all the stops. So I arrive at 1st and Spokane and turn around and announce to the bus passengers (while looking at the little boy) “Santa has no idea where to go next. Does anyone know where the bus goes?” The kid was by my side all the way to the Pike Place Market announcing the stop and even transfer points. So dang cute, the little old ladies on the bus were in tears. Thank goodness for my big beard because I was in tears too.
Awww…
These days, Charlie volunteers as a concierge at Seattle International Hostel (which, unfortunately, will be closing next month), using his expert knowledge to tell visitors how to get around our fair city on the bus. He even gives away free bus tickets, courtesy of his wife, Marti. Marti has adopted a bus stop and so receives 60 free tickets from Metro every three months. If Charlie doesn’t give her tickets away at the hostel, she donates them to Noel House. (We stop adopters from Good Shepherd have been wondering what to do with those…)
Thanks, Charlie, for spending 30+ years helping folks get around Seattle–oh yeah–and for marrying such a cool, generous, bus-lovin’ woman’.
According to my new, second-favorite* driver, that’s the 48, because it’s a “long drive with a short putt to the beach.” The thing is, a long drive with him at the wheel wouldn’t be half bad. The man kept us entertained over the loudspeaker for the entire (not-so-long) ride on Friday afternoon, announcing landmarks and businesses of note at every stop. At Union, the transfer to the 2 (“you know how those lake routes are”); at Cherry, Catfish Corner (“wouldn’t mind a piece of peach cobbler right about now”); at Jefferson, Medgar Evers pool (“it’s Black History Month–make sure you learn who that is“). Between stops, he also shared his other nicknames for the route he drives–“Dr. 48” and “the heavyweight of the system”– and reminded us that, courtesy of Metro, we were “rollin’ on big wheels.”
And yet again, I find an occasion to quote the bus chick pick-up artist:
A bus is like a massive, pimping SUV with 4000 horse power and lots of 45 inch wheels. Can your ride compete with that, b*tch? I didn’t think so.
*Smooth Jazz continues to hold the top spot.
Speaking of transit-inspired language…
[Note: This post is updated regularly as new terms are added.]
Bus luh, n: A bus-based interaction between two people who are attracted to each other. The interactions vary widely, but participants are always: riding on or waiting for a bus; in love, lust, or very deep like; and engaging in some sort of physical contact.
Bus mack, n: An attempted bus hook-up, in which one rider approaches another in a way that indicates romantic and/or sexual interest. On rare occasions, a bus mack can result in future instances of bus luh (see above).
Bus foul, n: An action or behavior–on a bus or at a bus stop–that negatively impacts other riders; a bus equivalent of a party foul. An example: taking up more than one seat when the bus is full. (For more examples, see above.)
Bus chick bag, n: A reusable bag that experienced riders use to carry bus necessities. These necessities might include: bus pass, wallet, book, cell phone, laptop, bus schedules, umbrella, gloves, hand warmers, flashlight, glue stick, Swiss Army knife, compass, notebook, pens, pencils, hair implements, plastic bags, chapstick, mascara, mp3 player, snacks, to-do list, city maps, lotion, antibacterial gel, digital camera… Bus chick bags take many forms but are most commonly backpacks.
Pack jam, n: An unfortunate incident that involves a strap or buckle of a rider’s bus chick bag (see above) becoming entangled with (or trapped beneath) some part of the bus or another rider at the moment the rider is preparing to disembark. This usually results in frantic shouts for the driver to “Wait!” and is often followed by extreme embarrassment.
Bus-wide discussion, n: A conversation that involves at least three passengers who were not previously acquainted and is conducted for the benefit of everyone on the bus. Common topics for bus-wide discussions: weather, elections, major sporting events, “the good old days.”
Lentement, a, n: Slow, either literally or figuratively; uncool; a person or object that exhibits the aforementioned characteristics.
This term can be applied beyond the world of public transportation.
Schmipod, n: A non-Apple (read: affordable) mp3 player (preferably with a radio tuner) that one can use to listen to music, podcasts, recorded books, and other audio delights on buses and at stops.
Bus crush, n:
1. Feelings of overwhelming admiration–occasionally, though not necessarily, of a romantic nature–for a fellow passenger; excessive interest in, or curiosity about, a fellow passenger.
2. The object of such admiration or interest.
BWI, v: Busing while intoxicated. Riding any form of public transportation while under the influence of alcohol or other (less legal) drugs. BWI is usually identified by the telltale scent of the intoxicating substance and its associated bizarre, antisocial, or otherwise transit-unfriendly behavior. (See also: bus foul, trife, Seahawks Special)
BDP, n: Bus driver’s pet or bus driver’s pest, depending on the circumstances. A person who sits in the front of the bus, in the seat nearest the driver, and engages the driver in conversation for the duration of their ride. BDPs tend to be regular riders and commonly offer advice and assistance (solicited and otherwise) to other passengers.
BCiT, n: Bus chick in training. A young person, usually under the age of 12, who is learning the bus-riding ropes. A BCiT always rides with an experienced bus chick while she masters basic bus survival skills, such as when to ring the bell, how and when to pay, and appropriate bus behavior–and then more advanced skills, including schedule-reading, trip-planning, and street safety. If she shows promise, she is permitted to ride without a mentor, and, eventually, initiated into the sisterhood of full-fledged bus chicks.
Bus legs, n: The ability to effectively balance oneself while standing or walking on a moving bus, no matter how unpredictable the traffic or inexperienced the driver.
The transfer trade, n The system of exchanging bus tickets, paper transfers, and bus passes for money or other items of value.
Stop sense, n: The ability to detect when one’s transit destination is approaching without looking out the window or at the digital display at the front of the vehicle; a subconscious awareness of the location of one’s transit stop.
Stop sense is essential for those who enjoy transit catnaps, regularly read while riding, or frequently find themselves sucked into the black hole of their smartphones.
OBC, n: Original bus chick. A person who has actively chosen transit over other forms of transportation for several decades; an extremely experienced transit rider.
OBCs have all the necessary skills and equipment for bus successful bus living and tend to have encyclopedic knowledge about routes and rules. Most have personal friendships with their regular drivers.
In May of 2005, Bus Nerd and I took a trip to Paris. I speak French fairly fluently and so gave him a few lessons (enough so he would feel comfortable ordering in restaurants and reading the odd sign) before we left. He decided, in true nerd fashion, to practice his newfound skills by speaking only French on the trip–even to me.
On the RER ride from the airport, which was taking longer than he expected and jeopardizing an appointment in the city, he turned to me and blurted out the only French word he knew that could communicate his frustration: “Lentement!”
Lentement (my best attempt at a phonetic interpretation: lontmaw), you see, is the French word for slowly.
I fell out. (So, I assume, did most of the French people riding near us on the train. At least they had the decency to do it in their heads.)
Thankfully, the ride was not as “lentement” as it originally seemed (turns out, the map was somewhat misleading), and we arrived in the city right on time. For the rest of the trip, the word became our private joke. If we were stuck behind slow pedestrians or waiting to cross the street at an interminable traffic light, one of us would whisper it to the other. Line too long at a museum? Grounds for a “lentement.” And etc.
The tradition continued after we returned to Seattle (often, not surprisingly, when we were riding the 4). Over time, it has evolved to encompass anything that we consider to be figuratively slow, or, to put it more succinctly, uncool. Some examples: SUVs, public displays of bus luh, Flavor of Love (Moni, I’m looking at you), modeling a ball gown at an art walk…
Lentement can be used as almost any part of speech, but it is most commonly used as an adjective (“That is so lentement!”) or a noun (“What a lentement!”). You get the picture. (I hope.)
Why am I telling you this? Because, almost two years after the Paris trip, I still use the word all the time. At least once a week, I am tempted to use it in a post. And then I realize that no one, other than Bus Nerd, my brothers, and a few unlucky friends, knows what the heck it means. Now you do. That makes you a lentement, too.