Purses, backpacks, and carry-alls

As a child, I thought of purses as items of pure magic. Ask your mother for anything and it would appear out of this bag as if pulled from thin air. It may take an moment or two as she rummage within, muttering the whole time, "I know it is in here somewhere." Those must have been the magic words, for the next thing you knew she held before you the fan belt of the '71 AMC Hornet that sat at the side of the road. (Yes, I did own one for a short while as a teen.)

My mother's purse was always there. It seemed an extension of her arm. Something that she had complete control over whether it was a tiny, relatively-speaking) clutch or a large purse that would challenge the most experience flight attendant to get in an overhead bin. Yet, now, that I commute and walk the streets of Manhattan at least five days a week, my immature awe at the miraculous extra-dimensional, prehensile adaptivity of the purse has been crushed. Ok, I am still in awe of the things women stash in their purses and the sheer quantity, but the absolute control has been painfully driven from me.

This is most apparent when sitting on the aisle on the bus. I will state here that I am now including backpacks as well, whether carried by men or women. I use a backpack everyday I commute, ranging from a normal size to a very large backpack that can hold a 17" laptop, if necessary. When I enter tol has been painfully driven from me.

This is most apparent when sitting on the aisle on the bus. I will state here that I am now including backpacks as well, whether carried by men or women. I use a backpack everyday I commute, ranging from a normal size to a very large backpack that can hold a 17" laptop, if necessary. When I enter the bus the pack is in from of me, raised above the rider's shoulder level, and I hold the straps. This way I am in control of it. I have tried to keep it on my back, but inevitably, you are required to turn and bam you smack someone right in the ear with it. I have watched many people carry their backpack in such a way or hanging from one shoulder and sure enough they will hit someone and just continue down the aisle without so much as an "excuse me."

However, the worst offenders are women with their purses. They carry them as they normally would if they were walking down the middle of the road rather than a narrow aisle of a bus. If they do have the legendary control I hinted at above, they choose not to exercise that power as they march down the aisle swinging that purse left and right as they scan the bus for an empty seat. There goes someone's shoulder with a twist to the right. Pop goes the kneecap of a gentleman on the left. "Oh, pardon me, can I sit in the inner seat. Thanks" you had better be wearing a cup or be quick with the block as she swings past you into that seat. I never have liked singing soprano.

My advise, keep your bag in front of you, high and in control.


Next post, I speak of sidewalk control, which will be a multi-sectional post.

Rain, nuturer or menace

Rain, you are a nuturer of flora and fauna, rejuvenator of the withered, giver of respite during summer's heat, bane of my existance! How can you also bring headache, tension, and angst to those of us, who commute? Why this seeming opposition of roles?

Don't get me wrong. I love a nice, warm summer rain for company as I run. Heck, even a cool or cold rain can help wash the sweat off during a long, fast run. It is when it rains during my commute that I take issue. Yet, even that does not ring wholly true for it isn't the rain that is the problem. It is the people driving in the rain that are the actual culprates.

It is definitely not just people slowing down that causes the problem. In fact, it is just the opposite. The drivers are not slowing down. They are traveling at the normal speed that they would be on dry pavement. At least until they are forced to slow down. Why would they be forced to slow down?
It is enevitable that someone along the way is going to slam into the back of someone else and there begins the slow down. A long, slow, tortuoous commute brought on by unthinking, inconsiderate people. If they would slowdown ever so slightly, we might all make it home in one piece and at a half-way decent time.

Introduction

This space will contain personal observations, social commentary, rantings, and possible ravings. It will mostly be recorded during my commutes.
These will be my opinions for the most part. It is also a way for me to vent at times. I mean nothing personal by anything stated in these pages. Although, if some of the things strike a cord within you, please feel free to comment or add to my thoughts. Please no flaming or trollish comments.
This blog is mostly for me, but enjoy.