Green Bus Blues

Following a Yahoo! Picks link, I found the best of craigslist. One of the items was a Portland listing on how to ride the bus to OHSU. The normal person might not be interested in something from such a limited community, but it reminded me of something I saw back at UVA. For those who might not know, Franny and I met driving buses for the University Transit Service. One of UTS's major duties was transporting healthcare workers from the large university parking lots to work at the hospital. One of the riders, Erla Hagen, wrote a piece for some hospital newsletter regarding her experiences. I got hold of it and reprinted it in our "Transit Lines", the bus driver newsletter/party notice/rambling space. (This was done completely without Erla's knowledge or permission. I've never met Erla, except maybe as her driver.) I wrote it at home, and since my hard drive looks a lot like my garage, I still have it ten or so years later. Once again without Erla's input, I reprint it for any bus drivers that might be amused. (I know of only two that read this, but you never know.) Erla, if you see this and care one way or the other, let me know.

(On a similar note, I also liked the open letter from an elevator. Note that both craigslist links are rated PG-13 for the f-bomb. Sorry, Tutu.)

on the "green" bus blues...
Erla Hagan

Another one takes the bus... If you are one of the employees who ride the "GREEN" bus from U Hall to the hospital in the morning AND back to the parking lot in the evening, this long winded, country-western tale of the "Green Bus Blues" is for you, your immediate supervisor, the incredibly nice folks who drive the "GREEN" route, AND anyone with a guitar who wishes to put it to music.

On the front of the bus shelters (where the rain comes in over the seat only AND where it says to post-no-bills) are many sheets of instructions on the art and luck of riding the appropriate bus to work or class. I'm sure you "BLUE" bus (Scott Stadium to the Hospital and back) folks have your own romantic lore but this ballad-to-be is for "GREEN" bus people.

A case in point... If it is Wednesday AND it is before noon but after eleven, AND the temperature is above 50° AND it rained the night before AND the "GREEN" bus is facing up hill at the main shelter, AND the driver has a diaper pin piercing his left ear...That "GREEN" bus will go through Copeley Hill (the 8 minute scenic route) before going to the Hospital.

However, if it is Thursday, AND it is between 3:00 pm and 5:00 pm, AND the rain didn't start until after the sun was fully up AND it will not get above 35° that day AND there is a person in a purple shirt in the back of the bus, AND the driver is a female AND the bus is facing downhill at the main shelter...That "GREEN" bus will also go through Copeley before going to the Hospital.

Should the temperature be hovering around a sticky 92° AND the air conditioned "GREEN" bus is filled to capacity with Georgio perfume, Old Spice deodorant, Crest toothpaste, Dial soap, Desenex foot powder, Juicy Fruit gum, AND garlic bagels as well as a too ripe banana, AND the air conditioning is either not working, or the driver doesn't like it, AND the "GREEN" bus has been sitting at the main shelter for more than 8 minutes but not a full 10...That "GREEN" bus will go through Copeley before going to the Hospital.

On the other hand, if it is very cold, very wet, very late, AND a tad foggy, AND the bus was stuck behind a fender bender for 13 minutes before it was facing down the hill at the main shelter AND there is a basketball game the same night AND you can see the pale green glow of the digital "GREEN" route bus sign over the driver's seat AND the driver is eating sunflower seeds, AND the wet umbrella of the lady in the seat next to you is dripping on your new suede shoes...You are going to go directly to the Hospital, ASAP. However, due to the basketball game AND other circumstances too numerous to mention AND beyond anyone's control, there is always a possibility that you may not be permitted to return to your car within the same 24 hour period.

If it is beginning to bluster AND the approaching bus has obvious available seating, AND the driver is a person of either sex wearing a smile, AND the driver's neighbor on the left gives a 6 (on a scale of 1-to-10) to new age music, AND you can see the unmistakable "Green" glow of the sign in the distance, beckoning you to RUN to catch the bus AND it is your first "good hair" day AND you are carrying a book bag or purse, a briefcase, a sheet cake for the office party, AND you have not had that first cup of coffee to jump start your brain... you, breathless, with drooping hair, squashed sheet cake, and possibly heartburn, will just make it to the stop in time to see that the digital, "Green:" glow says "BLUE ROUTE" and neither it nor you will be going to Copeley Hill or the Hospital.

Are you keeping up? The bus is coming! What to do? Think, think, think.

A CAVEAT...On special holidays...(Like the Ides of March AND Hug your Turtle Day), all buses will be labeled "GROUNDS LOOP"--no matter which direction they are facing or which direction you wish to go...GET ON...the loop will put you out of circulation (no pun intended) for a full 30 minutes, but you will be sitting down AND out of the weather.

Oh yes, the last of the pale yellow signs on the shelter remind you to "PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THAT ALL OF THE BUS SCHEDULES ARE SUBJECT TO CHANGE WITHOUT NOTICE" AND "HAVE A GOOD DAY!"

_________________________________________________


Erla Hagan is editor of chicken~soup, director of bodytalk, and a "Green" Bus rider.

Happy Retirement Dad, almost

In case anyone is interested and is anywhere near Northern Virginia, I'm sure you can still catch this party in action. I'm guessing it might still be going on right now at a little before 10 pm their time. Dad opted for a happy hour at a pub rather than the standard required attendance luncheon where everyone eats cake, makes small talk, and really just wishes this old guy would go away. I can't say that I blame him. This event was originally going to be called a "Marine Corps Beverage Call" in honor of his early service thirty-odd years ago, but I guess that didn't fit the silly graphics. He's officially got a few more days, but I can't imagine any work will get done, so Happy Retirement, Dad.

Happy Birthday Phil!

Today is my father-in-law's birthday, one day after his daughter. They've always enjoyed sharing the fun. I guess I don't have much of a leg to stand on worrying about losing my thunder to the Mizz's birthday one week before mine.

I won't say just how old Phil is today, but according to Janet, he now gets half-price movies at AMC. I guess that's something.

Anyway, happy birthday Phil. It's been nice being able to share it with you.

Happy Birthday Franny!

I just realized, I'm up late enough for it to be Franny's birthday. She is now officially 29 again. Anyway, I think that's the annual birthday she's decided to have.

Happy Birthday, Babe. Love you.

(That's an old picture, but I still like it.)

Insomniac

I'm not sure why I'm awake in the middle of the night, but I'll take the opportunity to write, I suppose.

It's been another busy week, but not super interesting until Friday. Franny's folks came to town, partly to see the Mizz and partly to celebrate birthdays for Franny and her dad, one day apart. What her dad didn't know is that her brother Sam also came out for the festivities. Excellent surprise.

Friday, we went out to eat at Mother's Bistro. They claim to love kids -- how could they not with that name? That said, the Mizz seemed to be really testing that theory. We were wondering if he would be the first kids blacklisted from Mother's. I ended up taking him outside for a walk where we found a bench he could climb in and out of. He wouldn't stop until a couple of girls, maybe three or four years old with face paint from the Rose Festival, saw him through the window and were enthralled by him. He, in turn, did not want to stop watching them. He's got a great story for daycare about the older twin chicks that were checking him out.

Speaking of Rose Festival, I managed to forget about the Starlight Run that I was going to do until it was much too late. I got all sick and travelling and forgot all about it and now it happened Friday evening and I didn't even notice. That's motivation for you. Maybe next year.

This weekend we stayed at a great house at Bella Beach with the inlaws for a couple days. Bella Beach is a neighborhood a little south of Lincoln City on the Oregon Coast. True to Oregon, the weather sucked until we left this morning. Just lots of rain, but we still had fun. The front coming through made for some awesome wave to watch, something Oregon usually only sees much in the winter. The house we rented was fairly baby-proof, so chasing Mizz was still a necessity, but not as difficult as some of the knick-knack laden places we've stayed before.

Franny and I managed to escape for a little while for a pseudo birthday dinner Sunday night while the inlaws watched the baby monitor. From what I heard, it didn't require much, but we were grateful for the time out with just the two of us, something that doesn't happen near enough these days. We ate at Kyllo's in Lincoln City. A decent spot with an excellent view. It's built up on stilts right at the beach and we arrived about an hour before high tide, so the water was about as close as it got. It was situated right at the mouth of the "D" River, which is about 100 yards from the beginning of the "D" River, which, according to the sign, makes it the world's shortest river. We debated what constituted a river versus a creek or stream or whatever, but we just have to assume there's an international governing body that regulates these things.

This evening we had an early birthday dinner for Franny and Phil, since Sam has to leave early on Tuesday. We ate at Higgin's in downtown Portland. The Mizz was not invited on this trip. Most of us had the steak special, which was excellent. Very tender with a wonderful sauce. Highly recommended. One of the fun things about Franny's parents visiting is that we get to eat well. They like to eat at new nice restaurants, so we get to eat at new nice restaurants. Franny and I have actually been to Higgin's before, but not often. Last time, we had the duck. ("Say we grant you a reservation. What would you order?" "Oh, I don't know. How about the duck?" "He cannot have zee duck." "You can't have zee duck." "He can have zee chicken." "You can have zee chicken." "Well, what about my date? I can't tell her what to order." "You can strongly suggest zee chicken." [Probably misquoted, but still one of my favorite movie scenes.])

I really need to get back to sleep. I don't know what my problem is, but I'm wide awake. Maybe some chamomile tea or something...

Aaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggghhhh!

So this pirate walks into a bar with a steering wheel sticking out of his pants. The bartender asks, "Hey pirate, what's with the steering wheel?" The pirate answers, "Argh! It's drivin' me nuts."

(Mad props to Sam, who told this joke so well at dinner that Franny lost a mouthful of corn on the cob. Also, apologies to Tutu, 'cuz you're not supposed to tell this kind of joke to your mother.)

Treasures from Tutu

The Mizz got a package from Tutu yesterday. (For those who might not know, tutu means grandmother in Hawaiian and is what my mother likes to go by. She isn't Hawaiian, but she fell in love with the name when we lived there 25 years ago and had to wait a long time before she got to use it.) This is what was in the box. As always, click a picture for a bigger version.


This is a something that my mother made for the Mizz. She has made a wonderful habit of making a special personalized stitchery for each of her grandkids. Mizz was the sixth of seven so far, and I'm guessing (and she's hoping) she'll have more to do in the future. (I fuzzed out his name. Anyone who needs to know it already does, or at least knows someone who does.)

These are pictures of me at about the Mizz's age. She thought it might be fun to have them around for comparison. The second one has a bunch of bubble wrap stuffed in the top to hold the glass in place since it's too short. I guess they couldn't cut glass very well in the 70's. Maybe they had poor vision, which would also explain my little baby leisure suit.

There was also a two foot tall coloring book. It was noted as being "from Grandpa's basement", but the note was in Tutu's handwriting. I don't have any idea how far back this book goes. It's yellowed, so it's been around a while, but it has a Toys-R-Us sticker on it, so I assume it wasn't mine.

Thanks for the treasures Tutu. The stitchery is already hanging in his room. Not sure where my pics will go, but I'm sure they'll find a home. I was exceptionally cute.

Wind Power is Big II: The Proof

Not very good proof, but proof nonetheless. As I've mentioned before, wind turbine parts are HUGE. While I was travelling up and down the Columbia Gorge this week, I saw several of them heading east and several empty trailers heading west. According to the people I was working with, they've seen hundreds of these things. So those folks are jaded, but I still think big machines are cool. Although I saw lots of these things, I was taking pictures while I was driving, so I necessarily didn't put much effort into aiming. It was pure point and shoot. I mainly got photos of parts of my van including the dead bugs on the windshield, a few pics of blurry trees and an off ramp that was maybe 100 feet in front of the truck I was trying to get. Oh, well. I did however manage to capture a couple pics that give an idea of the size involved. Unfortunately, due to angles and such, the perspective distorts things a bit.

This is a truck I passed that was carrying two of the turbine blades. These things are about 150 feet long. I can't imagine what kind of planning has to go into transporting these things, since I'm pretty sure that wouldn't make it through most intersections.

To put the blades into perspective, this is a normal truck from about the same perspective and you can see how much closer the cab is. A typical trailer is a maximum of 53 feet long, so imagine three of these things strung together, and not those stubby ones that are actually strung together. It would take four or five of those.

This is a picture of the blades from the side. It's the best I could do passing the truck at a combined 120 mph or so.

I'm guessing the wind turbine business will only be picking up. Oregon Gov. Ted Kulongoski is waiting to sign Senate Bill 838, which will require 25% of Oregon's power to be generated from green sources like wind and geothermal by 2025, and apparently our existing hydropower doesn't count. It has passed our State Senate and is likely to pass the house soon. This probably means rate hikes in the short term, but the way things are going, we'll probably break even or better eventually.

This waterfall is not related to wind power at all, but I caught it by accident and I like it. It's from what is called a hanging valley. It is a remnant of the Missoula floods that shaped the Gorge during the last ice age. It was a normal valley at some point until half of Montana drained through it all at once (a bunch of times) and ripped out the end of it.

This is just a nice picture of the Gorge. I stopped at a rest stop/view point close to Portland just for fun since I had never done so and I liked the view. It was a beautiful day.

Stupid Crow

I'm not sure I like wildlife anymore. The Mizz and I went out for a walk this morning. Nothing special really. But on the way home, we inadvertently walked through a section of sidewalk that a crow had already claimed. He didn't put up a sign or anything, but he flew down and attacked my head. Seriously, a screeching crow flew down and whacked my head with his wing. I'm not sure what he thought he was doing. It didn't hurt or anything, and despite my short stature, I think I still have enough of a size advantage to handle even a particularly vicious and nasty crow. Maybe there was a prime trash can or roadkill or maybe even a nest full of crowlings that he didn't feel like sharing. Who knows? The Mizz was no help whatsoever defending his daddy. He slept through the whole thing.

Incidentally, he's still asleep in the stroller and I'm blogging from the front porch. Wireless is fun.

Forgot a couple things

In my rambling on that last post, I forgot a couple things.

Last Friday, I got new contacts. Way better for sleeping in. Apparently the ones I had are no longer recommended for sleeping, but I've been doing just that for ages. Nice to know. Anyway, the new ones are great.

And Wednesday, I went to the dentist. Not as much fun. According to the hygienist, I'm doing a good job of brushing and flossing. And then came the dentist. Although I have managed to avoid doing further harm to my teeth, some of my older dental work is in bad shape and needs to be repaired. This will have to come in the form of several crowns. I have a couple already, so I know what's in store, but that doesn't make it much better. The other bonus is that my dental insurance will run out after about two, so they will probably be spread out a bit. That's okay by me. This is a new dentist, and he had an excellent little camera to show me exactly what he was talking about. The camera was great, but I don't think anyone wants to see his or her teeth in that much detail, much less someone with teeth like mine. What it mainly showed me is that my previous dentist either ignored some problems with my old filling or just didn't care about them. Good riddance. The only good thing about all this is that he was giving free whitening to new patients, and I'm sorry to say that although many of you have been polite enough to ignore it, I need that very much. That at least makes a tiny dent in the thousands of dollars of crowns I can look forward to.