Gas Bag

I'm so broke, the only joy I have these days is from taking pleasure in others' misery. Like, for instance, this story: This morning on the M2, the following happened:

1. The driver stopped at the M2 LIMITED bus stop - there is also an M2 slow-ass regular bus stop on the block, but we were on the limited bus, so ...

2. Every one gets on, most get a seat, bus pulls away and stops at the light.

3. Some lady (term used loosely) who just had a big bowl full of entitlement with a side of jackass walks up to the bus, pounds on the door and yells: "You're at the fucking bus stop. Open the damn door."

**ALERT** The bus is NO LONGER at the stop at this point.**ALERT**

**ALSO** Would YOU open the door for someone who spoke to you that way?**ALSO**

**AND**It's snowing outside and you get more flies with honey, blah, blah.**AND**

4. The driver points out to the lady in what I think are very nice terms that (1) he is not, in fact, at the bus stop anymore; (2) it is within his purview to decide whether or not to open the door for someone when he is not at a bus stop: (3) that, given that power, he declines her offer to open the fucking door, but wishes her a very nice day.

5. The lady proceeds to threaten him with a negative report, at which the entire bus starts laughing.

Public transportation sometimes makes me very happy.

Later that same day

I've been thinking a lot about race lately -- largely because it's black history month and everybody I work with/know expects some deep revelation from their black friend (that's me) about Martin Luther King. GIve me a break.

But also, this month has been great because I learned about Ego Trip, and I want some more, now! I watched the whole 3 hours of their Vh-1 special tonight and there was a point at which I laughed out loud -- so hard, I had to run to the potty. High-larious. Please watch it. Please email me, and I'll send you their book -- I have 8 copies, becuase that's how funny (because it was true) it was. Power to the people - j.

February 26, 2005

Good Lord. It's only been 13 days since my last post, and you wouldn't believe what has happened! Nothing! Thirteen days, and nothing. Aside from the usual yelling at people hanging out on my block (why don't they just go home, I wonder?), haggling at the grocery store (who knew it was possible to negotiate a discount on rawhides for Lou?), and sleeping as much as possible, there has been no excitement, nothing interesting to say, and no meaningful moments to share. So sad.

Since I last wrote, Veronica and her friend Andrew came for a surprise visit (necessitating 2 hours of cleaning to little effect before they presented themselves on my doorstep) to see The Gates. I have to say, they are lovely. Check out this site to see them in all their glory: http://www.christojeanneclaude.net/tg.html. Lou has peed on them twice.

And, this site to see how clever folks debunk the "art" and make the "money":
http://www.boston.com/news/local/massachusetts/articles/2005/02/25/tiny_takeoff_on_christo_proves_gateway_to_glory/

Why didn't I think of that.

FYI -- On the chicken bone front, it's almost broken me, the counting. I'm only able to estimate anymore. So, here goes -- in the last 13 days, we have passed by roughly 250 bones (almost 10 per walk (at 2 walks per day) per day). Of those, I esimate the eat rate at about 5%, which means that:

Chicken Bones:
- Seen: 250
- Eaten: 13
- Spit out: 13
Total net worth if chicken bones were dollars, measured from January 3, 2005: 432.00

The only other interesting thing I have to say is about my trip to the laundromat today, where I wondered what the lone white man in the joint was thinking/feeling during the telecast of the Tavis Smiley Black Folks Fest on C-Span, wherein Louis Farrakahn, Rev. Al Sharpton, Cornel West (he is crazy, if you didn't know) and other academic, business, and politial leaders were basically beating up on The Man (which I took to mean The White Man) in a panel discussion. He seemed interested in the proceedings on the TV, but he could have just been pretending. I kind of felt sorry for him until I remembered all the times I've felt uncomfortable in places that I had a right to be. Interesting.

Time to walk the Lou. Later - j.