Break Down

It must be the heat.

CTA buses are breaking down everywhere. I was on not one, but TWO that broke down in ONE 25-minute commute home last week. It is quite an ordeal to chase down the next one, convince the driver you already paid the fare once, and find a new seat on the recovered bus. And, then the second bus repeats the first's breakdown, and the process starts all over.

But, seriously, they're everywhere. Go three blocks down Michigan Avenue, Lake Shore Drive or any other main thoroughfare, and you'll inevitably see one, pulled over, hazard lights flashing, and all passengers off the bus.

The telltale sign of a breakdown is the back flap open in the rear showing the mechanical innards to all passersby.

Maybe I'm too empathetic to these public transit monsters, but whenever I see one of the buses with its engine flap open, it makes me sad.

It feels like I am spying on a surgery and the doctor has stepped away from the table momentarily, and the patient, knocked out and with a gown stretched open, is on display without shame or modesty.

Or maybe I watch too much Grey's Anatomy?

Snow Right

While riding home in a cab last night, skirting past the beaches along Lake Michigan, this thought occurred to me.

Snow doesn't look quite right on sand.

It almost looks like God got distracted while in the middle of that whole weather thing and mixed up his elements. As if he was busy with other tasks, and just forgot where he was. Might've even left the room for a bit only to return with a confused look on his face, and no idea where to start again. Kindof like when I burn the macaroni.

I know, I know, he's omniscient and shouldn't have these problems, but let's give the guy a break.

Now, if only the sand here (in January) felt as warm as sand is clearly, certainly, heavenly-dictated to feel between your toes...

Right before the hypothermia kicks in.

Spiked

Construction on the Lake Shore on-ramp at Belmont. New "no turns except buses" signs. Diggers, pipes the size of my apartment and road workers milling about. CTA supervisors doing little supervising. Gravel on road, dust everywhere, noise like you can't believe.

All of this means that it now takes 40 minutes to go 4 blocks down Inner Lake Shore.

I should start spiking my coffee before boarding the bus.