Intimations

Un-survival.

We are packed into this airplane like a bunch of sardines, me being a small sardine squashed against the window by a rather large one. The Stewardess is standing up in the front making sure that the folks sitting in the exit rows are able to assist in the event of an emergency, or else put their useless bones back amoungst the rest of us sardines; she mentions that the seats double as flotation devices and then she reaches up to point out where the oxygen masks will fall if the cabin looses pressure.

She then says something that I find very strange, she says–"Please secure your own oxygen mask before assisting the passenger next to you."

Why do they say this? Are they so concerned that the altruism of the passengers will take over and everyone will run pell-mell helping each other but not getting any air for themselves until they pass out and die? What great urge of selfless heroism do the airlines see in the race of air travelors that must be quelled?

I have a revulsion to this kind of thinking, though I imagine that survival as a whole happens best with this logic. But, I want to NOT survive! I want to assist all the passengers with their masks as we plummet earthward, God Dammit! Because look at where we are!

This is what that robot up at the front should say: "Everyone, secure 3 other masks before worrying about your own. we are 30,000 ft. in the air, it will be a miracle if any of us survives a crash–at least you will die a nobel hero's death and we'll all see your face glowing, uncovered, as you gasp your way into oblivion...or eternity."

New Endings

Today is the beginning of the end. I have just learned that the longer you stay in one place the more people you have to say good by to. Last night I said good by to many dear graduates of North Hills Preparatory– many wonderful students who are soon moving to the far ends of the nation to enter the world of college. My dear friend David is shipping off to the Marines at the end of the month, my friend and "mentee," Andrew, is moving to California for college, and my dearest friends Shaun and Kyndra left this morning for Nevada where they will live for at least 2 years. There are others too, others that will leave soon to go far away. And I am here.

It is strange to think that living in one place my entire life has given me a rather forlorn view. It is as if I am a dock. I watch each boat as it is untied from its post and drifts out into the open water. I am the unwavering posts and planks driven deep into the ground below the surface. I guess I am happy to be the dock; after all it is much more convenient to leave from the dock than the shallow beach. I am glad to oblige. I am happy because so many beautiful boats have rested here with me.

I want to some how convey how happy I feel in the midst of the sorrow of good bye and the loneliness of an empty dock, but I think that it has already been said better than I can manage. One of my ninth graders wrote the following passage in response to a wonderful freshmen year in high school. I think she has captured the kind of feelings that I am experiencing as I say good bye to my friends and stand in the water as summer rises around me.

This almost-last day honestly made me want to cry for no reason and every reason. I wanted to cry for all the happiness of the past year, for every daily interaction with friends and teachers that would become memory. I wanted to cry for feelings unspoken and silent communications; for all the students leaving and for those who would arrive. I wanted to cry and hug and grasp tightly the childhood so deftly escaping us. I wanted to cry.

Each year I think, This one won't be anything like the last. And it wasn't, was it? Last year I told myself that I would make an effort to savor every moment and breathe deeply, because what I breathe is precious Life. I kept the promise to myself, and myself was rewarded with so much light and exuberance that there became nothing to do but allow the luminous tides of emotion to envelop me. Laughter, sorrow, fear- all have ebbed and flowed through our days, and as we near the end of a fateful passage, these currents give way to new radiance; hidden bodies pulsing through lucent skin. We have Discovered, though what has been Found may not be clear. Concerns of this ambiguity are soon cast aside, for something more important has been revealed: Realization. We know, though we do not, and march forward; consciousness settling lightly and steadfastly as falling leaves in a closing book. We commence, and are aware: we are illuminated.

So I'll let a fifteen year old say it because she says it true and she says it fair; somehow she is able to capture the beauty of good things coming to an end.

And thanks, all of you that are leaving, for blessing me with so much light and illumination. I will see you after.

Palestine Occupied

A friend led me to this  Photo Essay of the occupied territories of Palestine. It seems to be an excellent window into their dark world. There are several parts to the essay; you should watch them all.

Conclusion to a Train Blog

I have waited entirely too long, but I wont let that keep me from properly wrapping up this civic experiment.

I believe it to be a success. This was an endeavor well worth my time and effort. In fact, it was one of the highlights of my summer.

It was the enjoyment. The fun of it. In the end the value was not economic. The environmental impact of one guy riding the train is not something to make a big deal about. It was the pleasure of watching the grass and trees ride by my window as I listened to my favorite tune, or as I wrote my little thoughts in my little black book. The mere activity of doing something for the sake of soaking up an experience–the walking and the riding and the listening and watching and writing. It was a pleasant work–a soft stretching of the mind and body.

Deep truth? Earth shattering realizations? Sure. Lots of them. But there was a poetic happening to the experiment that gave me a distinct confidence in my ability to see. Maybe it was the passivity of sitting on a train. I was allowed to sit back and be.

Day 4

Though it is mid June in Texas, I have been wearing a hat and sweatshirt every morning. I recommend such attire for bus and train riders. My reasons at this time are the excessive rain our state has been blessed with. I am not sure exactly why, but an umbrella isn't an option for me. It's silly, one would have come in handy a few times this week, but I would rather let the rain be–do it's thing and I'll take minimal shelter by way of hat and sweatshirt. I feel raw and connected. An umbrella would make me feel like an old lady.
And, a hat is just as handy in the scorching sun as in rain.

Rule # 6: Bring a hat. It's handy in all weathered situations.

Day 3

Rule #5: The bus smells like piss and sweat.

Unfortunately that is all I have learned today.

Day 2 Part 2 - Later that afternoon.

These are the lonely moments. You sit on the train with a thousand other people you don’t know and who are probably just as lonely as you. So you call your friend. But all you get is her recorded voice and you don’t even have the heart to leave a message. You just sit in your seat and watch the rain wash down the windows. Little rivers of life giving water flow down on the other side of the glass–they can’t reach you where you sit. Instead, the water greens the trees and leaves on the outside while you sit on the inside like a pile of dried bones. It’s your birthday–the day when everyone remembers that wonderful moment that brought you into their lives; a day when you thank God for all the years of life that you’ve made it through relatively unscathed. But really it’s only another rainy train ride on another Tuesday. What’s to celebrate?

Rule #4: Train rides alone on rainy afternoons can be very lonely (listening to melancholy music doesn’t help).

Day 2

My punctuality has improved. Today I arrived precisely in time for the train, which dropped me off with just enough time to walk directly onto the bus. Our bus ride was met with a little rain (merely a refreshing shower and no real inconvenience). I arrived at the building of the days employment with 45 minutes to spare; thus:

Rule #2: Be prepared for large amounts of free time.

I believe that this reality of public transport must be one of the chief reasons for the habit of so many Europeans (as they use public transport so much more that we do) and our less money laden–that is that waiting for trains and buses, or arriving at one’s destination 45 min early directly promotes smokeing. However, it certainly does not give one time to smoke a pipe, or a cigar, but only cigarettes. And that’s that.

On the healthier side, it also allows for reading and contemplation. These two employments, being among my favorites, also go well with smoking. I fear that I must include this double sided reality in my understanding of my current project.

(*note: my morning reading of Pride and Prejudice has directly influenced the language of this entry.)

I must include a 3rd rule in today’s findings

Rule #3: opportunity for community and conversations.

On the bus ride I sat near 2 African-American gentlemen. One was a TCU student on his way to class, the other was an older, and hard working man. We were thrown into brotherhood when we looked out the wide windows of the bus at the ensuing rain. We eyed each other with rueful smiles and comments about preparing to get wet. The student and I joined in even deeper comradeship as we left the bus and hiked side by side through the summer drizzle, comforting each other with statements about how it could be so much worse.

You, my gracious reader, must be inspired by how much I have learned between the hours of 6:46 and 8:14 merely by the use of a different kind of travel.

(for a look at a different side of the Metroplex, check out these videos taken from my train window:

Download Train.one.3gp

Download Train.two.3gp

Day 1 - Letting Go

When the train schedule says a specific time, it means it. I missed my train this morning by 2 min and was forced to wait 20 min for the next.

Rule #1: The train/bus decides when you sit, stand, wait, or get going.

“Letting Go.”
After my class this afternoon, I rushed to the bus stop only to wait 15 minutes (luckily it had only just stopped raining). I kept squinting my eyes and peering down the street to see if the bus was coming–thus engaging in a human instinctual behavior that is a direct disavowal of reality–it didn’t make the damn thing move any faster. I started to worry that the bus would come late making me miss the train forcing me stand at the train station for 20 min and possibly end up at my next destination too late. Oh, the anxiety! I started to think that this whole “saving the environment one train ride at a time” was a stupid idea–it was going to give me high blood pressure. The train came regardless of my impatience and guess what? I got to the train station right on time.

Relinquishing control is hard for any guy who has almost always had life by the steering wheel. I’m looking forward to snuggling into new enjoyments as I learn to let go.

Pre-experiment calculations

This is the pre-experiment calculations and preparations for my civic experiment, which consisted of a daily train and bus ride from Irving to Texas Christian University in Ft. Worth.

(the following numbers are a comparison of factors between private and public transportation)

total distance = 39.8 mi

Private transport costs:
Time = about 50 mins
Gas =  2.65 gallons/day
Total Cost = $7.95/day - $39.8/week - $2,069/year

Public transport costs: 
Time = 1 hour
Gas (to and from train station) = $3.00
Tolls = $2.30
Train ticket = $3.00
Bus = $2.50
*Total cost = $10.80/day - $54/week - $2808/year

*note: this price is higher than actuality. Train tickets can be used when transferring directly to the bus depending on your driver, thus cutting the price by $2.50/day.

Motivations for experimentation:
- Environmental issues, i.e. "Carbon footprint." What do I do in my daily life that is helping to prevent or    curb global warming?
- My car doesn't have working air conditioning.
- Trains are cool.
- Traffic is SO annoying!
- I wanted something interesting to write about that related to my immediate surroundings, my "place" if 
you will.