Tag Archives: transportation

Mild MBTA Misbehaviors: Overdue Apology #3 – Sorry I Weirded You Out

20 Wednesday Jul 2016

Posted by in Boston Moments, Public Transit

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Skin is so soft and smooth and warm. Sometimes I can’t help but kiss it. Which isn’t a problem, not really. Though perhaps . . . inappropriate if that skin is my own? My soft, smooth, warm bicep, presented to me so alluringly as I hang, drunk with exhaustion or maybe simply distracted, by one arm from the too-high stainless steel grip bar on the Green Line, Red Line, Orange Line.

Perhaps you do this, too? I can’t be the only smooth customer holding myself aloft by an act of might, resting my mouth against my arm, too-early in the morning/too-late at night.

Boston transportation planning

Anyhow, fellow passengers, my apologies. Sorry if I weirded you out.

Mild MBTA Misbehaviors: Overdue Apology #2

04 Wednesday May 2016

Posted by in Boston Moments, Public Transit

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IMG_6636

Dear Stranger Whose Business Suit-clad Rear I . . . Bumped:

Remember me? I’m the ‘little black girl’ who ‘smacked your butt’ on the Red Line headed towards Alewife. I swear it was an accident.

We must have been crossing the salt and pepper bridge because I remember the train car being well lit. I recall the echo of train wheels rolling up and over and across, Charles River glinting below. It wasn’t a packed car, but it also wasn’t empty, so probably other passengers witnessed my transgression.

Business Suit Dude: you had leaned over to fuss with the bag at your feet when the train swayed and my arm . . . swayed. There was contact: your tush, my hand. I remember thinking a muzzy uh-oh! when I realized I was too late to resist the motion.

You shot up, squeaking in surprise. Or maybe it was a gasp. (I assure you, the sound you produced maybe wasn’t was very manly.) However it’s best described, your response contained an implicit ‘oh!’, which, if you were a 80’s-raised black woman like myself, may have been followed with an outraged ‘you didn’t just do that!’ But you were a white dude, probably late 30s, early 40s, and, judging by your shocked expression, this was not an interaction you’d ever envisioned.

You gaped. I shrugged one shoulder and, as an afterthought, added a disarming, half-sorry smile.

My bad. I probably should have been less amused?

In any event, dear Business Suit, you have my 78% sincere apology. I hope you don’t mind that I’ve re-told this story many dozens of times. Don’t worry, you’re always the victim.

Statues in American Indian museum

‘We send reproach for your regrettable behavior.’

Whole Hearted Examples of Local Love and Lore

04 Monday Mar 2013

Posted by in Bloggin Noggin, Community

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Twitter-screen-shotRecently, I joined Twitter.

It was a deeply-considered decision. After all, an important aspect of whole hearted connectedness, to which I prescribe, is thoughtful engagement with that which you already own. The web platforms where I spend my time and finite energy daily are myriad and, over the years, Twitter had seemed to me a shallow offering. A hummingbird’s game -flitting here and there for sweets, rarely making the kind of contact that leaves an impression. Then, suddenly, I discovered the website’s potential usefulness at work. So I held my nose, and I jumped.

I’ve been merrily sharing, watching the number of my so-named followers creep up. However, it’s strange to put things out there and rarely hear back. Part of me feels, why bother if only ten people have access to the tidbits of news, events, ideas that excite me? But then clicking that “tweet” button is easy. So I do it anyway and chalk it up to “learning” the “culture” of Twitter for the sake of professional and personal growth. For now.

Here are two items I recently “tweeted” that I feel could use a bit more air before they disappear into the drawer forever.

1.) An intern at Boston’s popular and accomplished Food Project blogs about his world-widening experience on the T.

2.) Creating art for the New York Subway with illustrator Sophie Blackall:

http://blip.tv/etsy/handmade-portraits-sophie-blackall-5930123

A Tale of Two Pedestrian Crossings

04 Tuesday Dec 2012

Posted by in Boston Moments

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I have a funny relationship with pedestrian crossing signals: sometimes I don’t want to push the button. Yes, I want to cross the street. No, I don’t want to be struck by a vehicle.

For much of my life, crossing safely with the light hasn’t been an option. See a busy street, dart across. Or: see an empty street, meander while the traffic is far, far away. Steady red hand for both. The flashing walk or “white man” (as my cousin calls it), nary to be found. Boston in particular boasts many twenty-second count-downs at four/five-lane, highway-speed boulevards. (Thanks, Boston.)

Then I moved to JP and met, exhibit A: my favorite walk signal.

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It may not look like much, but this crossing sign at the Arborway not only responds with the most satisfying speed, it also has a comfortable space in the middle to wait if need be.

<tangent>I once heard a father tell his two young children “well, now you’ve screwed yourselves!” when they rushed the light and got stranded. He wins the award for the most inappropriate and darkly amusing thing said to kids trapped between lanes of speeding vehicles.</end tangent>

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I readily admit that I’ve taken friends to visit this cross walk towards the green goodness of Arnold Arbs. It’s that great.

Exhibit B: the walk signal with which I have a more complicated relationship. Press the button and you usually have to wait. And then, embarrassingly, traffic on a very busy, very fast road is brought to a halt so that you, in all your importance, can saunter across for something like forty seconds. You could execute some fantastic cartwheels during that time.

crossing to the pond

I was very excited when the city installed this cross walk last year, because getting from one side to the other at Jamaica Pond was the pits. Now, though, when all those cars stop and wait for me, I am filled with guilt. Maybe it’s complexity of that portion of the Jamaicaway, or the fact that I’m often the only one crossing and, with my bike, this act takes probably five seconds. Not that I think the city should change it . . .

new crossing button

Two signals on the same road and a different relationship with each!