Those of you who read this column on purpose might have noticed that my entries have become less and less frequent over the years -- from three times a month to once a month to, well, every once in a while. Folks, they're about to become even less frequent. This, unless the nice editors at the paper are generous enough to let me submit the occasional odd musing, will be my last appearance in Real Change. (No time to get sentimental about it; I have a word-count limit.)
In case you're wondering, I remain committed to car-free living. After six (plus) years of busing and walking and thinking outside the steel box, I can't even imagine going back. OK, sometimes I can imagine it. Like when I want to go visit my friend Sundee, who lives in unincorporated King County, and doing so requires: reserving the nearest Zipcar, which is a quarter of a mile from my home and frequently not available; schlepping Chicklet, Chicklet's 15-pound car seat, and our stuff to said Zipcar; and then, after returning the car at a predetermined time, schlepping everything back home again. I imagined it quite recently, when my family was celebrating my dad's 70th birthday at a restaurant on the beach, and everyone wanted to head back to his place for dessert. We would have come along, except that there weren't any buses from where we were to where we were going, and we didn't bring Chicklet's car seat.
I digress.
The occasional inconveniences pale in comparison to the joys of my bus-based life, many of which I have written about here over the years. The column I wrote three years ago, just days before my wedding to Bus Nerd, does a pretty good job of capturing them.
"Together, we have ridden the bus to black-tie benefits, and bars, and basketball games. We have ridden to almost every neighborhood in the city, as well as to distant and inconvenient suburbs. We have ridden to work and to play. We have ridden in cities around the country and the world. We have eavesdropped on innumerable conversations. We have made new friends. We have run to catch buses and walked when we missed them. We have felt the sun on our faces. We have felt many less pleasant sensations on our faces. We have told each other funny stories about our bus adventures. We have told each other funny stories during our bus adventures.
"Adam," or Bus Nerd, "is the only person who knows what I mean when I say, 'I got the mean lady on the 27 today,' and the only person who truly 'gets' why I ride. Yes, it's about reducing one's impact on the earth and advocating for change in the way we build cities and transport people.
"But you know what? It's also a heck of a lot of fun."
Happy busing to you all; I hope you'll keep in touch.