seattle – Page 4 – Transit Transients and Other Stories

70th and Love and Marriage

Well, my 2nd ex just bought me dinner and drinks…….

In Ballard, stopping at Market Street, 3 or 4 people loaded immediately, as I was closing the door I heard a voice call, “Wait” A man, 70s, white beard, dressed in jeans, work boots, baseball cap, for some reason, I thought “Sailor” started to enter my bus, “sorry, I’m moving slow” your doing fine, “its my 70^th today” wow, Happy Birthday! “thank you, I made it” he said as he slipped his dollar in the till and I handed him his transfer. He stood by my chair, I asked, you gonna celebrate?

“Well, my 2^nd ex, just bought me dinner and drinks” Nice I said, cool of her, “yeah, we have always kept in touch, she was 2^nd out of 3….. 1^st one, I was too young, we were too young, my 2^nd, well, 15 years was enough” 3^rd? I said, “She died a couple years ago” sorry man, “its ok, this one was always ok, tonight was steak at my favorite bar, she bought me a bunch of shots, I’m a bit tipsy” you seem fine, I said, “about 7 or 8, I asked her if this meant she was staying tonight” I chuckled and looked at him, hmm, “yeah, she kissed me on the cheek, and said, no, sweetheart, I wanted to get you those shots so your hung over tomorrow, that’s my gift to you,

she paid the bill and left me there, she always seems to get the upper hand” …….. I had to laugh.

A buddy of mine since childhood married his childhood sweetheart and have been married since they were in their early 20s…. He would bring up times when he felt he knew he was married, Kids, 1^st purchase of a house, things like that seemed to be reminders to him, I didn’t know if he was keeping track of what they did, or these things made the marriage seem more real. In their 20^th year together he was confiding in me how things had changed… Yeah, love was still there, but sex wasn’t what it used to be, and on a Sunday morning after a session together, draperies were closed, lights were off and they were talking and laughing about how their bodies had changed, softer, more folds, patches of padding, Home, Kids, college funds, careers, friends, families, these kinds of subjects came up during sex, that morning their discussion led to how intertwined their lives were and marriage was not what they expected, but what they had hoped for, and talked about how sex seemed to become both a discussion of tasks as well as a physical connection. They were happy, While he was laying on his back and she sitting on his stomach, she taps his chest right on his breast plate, her finger beads a drop of sweat, she leans down and taps again with her ear to his chest, she brings her lips to his ear and says softly “if you ever leave me, I’ll stab you in the Heart…Do you understand, the Heart.”

While Stopped

a Lovely brunette in her mid twenties is turning as the seamstress pins the hem

I pull into a stop on Greenwood Ave, I have a view of a Bridal Gown store, a lovely Brunette in her mid-20s is turning as the seamstress pins the hem, her Mom is taking pictures with a camera, a friend takes pictures with her phone. On my left I’m passed by an electric bike with the cargo spot in front carrying a set of what I think are twins, toddler age, I begin to get ready to pull out and am passed by a small car with a husky hanging out the window, he barks at the lady riding the bike, she veer’s to the right but manages to avoid hitting a parked car. Across the street the Fire House doors begin to open, a siren turns on and the flock of pigeons lined on a power line take flight.

Sunrise I’m at a stop, facing Mt Rainier, the foot of the mountain is pink, then is dark blue at the summit, the mountain dominates the seen as the buildings, cars, people become unnoticeable, sheep clouds are red underneath, then cotton white at the top. I watch the blinking red lights of a plane as its on its way to Sea Tac, my window is open, and the air is fresh as it gusts in my window. The early Seattle city planners designed the road this way and this is why we call it Rainier Avenue

I’m headed down a hill and stopped just before a busy intersection downtown, it’s Game day, there is a Seahawk fan in full garb, hat, coat, shorts, shoes and socks in hawk colors throwing a football to other fans across intersections, he points at me, I shake my head no, and he throws the ball over my bus and to another person dressed in garb on the other side. The crowd laughs and he throws the ball over to another corner, as I wait for the light, the ball has been thrown 4 or 5 times to different people. There is a dog pulling at the leash wanting to get into the game, a street singer saws “Go Hawks” on her microphone, the crowd yells “Go Hawks.” There is an old gentleman at a bus stop bench sleeping.

I’m at a stop that is by the front door of a small chain restaurant, they have a line on Sundays that goes about a half a block, people are drinking Starbucks, couples are meeting other couples, a family of 5 is carrying presents as to celebrate a Birthday. Inside the restaurant the tables are full, the windows are slightly fogged. At the door the hostess is calling the next table. I pick up a couple that just finished eating and they ask me if I go near the zoo. A younger man wearing a hoodie and headphones pushes by without paying or caring that he knocked food out of their hand, walks towards the back, they look at him briefly, shake their heads then find a seat in front. He gets off later at a busy downtown stop and pushes through the crowd, another younger guy swings back at him and hits him on the shoulder, he ignores it and goes into a drug store.

The crosswalk is full of people dressed in various types of garb, going left, right, phones, briefcases, purses, wheel chairs, bags of food, clothes, dogs on leashes, hats, sunglasses, scarves set up multi moving patterns of color that hints of the stories they are telling.

Some Interactions on the Bus

Life should always be as happy as feeding birds

An older gentleman that I believe to be in his late 60s early 70s, definitely a hippy, hopped on to my bus and explained he was from out of town and has no idea how much it costs to use our bus. I said, “well, people in their 20s pay 2.75, people a bit more mature pay a dollar” Through his long beard his toothless smile chuckled and he said “ Im a bit past 20 but still immature” good for you sir, that will be a dollar and Ill give you a transfer for the next bus. Yea, I’m heading up to Shoreline and need to get on some giddy bus” giddy bus? I said…. “something like that, a buddy of mine has an art show at the Shoreline town hall I’m in town to see it. Very cool I said, I think you want the

E line, yea, that’s it. We were chatting as we headed down the road, Ill let you know when we get to that stop, great he said, I just got in from Spokane about an hour ago, I hitchhiked…. Really? That’s a long ride…. Yea, been 4 days, I picked up a ride to Republican, then over to Wenatchee, down to Arlington, then up here… sheesh that is a journey, yea, I like to get out at least once a year, hitch a ride and go for a bit…… you do that as a thing? I asked, oh yea, been doing it for years, my buddy said I should see this show, so this was a good reason for the ride…. You’re a good friend I said as we arrived at his transfer… I reached out and shook his hand, He struck me as a guy that’s had a lot of good conversations.

There has been what I believe is a Mother and Son that get on my bus in Ballard and ride into town, or from town to Ballard, her health has been on the decline and she moves a bit more slow each time and now has a hearing aid and wears dark glasses. I tilt the bus for her, she is careful with her cane as her son holds her arm, they sit close and chat to each other. He is very attentive, they seem very close. It reminds me of my mothers last days, as hard it is to watch a parent that is in their end of days, I think of my moms as some of the sweetest times I had with her.

She had Leukemia. The last few weeks were a fast decline, I lived near by and would go to her place each morning to check on her before work and after. One morning she was having a difficult time getting out of bed. Mom was a big woman helping her out wasn’t easy, As I got her to her feet, she passed out, It was all I had to keep her from falling, and because of her size and physical condition, getting her back on the bed was more than I could do, I held her up in a bear hug. I had my cell phone in my pocket and called 911 and explained the situation, and let them know her bladder just let lose, the dispatcher said they wouldn’t be long.

I called into work and let them know I wouldn’t be in, she started to come too and started to cry, I’m so embarrassed she said, Mom, don’t worry about that, they are on their way, we will get you checked in for a few days…….. As upsetting as that memory sounds, and the loss of some very nice Italian shoes, I find it to be a moment of intimacy that is unforgettable one of those moments of love and understanding that can only be achieved with a lifetime behind it.

I envy them as much as I cringe at what will come next for them.

Don is a middle-aged man that lives in one of Seattle’s halfway houses, Don has a great nature, positive, fun, he doesn’t have walls nor is he shy from sharing anything. He Physically seems to be in great shape, and I believe his situation is simply a limited mental capacity, which has never seemed to bother him.

His favorite coat is his mariner coat, he has gone to the expense of printing pictures of all his favorite mariner players on this coat, he shows it off with great pride, explains which picture is, when they played he shares a memory of them and there must be 30 or 40 pics on this coat…. It’s a good-looking jacket, I’m surprised no one has stolen his idea yet.

I see Don usually around the Denny area, lately he sells a local newspaper to people as they pass by, he loses interest as the pigeons flock to him, he loves his birds, they sit on his arms and shoulders as he feeds them, laughing, having a blast that these birds flock around him, sometimes must be a crowd of 30 or 50 birds around him as he puts bread crumbs and seeds on his shoulders, feet, hands , head he waves as people drive by.

Life should always be as happy as feeding birds.

Driving on Christmas and the Best Muffin in the World

I would have considered this day pretty uneventful; I had a few more people than I expected, they were all on their way somewhere, traffic was very light, the weather was clear. My Bus warmed up this morning, then the heater went out about halfway through my first run up to Shoreline Community College, I called it in, Transit Control would get me a new bus on my run back to Westwood Village.

Heading down Greenwood I stop by an assisted living building, it’s a very nice facility, I understand its pricey to live there and is excellent in its services and the condos are spacious and well appointed.

I have picked up this woman at the stop many times over the course of the last 2 years. She is over 80, always well dressed, even when dressed casually, her hair is perfect, makeup well done, fashionable and accessorized. She has always struck me as well accomplished; she communicates well and very direct. I’ve thought of her as rather Grand, though we have never had a conversation more than a general greeting.

Today she gets on the Bus carrying a large Tupperware container, “Oh Hello, Merry Christmas” she says Merry Christmas I said, she sits at the front, She’s in a Burgundy coat, black stockings, matching heels, wonderful scarf, Hair perfect. You look like your on your way to fun I said, “ Yes, she replied, Granddaughters first time hosting Christmas. “Wonderful” I said, Yes, and its my job to bring these muffins, everyone knows how to make them, but they have made it my job. “No one cooks better than Grandmas” I said. That’s so true, she said, This is my Grandmothers recipe, She taught me how to make them, and I make them every year, taught my daughter, then taught my granddaughter, “ I love family traditions like that” I said. The recipe has changed a bit since my grandma made them, we lived in Idaho, I grew up in a cabin, my grandparents didn’t have power, back then, grandfather built the Cabin, not very big, large fireplace, exposed timbers, wood stove and they got by with lanterns. It was a farm, they had some livestock but all of it was very modest, we made our own butter, Milk from the cow, eggs were fresh and the squash were from the garden. So much now is store bought, its all easier, but I think they have dropped a bit in taste.

“that’s Amazing” I said.

We pulled in near Woodland Park Zoo, she stood up and walked towards me opening the Tupperware, Here, take a few,

“ Oh Gosh I couldn’t” ( I have a policy of not taking food from people on the bus for obvious reasons of being too risky)

Of course you can, I want you to, please take some.

You, know, I have so much food in my bag, those look really good, she smiles and said……. Take ! I took one, and thanked her profusely, “ Merry Christmas Sir, your always so nice to me, I appreciate you. Merry Christmas Mam, it’s my pleasure.

She stepped off and I pulled away with the muffin stored in a napkin to my left.

It was a light day in Traffic, and I couldn’t help but to think of her growing up in a cabin, no power, snow, warmth of a fire, I imagined the cabins fireplace, river rock, a Mantel made out of timber. Her Grandmother in a calico dress and white apron with lace ( maybe I watch too much tv.) I drove through our city of cement, steel, glass, I drove my near million dollar bus through the streets with many people, and thought how her Christmas has changed.

No power, then radio, then TV, highways , Trak housing, Moon landing, Internet… the list is huge, Her experience then is so different from her Grand daughters experience of Christmas.

But they share a tradition, Muffins, Muffins that have a recipe of perhaps a hundred years, maybe more as I have to think her Grandmother learned to cook from her Mom, maybe Her Grandmother, so perhaps food now isn’t what it used to be, so much now is ready made, flour, butter, pasteurized milk, ingredients from all over the world are available now, few people grow their own food, much less cook from scratch of the level of churning their own butter, picking their own eggs.

Was fun to think about. A new bus was waiting for me at 1^st and Lander, a couple of customers quietly changed buses with me and we continued on, dropping someone occasionally. I pulled into Westwood with 1 person to drop off, Merry Christmas he said, I waved back and wished him the same.

I lifted the Muffin, perfect color, not a cupcake style, the old school type, that has the top. I thought again of how old this recipe might be, I took a bit and held it in my mouth.

I should have taken more.

Driving on Thanksgiving

Driving on Thanksgiving

This was the first major Holiday that I drove for Metro. I have been curious what it was like, other drivers have said they like driving the Holidays because its quiet, traffic is light and overall an easy day.

I started Route 21 at Westlake Village at about 9 am. There were no people to pick up, I continued on to my 4^th stop, I picked up a woman, dressed nicely, black dress, hat, make up, high heels, as she paid her fare she wished me a Happy Thanksgiving, made her way to about midpoint in the bus, then made herself comfortable. She was my only passenger all the way into downtown.

As we approached her stop, she walked up to me and said, you know, I almost called UBER, I chuckled at the comment and replied, “I’m glad you’re here, you gave my morning a reason.” I hope you’re not driving all day and get to spend some time somewhere she said, “I drive till 4, then done I smiled. Thanks for the ride, was very nice, Happy Thanksgiving” You too I said as she left.

I picked up 3 homeless people at her stop, and 1 more dived into the back as the doors were closing. Mostly, I have found the Homeless keep to themselves, today they went out of their way to wish myself and others a Happy Thanksgiving,

There are several places that were providing meals today downtown, I stopped near those and dropped people off, picked people up. I made my way north with just a handful of people, the gentleman that dived into the back was now stretched out on the back seat. I drove through the Freemont neighborhood; the roads were very quiet. I continued to the Woodland park zoo and stopped to drop off a couple with a baby, the guy in back looked up, seemed confused leaped out the back as the doors closed. I had no passengers to Shoreline Community College.

I chuckled a bit.

2^nd trip back intown was about the same, easy driving, easy friendly people.

3^rd trip back up North, I had 2 wheelchairs, both were people that I had before, 1 Just isn’t nice, I ignore his demeanor, and not try to chat with him, the other one, she likes to chat a bit much and I lose track where she is in the conversation. But what disturbs me is, she only wears a ill-fitting T shirt, very dirty, sweatpants, today she had socks, she rarely baths, but she is very nice.

I stopped in Greenwood, drop them both off where they transfer to another bus, I pick up a guy dressed in a painters jump suit, ( white plastic) he is wearing green wooly socks no shoes, long beard, and crying, He is walking like his feet hurt and I ask if he needs some medical attention….. He sobs in his hands and yells how it’s all BS and he never took that stuff; he approaches my till and pulls out wads of cash and tries to find something less than 20s to pay his fare…. I hand him a transfer and said, this is on me today. He goes back to his seat and leans his head back and wails, wails…… loud sobs, I call this in, I’m concerned he may hurt himself, I try to communicate with him but can’t seem to connect, I stop just passed Holman road, he runs out.

I sit a moment and gather my breath; the other passenger looks at me through the mirror and we both shake our heads.

As she leaves a few stops later, she just says, wow. Take care. You too, thank you.

My last trip was pretty slow, still not many people, the community kitchens had served their food, and the people from them with their left overs were sharing, making sure myself and others were offered Turkey, potatoes, pie, they were caring and communicating more than on other days.

I found it pleasurable.

Route 11

Route 11 starts in the Madison Park area. This is a wealthier neighborhood, Waterfront property in Seattle is plentiful but very pricey. Houses and yards are very well kept. This is a neighborhood where Interior Designers, Architects and Landscape Architects, Caterers, Craftsmen of all kinds have made their mark and therefor their living in. Sidewalks are always clean.

Route 11 is a loop route, meaning you go to one end, then come back without going onto another route. These routes are comparatively short but done for the reason of higher density. I particularly enjoy this route because of its path through several different types of neighborhoods.

I had been driving this route on Saturdays, which I understand is a “lighter day” to be driving. Because of Madison Parks high density parking is tough so even the well to do ride the bus, its easier. The route starts on 42^nd, Usually picking up grandparents and grandkids going into the city, they let the young one pay in cash as I welcome them onto the bus and hand them the transfers.

We drive through these stylish and well kept homes to Madison ave. Take a right and start up the hill, we pass Bistros, Coffee shops, Boutiques, high end grocery store, Fashion houses and Interior Design stores. As we go up the hill we start to pass condos and a golf course. A few miles up and we arrive at the entrance to the Arboretum, one of Seattle’s very large parks known for its amazing landscapes, historical trees and vegetation that stretches to Lake Washington, the Arboretum also hosts our oldest Japanese Garden, a place of unique beauty well known for its full moon tea celebrations with Koto music, large pond with schools of Koi and many turtles. Families and tourists often get off here, grab some coffee and walk to the garden.

We head up the hill past more condos and into the “central area” which historically had been one of Seattles Urban neighborhoods that in the last couple of decades because of our tech industry, has become quite gentile.

At the top of the Hill is Capitol Hill. Capital Hill is the center of our LGTB community. Every weekend of the summer there is some kind of community gathering, music, art festivals, food, parades of all types. Sidewalks and crosswalks are painted in rainbows, restaurants and bars, retail shops and services are mostly geared towards the young and hip.

This is a fun area for me, because here I will pick up all kinds and types of people, from the wealthy to the homeless. Tattoo’s, piercings, gender mixes, clothing styles, hair color, even the dogs have colored hair and extreme style. It’s a nice break from the daily commuters going to work who dress rather conservatively. A day in this area will demonstrate that there is all kinds of ways to enjoy being human.

From Broadway we head down the hill into the city, we cross the freeway pass our Historical Paramount Theater, Saturdays there are matinees of musicals, the evening will be music and comedians. Then we head into our retail district, Westlake Mall, Nordstrom’s, Macy’s, high end clothing, perfumes, jewelry. The sidewalks are full of people shopping, sightseeing and street performers. I open the doors and listen to all the bustle. There are singers with loudspeakers, guitar players, Chinese musicians, horn players, drummers, stand still performers in extravagant costumes, magicians, jugglers, it all happens here.

I nudge myself through traffic to 2^nd avenue and drop off locals and tourists who are on their way to Pike Place Market, a world class farmers market to pickup fresh food, flowers, Knick knacks and more restaurants

I take a left to finish the half of the loop and begin to head back, picking up the people going back home, or to the Arboretum, or Lake Washington.

I drive through our Convention Center where there is an event almost daily and most certainly on weekends. Busy, Busy, Busy. Drivers say they get dizzy from this route. Its not so much its circle as it is amazing variety of people and places.

Shared Stories

Seattle is a large city, people coming and going from all parts of the world, all stages in life, all of us have stories that begin, develop, continue then end. Bus stops are like frames from Zoetrope’s

To drive for Metro means that you have a certain understanding of the humor and tragedy of the people you see. There is a level of empathy that we share through it all. It might be because we are up close and see these people and talk to them, it might be something that Metro see’s in us and that’s why we are hired.

I have made numerous connections with other drivers, from the ones I was in training class, to the ones I see around the base, and the ones I work with loading Orca cards.

When we load Orca cards it’s a 4-hour shift with another person, and you get to know them pretty well, and in all human situations you connect with some stronger than others.

Often these connections are made because of our stories we share about driving, and we find each other to have a similar level of humor and empathy for the people we have encountered.

Some stories affect us deeply.

My friend Juda shared with me today.

“Was pretty much a normal day, I was picking up people, and you know how they are, you say “good morning” to everyone and only a few hear, or say it back, their busy doing what they do.

A middle aged Asian lady got on my bus, she was dressed professionally, clean, her body language was bent over, and a bit timid, then I noticed she had a very bad clefted lip, it went as far up into her sinus area, I said “good morning” to her as I looked her in the eye, I read something in her eyes that seemed she didn’t get recognized often, she said “good morning” back and went to a seat in the front, and put her head down immediately. I was taken by her body language, she seemed to hide, It made me think of the situation she must be in, kids don’t have filters and ask their parents why she looks like that, and lets be honest, not all adults are kind and their reactions of disgust must hit her hard. She must have had to deal with this her whole life. Why, I wondered, here in the US would someone have to have this situation… and other countries people are shunned….

She came up to me when we came to her stop, she thanked me for saying “good morning”

I looked her in the eye and said, your welcome, my eyes acknowledged her, we connected.

She has a problem she lives with everyday with no relief, she never gets away from it.

It helped me see the difference from a problem, and a situation. that I have no real problems, I have situations.

I changed that day, I think of her when issues come up and it helps put it in perspective, I share this with other drivers.

We have reasons, a purpose in life, I’m not sure what these things are, but sometimes seeing something and feeling something that connects us makes sense of things.”

I took in his story, asked if I could share this with you.

He said, “please do, it changed me”.

Her story is ongoing, and we witness others who’s problems are ongoing or develop.

On 3^rd and Madison a middleaged man first scanned his card with me sometime in July, I remember because he was particularly friendly and talkative and liked a womans dog that was shaking because of all the noise going on at the bus stop. after that, he was gone a few weeks then appeared again, but missing his right arm.

His short sleeve hid the length of what was left and he didn’t say hello back or say a word as I scanned his card.

Now during the second week of September, he has appeared again with an artificial arm. He didn’t scan his card this time nor did he interact with anyone, including the dog, who is still scared by all the noise at a bus stop.

Which brings me to Gus.

Gus is a lab mix who was rescued from a kill shelter in Texas.

Gus just met his forever home partner at the Sea Tac airport today and on his way to his new home by bus. Gus is over 12, black fur, grey muzzle, just a tad overweight and a bit arthritic. His front teeth are missing from chewing on a chain link fence. He has scars on his nose, legs and ears that are believed he received from being a bait dog.

Gus seems to know his life has taken a turn for the better and loves that people are saying hi to him. He loves his new life partner as she shares with everyone his story and how she met him for the first time at the airport and he hugged and cried when he met her. She is still flushed, his tail hasn’t stopped wagging, Gus and the people around him know that from today on, his life is going to be awesome.

One piece that is part of the story.

Route 40

You’re not alone, your dog goes with you. In the Jungle, there are dog parks, dog cafes, where people meet and exchange info or relax. Fast food is being redefined as healthy food and is being served up quickly, vegetables and fruit is passed out for free off food carts to walk by’s. Workers are dressed in Jeans and comfortable shoes, tee shirts and button downs. Facial hair, people who are trimmed well, and those that are not. It seems to be all about come as you are.

Route 40 might be one of the more interesting and diverse routes.

It travels from Northgate Mall, (1^st Suburban Mall in America) to Downtown Seattle.

I can’t talk about route 40 without mentioning Paul Allen.

Paul Allen might be best known for being a cofounder of Microsoft. Here in Seattle he is loved for keeping the Seahawks in town, saving them from moving to another city by an owner who was only interested in the profit. Paul made sure the Seahawks were Seattle’s team by being the perfect owner: Deep pockets and forward thinking enough where he truly believed the Seahawks home was in the hearts of the 12^th man.

A new stadium was built, state of the art, a practice facility was built, state of the art.

He enacted a business plan to attract players that included that they would be treated well. He as much as any of the players won our Superbowl and there by securing Seattle’s Sea Hawk worship.

Paul Allen didn’t stop there, he invested in South Lake Union, he saw an opportunity for growth and development for our high-tech industry made a deal with Amazon and buildings that would house people and offices were built. Amazon being what they are, were not interested in just business as usual, as much as they have changed retail, they are also changing the way business is done. When you go into what I call the Amazon Jungle, you walk about 20 years into the future of how we will do office work. Spaces there are less about cubicles and more about being able to move person to person. You’re not alone, your dog goes with you. In the Jungle, there are dog parks, dog cafes, where people meet and exchange info or relax. Fast food is being redefined as healthy food and is being served up quickly, vegetables and fruit is passed out for free off food carts to walk by’s. Workers are dressed in Jeans and comfortable shoes, tee shirts and button downs. Facial hair, people who are trimmed well, and those that are not. It seems to be all about come as you are.

Starting at Northgate Mall I head south and west over to North Seattle Community College where I drop a few students and teachers, pick up commuters and continue west. I cross Aurora, stop, pick up a few more commuters and some street people, head towards Ballard. First is our Crown Hill district Dicks Drive Inn will be on my left, ( another Seattle Landmark, the burgers are not to be missed) a couple of grocery stores, restaurants, ma and pa businesses mixed with apartments and condos.

Taking a right onto 85^th, I’m driving in a neighborhood with a mixture of homes from different era’s. Arts and Crafts, Modern, International, NW contemporary, mostly a higher income neighborhood. Here I’m picking up older commuters or students.

As I head South on 24^th towards Ballard, I pick up groups of people and start to see the dogs who come with their mates to work for Amazon. I like to be introduced to these dogs and claim the dog’s way of paying fare is to say hi to me…. Some lick my hand, some like to be petted. Gigi a toy poodle kisses me on my cheek. A young man with a Borzoi has no interest in me or anyone else and enters my bus as his partner pays human fare. A squiggly mutt is happy to see everyone, and this is the best day enters and wines as people reach down to say hi to him, his mom says good morning as she giggles at her dog.

In Ballard on Market street a few more commuters then I head south towards downtown Freemont, I pick up more people, a few leave who work at google, or facebook, or leave to enjoy shopping, or a walk by the Ballard Locks.

I go over the Freemont Bridge and hope that it doesn’t stop traffic, raise and let a ship pass. I head south past lake Union, past marinas, restaurants, high end Condos with fantastic views of Lake Union. (Lake Unions Gasworks park is where Seattle has its 4^th of July fireworks). When I reach South Lake Union my bus is often at standing room capacity. I start dropping people off in the Amazon Jungle at dog parks and cafes, office buildings and workspaces. Seattle’s diversity is on display here, its progressive acceptance of all that is human, people from all parts of the world, gays, lesbians, transgenders, black, white, brown, all cultures and back grounds come here to do business. Most are younger than 40, they have their computers, tablets and smart phones. They are dressed casually and behave professionally and are personable. Their Dogs wag tails and are part of this parade.

I tell people that to come here is to see what business would be like 20 or 30 years from now. I hope the world truly does follow this path, and I believe Paul Allen is as proud of this accomplishment as any of his.

I drive up to 3^rd ave and drive south, by then its just a few people, a couple of commuters and street folk, they go where they need to go, then the bus is mine while I lay over at one our bases.

Route 5/21

The Geography of the greater Seattle area is responsible for both our traffic and the beauty of the area

The Geography of the greater Seattle area is responsible for both our traffic and the beauty of the area. On the West side of Seattle is Puget Sound, the East, lake Washington, the two are tied together by lake Union, the 3 bodies of water started out as separate, but the monetary value that could be realized by attaching the three was apparent, so the Ballard locks were constructed in 1916, which now allows ships and boats to move from Lake Washington, through Lake Union then out to the Puget Sound. 3 bridges cross the North/South bound traffic, those are the I-5 bridge, the Freemont Bridge, and the Ballard Bridge. The Last two bridges raise to allow taller boats to go through.

Mountain ranges are the Olympics to the West, the Cascades to the East. Mt Rainier is in view except on the cloudiest of days, Mt Baker can be seen from many areas of Seattle.

Seattle’s traffic mostly travels north and south, to go east west is done on either of two floating bridges, north is the 520 bridge, the I-90 bridge is on the south side of Lake Washington.

Seattle struggled to make these roads happen, most of our 100 plus years our roads have been under construction and development…… as much as we may cuss at our world class traffic, we also praise our views, I drive daily, the views never get old.

I drive a bunch of different routes during my week, entering now my 2^nd year at Metro, I have a few favorites, route 5/21 is my first route, and currently my favorite. I like it for many reasons, one, is that is got the right balance of crazies and commuters, Students and Elderly, family and singles. You can see a lot of different people during a “run” which goes from Shoreline Community College then goes into Downtown Seattle and becomes the 21, then out to West Seattle/Burien.

Often, I start in Westwood Village, a shopping center in Burien. It usually starts with a few elderly women who work at a Hospital nearby, and a homeless person or two, who like this route because of its length, they can catch a good sleep for an hour and a half and be warm, or dry, or at least out of the weather.

I turn a couple of corners and head North up 35^th Ave, which drives through a long neighborhood of small Arts and Crafts homes, sidewalks that hold grass and leafy trees. I drop the Hospital workers off at the crest of the hill, the view of the city is in the right side of my windshield. Puget sound is in the foreground, our Port of Seattle there through our front door. Some mornings the cranes are busy unloading and loading ships. A Totem Pole that was once stolen in broad daylight, restored by the criminal, then returned…… (Seattle has all kinds of odd stories).

I go on down the hill, the street is now called Avalon, losing my view to tall condo buildings on both sides, the street gets a bit dark for most of the year. The Buildings grab as much view as they can in all directions, I head down to the West Seattle bridge and pick up a few people at a Park and Ride under the bridge, as I continue onto the entry for the bridge and head back up into the light, I get to the crest of the bridge, on my left is a view of Puget Sound to Canada, on my right is Mt Rainier. The West Seattle Bridge is tall, you’re up there high, you feel your looking down at the city, this is where Puget Sound feeds the Duwamish River as it travels south towards Mt Rainier. Mornings, when the light is just right, you can see the last remains of a few stars, and the glimmer of the snow on the mountain, you took to your left and the windows on the buildings are bright on the back side and are black on the Sound side.

You see ships heading in and out to sea, ferries taking commuters to work, planes heading in and out of Sea Tac, helicopters watching traffic, cars finding places in line. I slow down a bit and take it all in before I pull off the bridge, head up 1^st ave where commercial area services the Port of Seattle, past Starbucks headquarters, Showbox Sodo, ( many of Seattle’s musical legends and the worlds, have played at the showbox ) towards the Stadiums, take a right, drop off a couple people at Occidental and Edgar Martinez way, Edgar Martinez was a Mariner won the hearts of Seattleites enough to have a street named after him, a statue of Ken Griffy Jr. poses by the front door of our Ball Park. The size of the Stadiums is stunning, the retractable roof hangs over train tracks that go from Canada, then across the US. The stadium is amazing up close, far away and from the inside. Truly something to see.

Then I head to fourth, take a left, to the backside of Seahawk Stadium then up 3^rd through downtown. You can travel anytime through downtown and take in a part of the parade, going past Yesler there is a few missions, shelters, state housing and parks where street people stay, you drop off legal types at the county and federal buildings, you then head up towards the finance district, then through the retail area. Through Bell town, another great neighborhood of condos, apts, restaurants nightclubs and retail, I take a right on Bell street, then head on to Aurora past lake union facing condos that watch Sea Planes, sailboats, houseboats. To the left is the Olympic Mountains that rise over the sound. Then over to Freemont, Freemont is largely an apartment neighborhood with some beautiful old Arts and Crafts homes, was once the Art District of Seattle and called itself the Center of the Universe…… and, as much fun as they have there with their quirky restaurants and bars, shops, street art, statues, parades, festivals and Sunday market, they have a claim on that motto.

I travel up the hill past Freemont, past our Zoo, I often drop families, grandparents, grandchildren, couples and some workers there. I head North through Greenwood, which is where there are a lot of Bicyclists, bicyclists are big in Seattle and now with electric motor capacity, it’s more difficult to gauge their speed as they ride from behind and want to pass when you stop. Many are commuters or Moms and Dads with kids sitting in the storage bay of the bike. I continue north through Broadview, which is almost all neighborhood and a few convenience stores, then end at Shoreline Community College. Which is surrounded by groves of pines.

Usually when I arrive, I’m a couple minutes behind schedule, I drop off some students, a couple of homeless that I might have to wake. This route has a lot of stops a lot to see and a lot of traffic, I get about a 20 min layover to catch my breath, relax a bit before I head back.

The Blend

You can be anonymous here on the streets. People enter and leave the streets through Doors that open and close on buildings, cars and buses, reflections on windows trace their paths then blend to the others. Telephones to their ears people are stretched between two places. Sounds of engines, sirens, voices, smells of weed, popping corn, meat being cooked, garlic, coffee, surround the colors of blurring vehicles, advertising, traffic lights, so much can distract and detach others from you, your presence no matter how you look, smell, or sound becomes subtle here, your usual impact, then retraction or compassion from others dissipates and you are accepted as part of the background. This is where you can be part of the parade, normal, unseen unaffected.

I watch people, over time I see some enter the streets on what might be their first week or so, then begin to become street people, they change, its unavoidable.

A young woman maybe 20 something walks by with her sleeping bag, pillow rolled and wrapped with a bungee, bags and large purse is hanging from her arms. She say’s “pardon me” as she steps through the crowd. She is attractive with her clear skin, long brown hair, her eyes are kind, I see one red mark on her forearm, and I hope the best for her.

I’m approached by a man who has been on the streets for what looks like decades, I have seen him before, long hair matted into filth and litter ridden dreadlocks, splotchy beard, long black overcoat over a torn and dirty t shirt. He wears black sweatpants under his jeans that are at his ankles, tennis shoes, one blue, one somewhat white, no socks. He mumbles incoherently but I keep an eye lock with him, I look for someone in there and I hope I can see him. He mumbles, I wonder if he still has the ability to speak English, then he tells me “you fucking smell, your gross”. “I look down at my belly and I say, yea, I have let myself go a bit” “You need to get a job” he tells me then stumbles off.

The following week I see the girl walk up the street asking for money, she has her sleeping bag over her shoulder, no pillow no other bags, just her purse. More marks on her arm and she stumbles on the building side of the crowd.

A young black man I have been watching, he attracted my attention because he wears a scarf in all weather, he is large, over 6’2” and closing in on 350lbs. He has an unkept afro, blue jean shorts, light jacket and red tee shirt, as he walks by I can see he has tumors that look like intestines hanging from his neck. His legs and arms have medical patches and there are red blotches on his skin. He walks by, his eyes focused on something far ahead. Several weeks go by and I am driving in the morning, I arrive at 3^rd and Pike. He is in a wheelchair now, I lower the ramp and bring him on, his smell is overwhelming, it’s not just body odor, his skin is rotting. He wears the same scarf where the tumors now hang down farther, his coat is gone and his shirt is filthy and torn. He has a video game in his hands and he’s bright, friendly, kid like with a huge smile as he says “damn, almost had it” ( to no one in particular) I strap in his chair and see his legs now are bloated, red, painful looking, and the smell is taking over, I hold my breath and worry about the other passengers, a woman sitting behind him discretely opens her purse and quietly sprays him with a very nice perfume. I continue up Pike Street and see the girl leaning her bare butt against a building, pants on the ground, she finishes her pee and pulls wipes out of her bag and cleans herself. Her arms are pocked with red blotches. She doesn’t have her sleeping bag, her hair is a mess and people walking by pretend not to notice.

On the streets you can an escape for for a while, it’s a place where we can lose ourselves amongst the colors, the sounds, the smells, our reflections on windows blend with others.