Hop on the Bus
Gus
What if for just one week you left your car in your garage, (if it’s not acting as a storage unit), gave up the freeway and intercity hassle of navigation and road rage, took a break from the obscene price of gas, and rode the bus?
This is what I intend to do next week after arriving back in Omaha, Nebraska, following a five month stay in the UK and Ireland where I rode the bus, train, and ferry wherever and whenever I could. Since my antennae are currently attuned to public transit, I want to try it out at home. Unfortunately, the Omaha Streetcar project is two years behind schedule as a mode of transportation, but HEY - we have the Metro Area Transit bus system running up and down Dodge Street. So, before uncovering and retrieving my beloved Toyota Celica from the storage lot and paying four dollars a gallon for gas, I’m going to ride the bus. For a week to ten days. Tops.
My son is a Millennial, and through him I am aware of the fact that there is a whole segment of that generation who grew up through their teens completely uninterested in driving. They didn’t want the parking hassle or the expense, the terror of road rage, or Mad Max Thunderdome-sized pickup trucks blocking their view of the road. They are highly intuitive and protective of their bodies and finances. My theory is that the Millennials who currently own and drive a vehicle were pushed into it by their parents, who refused to accept or wrap their brains around the fact that their child didn’t want to drive a car. My son takes Uber or the bus or walks wherever he goes in Omaha. I’m going to follow him around.
I have never taken an Uber or a Lyft because 1) I shun apps in general and using my phone as a credit card conjures up trust issues and plain common sense, and 2) I am what you would call a nervous automobile passenger. When traveling on a bus or train, there is extra square footage, which equals less impact in the event of a wreck, and no driver or captain is turning their head toward me while talking. Eyes on the road, people.
When you think it further through, you then realize that carrying heavy items like groceries or a bag of dirt (soil - sorry, Steve) will quickly become an issue for you when using mass transit. That is where Uber comes in. Or a friend who owes you a favor. Or your mother. In Omaha, no one ever needs to pay for a ride coming or going to the airport. It is unheard of. Friends don’t let friends take a cab. A friend or family member always retrieves or delivers you to Eppley Airfield. They may become hopelessly lost in the maze of construction in the Bermuda Triangle of a parking garage and therefore not be on the terminal exit ramp when you are dragging your tired ass off of the plane. But we transport our own.
Another thing you might realize when you think it another further step through - especially if you are a woman - is that your car is really just a big purse. I have a huge grocery bag fetish, and they all live and breed together in my hatchback. In fact, I have amassed and accumulated yet more bags from the UK and Ireland. Lidl (pronounced “liddle”), a German discount supermarket, is a new find for me. It’s a lot like Aldi, with random stuff for sale down the middle lane of the store. Like the brown wool pullover sweater I purchased for five bucks at the Lidl in Sligo last November. And of course, I have the Lidl bag. Ditto for Waitrose in England. Maybe my winter trips to the UK are really an unconscious grocery store tour, and I bring back the bags as souvenirs.
I will keep you posted on how I do with the Omaha transit system next week. Until then…
Love & Hugs,
My Son's Favorite Mode of Transport
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