On the bus one not-so-fine morning, riding near the back, noxious fumes were noticeable after only a few blocks. It wasn’t the city-typical stink of urine, shit, sweat, tobacco, arm pits, and carry-out food. It was carbon monoxide — engine fumes, leaking into the passenger seating area. Not as healthy as a granola bar.
Very briefly, I considered walking to the front of the bus and telling the driver, but what would good citizenship accomplish? Either he’d ignore me and keep driving, or he’d pull the bus to the curb to investigate, and the bus would come out of service, and I and everyone aboard would be late for work or miss our connections downtown.So I said nothing, which is the story of my life. I simply switched to a sideways seat at the front, so’s I could have my morning nap on the bus without wondering whether I’d wake up.With best intentions, though, I wrote the bus number — 8033 — on my hand, to remind me to email Metro once I got to work, let them know the bus is pouring pollution inside instead of outside. And once I got to work I forgot all about it, until washing the 8033 off in the shower the next morning.
On my ride home, a 50-something Asian woman was dancing and jumping around on the bus, like an unattended 5-year-old. Being my disgusting self, I’d assessed her as vaguely pretty a few seconds before assessing her as crazy, and she was crazy.She paced and danced between the front of the bus and the back, rarely sitting, mostly dancing, and to be clear, there was nothing sexy or suggestive about either her or her dance. There was barely even any dance; it was more like she was in water being whammed by heavy waves, and further whammed by the shakes and brakes of riding a bus.She grabbed a rail to steady herself, and several times threw a big smile at whoever was nearby. After some minutes of this, she accidental-jitterbugged back to the back of the bus, and took a seat diagonally ahead of mine.Seated, she bounced her head around like she was listening to music, but she had no electronics. It was only the music of her mind.Maybe she sensed that I was staring at her. Slowly, theatrically, she turned around, found my eyes, and gave me the big smile she’d given to others — and her teeth were worse than mine. They pointed left and right at random, and some tilted outbound. Worst set of teeth I’ve maybe ever seen.I smiled back at her through my mask, and she smiled even bigger, and I laughed and she laughed at my laughing, and I laughed at hers, and then it got boring so I looked out the window. A few blocks later she was dancing in the aisle of the bus again. Then she hoisted herself higher, and stood with one foot on one seat, another on another, holding on to the ceiling rails and swaying to the music only she could hear.”Come on now,” said the driver, but the lady didn’t get down and he didn’t care enough to do anything about it.
By the standards of insanity, she was not a danger to herself or others, but I wondered, what’s this woman’s story? I wonder that about lots of people, especially the crazies, but the answers could come only from a long conversation, and I ain’t doing that. Hearing that woman’s story, whatever it was, would’ve taken more conversation than there’s in me for the rest of my life.And could she even talk, I wondered? When she shimmied back toward the back of the bus I said, “Nice shimmy,” to see what she’d say.”Nice shimmy,” she said back to me. Yeah, there’s a riddle that’ll remain unsolved.We were almost at my house, so I dinged the bell and stepped off. Call me Freud, but my diagnosis is, she be bonkers. She needs a mental evaluation, some care and probably some meds, and she’ll never get any of that because this is America. If she’s lucky, she’ll be left alone, and if she’s very, very unlucky, someone will call the cops.
You wouldn’t think a bum would be a heavy knitter, but there’s one guy I see on the crosslake bus once in a while, 40-something, messed-up face, clearly homeless, who carries yarn and knitting needles in his backpack. As the bus rolls across the bridge, he knits one, purls one.”It’s gonna be socks,” he told me when I hadn’t asked, and yanked at his pants leg to show off the socks he was wearing. Not fancy, no stripes, but I’ve heard that the homeless treasure a good pair of socks, and he’d knitted his from nothingness.
Once in a while I need to add a disclaimer, that most of the people on the bus are relatively sane. Even me, I’m relatively sane. We’re all mentally questionable, amIright?
The ones who get your attention, pop out from the crowd and I write about ’em, are the especially crazy crazies, but they’re only perhaps one in 15 riders on the bus.Still, that’s enough that a ride without anyone who’s nuts, usually several, is rare.
Waiting for me on the bus seat one morning, was a tiny Jesus tract. “Oh sweet Lord Jesus Christ son of God, have mercy on me a sinner,” it said, and that’s all it said.No pictures. Just one sheet of half-size paper, with nothing on the other side, like life itself.
There was one on every seat in the bus, handwritten and photocopied, so I guess it’s a zine. I sat on mine but grabbed one off the empty next seat, and stuffed it in my pocket to type it up and laugh about it later.Within the next mile or so inbound, the bus became mid-level crowded, and as people stepped onto the bus, sat down and looked at the literature someone had left, several of them commented on how marvelous the little flyers were.Sweet Jesus, indeed.
Yesterday afternoon, waiting downtown at the world’s skeeviest bus stop, I saw her again — She Be Bonkers, that Asian bum lady from a week or so earlier.She was walking and dancing along the sidewalk, an elbow interlocked with a younger, skinny, barely black man. He was kinda stumblewalking, having trouble with the small lumps and minor earthquake cracks in the sidewalk, and she was giving him stability as if she had some to spare, which she did not.Cute couple, though, and it was a small relief knowing she was still alive. As they walked tentatively past, I almost said something. Almost. It was gonna be, “Hey, you danced on my bus a few days ago,” or just “Nice shimmy” again. But as I weighed and measured what to say to a dancing crazy lady and her boyfriend half her age, he stepped on a tiny booze bottle — the kind no bigger than your thumb — and it rolled under his shoe, costing him his minimal balance.Real quick, though, She Be Bonkers grabbed his hand, so she had him by both hand and elbow, and he got his feet back under him. Then they drifted down Third Avenue, toward I wondered what.
News you need,
whether you know it or not• Oklahoma’s top prosecutor doesn’t want to execute a likely innocent man, but a court is forcing him to do it anyway • BuzzFeed News to close Despite its clickbaity name, clickbaity content, and well-earned clickbaity reputation, experts tell me that the news side of BuzzFeed did good work sometimes, and will be missed.As usual, I’m not so sure about the experts.
• Google to pay Canadian businessman for destructive search result From the headline, I was expecting an idiotic complaint and an even more idiotic verdict. Surprisingly, though, this ruling seems. Google should be forced to pay big damages, and maybe it’ll motivate them to be less evil.• Supreme Court’s abortion pill decision is temporarily not batshit crazy • Most transit agencies are floundering for funding, as passenger levels haven’t come close to recovering from COVID. This agency in Massachusetts is at an all-time high in ridership, because it’s free.
• Alps lost more glacier ice in 2022 than ever before • Global warming is great for lyme disease-carrying ticks • Climate change thaws world’s northernmost research station • ‘Devastating’ melt of Greenland, Antarctic ice sheets found • Early signs of climate change date back to the industrial revolution
• ‘Cop City’ activist’s autopsy reveals lies, and more than 50 bullet wounds • People held in isolation at Rikers awarded $53 million in compensation from NYC • Deputy has a habit of giving last rides to missing persons • Cop quits after raping child • 60 lbs of meth lost during Riverside County Sheriff’s Dept. undercover operation
• Florida just expanded “Don’t Say Gay” to all grades • Gender-affirming healthcare is now much more difficult, nigh impossible, to access in Missouri, even for adults • Bill to abolish police oversight boards passed by Tennessee House • Republican Party is making it harder for college students to vote • Judicial record undermines Clarence Thomas defense in luxury gifts scandal • Pillowman is ordered to follow through with $5 million payment to expert who debunked his false election data • DeSantis signs bill making death sentences easier for juries • Transgender lawmaker silenced by Montana House speaker • Republican commentator Anna Perez claims she likes to say “f*ggot” to test for true patriots or RINOs • Anheuser-Busch facilities face threats after Bud Light backlash • Florida legislators push bills aimed at making it more difficult to film cops • Michigan Republicans fight effort to repeal ban on unmarried cohabitation • Republican leader, who voted to expel “Tennessee Three,” resigns following report of workplace harassment
Mystery links
There’s no knowing where you’re going
• Click • Click • Click •
• Click • Click •
♫♬ It don’t mean a thing ♫
if it don’t have that swing• Bella Ciao — Chumbawamba • Hero of the War — Scott Walker • Jupiter, Bringer of Jollity – Gustav Holst • Some Velvet Morning — Lee Hazelwood & Nancy Sinatra • Suite Judy Blue Eyes — Crosby Stills & Nash
Eventually, everyone
leaves the building• Pierre Lacotte • Colin “Coke” McCord • Robert Trotman • Lasse Wellander
4/22/2023 Cranky Old Fart is annoyed and complains and very occasionally offers a
kindness, along with anything off the internet that’s made me smile or
snarl. All opinions fresh from my ass. Top illustration by Jeff Meyer. Click any image to enlarge. Comments & conversations invited.
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