Transit

You know you're riding public transit when:

1) A man at the MAX station asks you for money, you decline politely, and he walks away mumbling, "It's because I'm black!"

2) Everyone at your Delta Park/Vanport bus stop/transfer quickly lights a smoke once they see the bus driver take a potty break.

And, 3) The person (lady, I think) across from you on the C-Tran bus through downtown Vancouver is drinking a 2-liter bottle of orange soda - for breakfast.

My immediate instinct is to judge and scoff, but really, I'm refreshed by the occasional public transit. It truly is nice to be reminded that not everyone sips their organic hot apple cider while driving their Subaru and listening to NPR or KINK on their way to a decent paying job. While this is my generally preferred mode of transit, I appreciate the variability and color that public transit sheds light on.

Plus, I got more knitting done during a single commute than I have in all of the last week.

Working at the VA, most of the patients I see are very, very different from myself. But they're not an entirely heterogenous group. Most are male, most are in the 24-40 or 60-80 demographic. All are veterans (obviously). Most smoke. Many drink. Most have mental health issues. Most are in very poor health. Almost all are white. Several are not well-educated, well-paid, nor well-groomed. Many have no real support system to speak of. Many are divorced; once, twice, or even multiple times. A few are homeless.

So yeah, their right-wing-blue-collar background contrasts sharply with my leftist-educated-upper-middle-class heritage, but it's still not as diverse a group as urban public commuters. On a regular basis, I love working closely with the veteran population. And I'll save bus rides for when I need a reminder of the rainbow of colors that the people of Portland comprise.