While re-reading yesterday’s Perfect Moment post earlier this morning, I realized that I forgot one of the things that should have been under consideration. Although it is not a story of commuters, it does involve the bus.
I was sitting on the bus on the way home. My book was engrossing enough that I wasn’t falling asleep. My nose was buried in the book and my ears were perked up to the threatening guy talking on his Smartphone. There were lots of people on the bus and there were a number of conversations going on. Stops were flowing by and announcements about exiting from certain doors were happening, but I wasn’t really aware.
Suddenly, for no particular reason, I glanced out the window and watched as we sailed through the intersection. It wouldn’t have even registered except for the fact that the signal was red. Not a little red, but very red. Surprisingly, instead of wondering about possible loss of life and danger, my mind turned to other things.
Had the bus driver mistimed the light? Had they been trying to get there before the yellow expired and just weren’t successful. I mean, a bus weighs a lot and once you are committed to crossing the intersection, a stop would be most violent?
Had the bus driver worried about making such a jarring stop and decided to go with it?
Had the bus driver totally not seen it?
Had the bus driver decided we were behind schedule enough?
Had the bus driver seen too many Fast and Furious movies?
As for possible danger, it never really crossed my mind. When I was done with the pondering of the bus driver’s state of mind, the song Bad Fun by the Cult suddenly came into my head. I started thinking of all the stupid things I did as a child/teen/adult/middle aged adult that were rather reckless. These include:
- drinking beer perched on a turret that led from washroom of Nell’s House (the University of Toronto Residence where my friend lived)
- riding down the hill between St. Raphael’s and Lancaster schools in a shopping cart
- walking the streets with Derrick as he drunkenly crashed into a row of bikes sending them domino spilling in front of the koban (Japanese police box)
- Getting drunk on New Years at the Bolsover Tavern with displaced Cardif…..(Cardifians? Cardifigans…wow, I am going to need some clarification on that one)
- playing soccer with disgruntled ESL teachers after work
- riding a bicycle in incredible traffic, and not really worrying about it
Amazing how some of these are created by poor judgement brought on by alcohol. None of them are extreme sports or legendary moments of bravado. Yet, when I get together to reminisce with friends, they certainly seem like it.
Like Ian Astbury sings in the song above…get your kicks at the razor’s edge