Just Ride, Man

Deke's eerie selfie on a blissful break. I'm with you wherever you operate,
along the lonely miles of backbreaking routes we roll every day,
"sacrificing daily for the common good."

Deke's Note: It's been a while, my friends. In the past few weeks, I've undergone many unseen changes. You see me, but you might not notice what has happened. This blog recently reached 300,000 hits after six years we have shared together. Worldwide. It's bigger than I ever imagined when I began this simple writing exercise in the life of a simple transit operator. We celebrate this milestone together what has emanated from this abused keyboard. I truly appreciate every time you have read this blog. Sometimes it has been mundane, others perhaps somewhat interesting, amusing or noteworthy. Either way, it's me communicating with you on some level. We're connected, the two of us, writer and reader. It's all I ever dreamed of, and now we are as one. Thank you.

My wife wants me to come to bed... early on my Friday night. I struggle with this, the pull of domestic bliss versus the desire to write to my faithful readers what I have just accomplished in the week of a transit operator. There is much to do as a family man when work no longer beckons. However, the life of a blogger tends to stretch me between the two. Hence, my rest during days off is shortened by my desire to please both. 

Life tends to happen quickly, leaving some chores undone and others neglected. Despair not; you are always gentle on my mind. However, the life of this transit blogger seems to happen in bits and spurts. Life happens, family comes first and happily mingles with the evolving life of this humble bus operator. I cherish these moments now more than I do writing. I'm growing older quickly, requiring me to choose between things I love and those which have grown habitual. When they compete, I choose that which feels best at the moment. Therefore, I have neglected you while tending to those closest to my heart. Hopefully you'll forgive my frequent absences with the knowledge that you remain important, regardless. Here's my latest... and hopefully it's still relevant.

End of another long shift serving our fellow citizens.

Yes, I'm a bus operator. Rather than it being a simple occupation, it has grown into a lifestyle. Everything I do seems to revolve around the job. Does our management feel this way? Highly doubtful. They can, as I once did as a corporate slave, leave their jobs at the end of a day and with it, have the workday slip away into some conscious back door left open. The house cat will slip out along with the resultant trash. As a transit operator, some loudmouth puss may escape, but the day's work tends to stick around like the smell of a drunk's fart as he exits the front door of your bus.

Lately as I drive my weekly routes, I'm reminded of mere snippets of what happens and it's but a blur upon my conscience. From management's nagging to come see them over some ignorant motorist's false complaint to arguments with passengers that might end up as "come see me" notes from liars and miscreants who call in and whine about how I was "rude" to them for insisting they abide by basic human decency while on my bus. The music in my soul erases the negatives, and remembers most the kindness of those with whom I have personally connected. It all balances out in this Libra's balanced life.

Rudeness slides off my uniform collar like nothing more than the failed attempts of an errant blood-sucking mosquito. I simply... don't... give... a fuck. Leave me alone and let me drive, man. Sit down and shut up; I got this. Drive a bus. Give people a ride, fare be damned. Leave nobody standing, welcome them to my peaceful and forgiving ride. As long as I don't leave any scratches other than tree scars on the bus, I'm good. The rest of it? I don't give a damn.

Just Drive, man. It's the title of my book, and it works. Anything else is useless fluff. I get you there safely. Just say "Thanks, man" as you exit, and we're good. I did what I was hired to do: I delivered you where you wanted to be, usually on time. What more is there? A bit later than expected? Sorry, but if you had looked up from your phone, you might have seen all the obstacles I avoided along the way. See that kid I avoided killing when he rode his bike directly in front of my bus while we  were rolling at 35mph? Yeah, I didn't kill him and simultaneously didn't spill you out of your seat. You didn't even notice. His parents will see him walking into their home safe and sound because I was scanning 180-230 degrees around my bus and predicted his dart into traffic off the sidewalk directly into my path. You're very welcome.

I'm a father as well you see, and the thought of losing one of my own makes me even more vigilant in my scanning. The mere thought of accidentally killing someone's child while giving you a ride is a nightmare I hope never to have.

See where I'm going with this? I'm driving a bus, on duty, at least 10 hours a day... from light to dusk to tomorrow's dawn. Whatever time of day it is, I'm watchful, wary and prepared. I want everyone in, and around, my bus... safe. Some errant motorist might take the life of your precious loved one, but I'll be damned if they will die at my hands. I'm vigilant every moment I'm in service. I love my fellow Portlanders, and I hope it shows in how I roll. My driving is not only attentive to those around it, but  smooth and courteous to those within it.

You're welcome. I love you too. Just be safe when you exit my bus. Your loved ones depend upon you to return to them safe and sound. I've done my job... it is then time to do yours. Look up from that phone in your hand and pay attention. Once you have left my bus, your safety is in your own hands. Don't disappoint those who adore you. Just get there... safely. Please.

Good night and God bless.

May all your dreams include this blissful scene.
Peace and love, my beloved readers.