 |
| Portland, Oregon is where I live and operate as a bus driver. Wherever we are, we share the same issues. This blog addresses what we feel and know as transit operators in an unforgiving world. |
After six-and-one-half years, is there any doubt of my love for you fellow operators? Have I not endured enough public (and secret managerial) scorn to describe how we struggle countless hours in unforgiving and ill-fitting operator seats to provide safe rides to millions of transit passengers worldwide? Haven't our collective managements striven for a decade to minimize our vitality in order to prepare the populace for automated transit? Must we constantly endure the knife-thrusts of passengers and management alike, or can we rise UP as one and echo my razor-sharp literary bursts of self-defense as we fight such unwarranted indignity?
It matters not where you operate. Life as a Bus Operator is hard, but remains a noble and honorary profession. We save lives every day as we navigate the unforgiving routes of transit. Your life at work may be fraught with horrifically-rude encounters, but your bus operator welcomes you aboard with a smile and perhaps a kind word or two. Our jobs are often misunderstood by the public, along with the personalities we add to our rides. All we ask is that you respect the most common code of humanity: be respectful and courteous to not only the operator but all those with whom you share this Beast of metal and glass. It's simple, and by doing so you can be assured of safe passage to whatever destination awaits you.
My blog has reached locales very distant to the relatively-peaceful shores of the Willamette River where we live. Operators and passengers alike from places like Chicago, Jacksonville, Dallas, Newport, Los Angeles, Edinburgh and Sydney all deal with what occurs anywhere else. Good people want to pay an inexpensive fare to roll to their homes or workplaces without fear or the hassle associated with affording their own mode of transportation. We provide our fellow townspeople and neighbors with that service, and most of us do so with the goal of providing such safely, with an accompanying smile. Perhaps if you ride with us on a daily basis, we'll add a few words of camaraderie and kindness that accompanies a relationship that arises from repetitive interaction.
When you board a city bus, you do so with the realization that you are entrusting your safety to a trained professional. We expect you to pay fare (even though such is under attack from a fringe of society that demands it become 'FREE'), but if you do not, you're riding at the mercy of the surprise Fare Inspector sting. They will fine you for riding without proper fare, and that's just too damn bad. Nothing good is ever free, and I hope our 'Bored of Directors' recognizes this age-old truth as it debates the Free Fare argument.
I was raised to acknowledge my own faults and to take responsibility for them. Fix your own mistakes; don't expect others to take the blame for them.
NOTE: A bus shelter is not the same as a bus stop. That shelter you're sitting within is normally unlit and impossible to see within from a bus operator's perspective. Our management's money-hungry advertisements often block our views with ads depicting humans within, while hiding what could be actual passengers avoiding nature's elements. We're looking at the pole, that blue thing with words that actually tell you that's where the bus you're awaiting will actually stop to discharge or welcome passengers. We don't care that you're tweeting a reply to some dumbass who is fucking your sister's ex-boyfriend as we roll past that bus stop. All we know is there is nobody visible at the stop. Often, we'll see you hunched over that phone as we pass by. My first thought is, "Oh well... maybe you'll be ready for the next bus." Don't expect us to make exceptions for your lack of attention. Be seen and ready, or be left behind. Oh yeah, and don't forget to have your fare ready as you board, not as you climb aboard. We don't have time or patience for you to dig in your pockets for the fare you "just had the last time I rode."
I can't help but think this is the philosophy of bus operators in any locale. To have my publicist's posts of my blogs denied because "it's not locally-oriented" is purely ridiculous. I write for us ALL, no matter where we live and operate. From what I've seen online, my blog is one of precious few which speaks truth to OUR reality as transit operators. In my seventh year as a transit blogger, I've heard from enough of you to know it happens the same all over this blue marble we call home. I've rolled transit in many locales worldwide, and life is the same there as it is here in Portland. And that commonality we share, my friends, is what keeps these words pouring forth.
You may not always agree with the words I offer here, but that's okay. I'm but one voice among thousands who do the real work of transit. I persevere in hopes that these humble posts find resonance with the few who understand our common reality. Even when you disagree with my opinions, I hope you find some truth in what I relate. It's not for me that I sit upon this keyboard two or three times a week. It's for us ALL, and in doing so I work very hard to describe what it's like for this one bus operator, "from the driver side" of a city bus.
To those FaceBook Group Administrators/Moderators of groups relating to transit, I hope they actually read what I offer before they deny my publicist's request to include this blog in their domain. Denying these posts is like saying "We only cater to the inane social media constants we're bombarded with on a daily basis; the words of a Portland transit blogger don't resonate with us." Sorry folks, but you're wrong. Deke N. Blue writes for whoever dons the uniform and braves the insulting waves of a public that constantly berates us as we strive to provide a safe and inexpensive ride."
Peace be with you all, and my prayers are that you all arrive safely at whatever destination awaits; both operators and passengers.
Comments
Post a Comment