My Life in 12-Point Font - October 4, 2001

October 4, 2001

I bet you thought the title of this entry was some metaphorical reference to the terrorist attacks on Sept. 11, or perhaps some metaphysical musings on the nature of family, or something like that, right? Well, you were wrong. I want to talk about my daily commute.

Lately I've been taking the bus to work. Because the bus schedules here in our fair city are shitty, this means that I have to get up at 5:30 in the morning so that I can catch the 546 at 6:50 AM, so that I can catch the 291 at 7:30 AM. The last 291 leaves the Park & Ride at 8:00 AM, and I like to leave myself some margin of error.

Now, if you know me at all -- and some of you might -- you know that I hate getting up in the morning. Hate it. With a flaming passion. If left to my own devices, I would snuggle into the comforter and the nice warm flannel sheets until around 10:00 or so, then stagger out and eat my cereal and surf the Web for a little bit, finally making it to work sometime around 11. If left to my own devices.

But see, we have traffic with a capital T (I guess that would be Traffic, then) here in Seattle. I recently switched to working in a new building, which is about five miles further from home than my old building was. The first week I worked in the new building, I drove the car, like I usually do. Except I discovered that the additional five miles of distance translated into about an extra half hour of sitting in the car. So on average, I was sitting in my car in stop and go traffic for about two hours every day. This was driving me crazy. Ever since the car thief managed to bust the stereo, we haven't had a radio in the car (I figure, why buy a new one when a car thief is just going to steal or break it anyway?), so I have two choices. I can either stare at traffic, or I can try to read a magazine and drive at the same time. I'm ashamed to say that I've opted for the latter on more than one occasion. Once or twice I've managed to completely finish Entertainment Magazine on the way home from work.

So, I've been taking the bus. Except today I slept in, so I missed the bus, and took the car instead. On the way home, I found myself stuck in stop and go traffic yet again, but this time I happened to have the digital camera with me, so I amused myself by sticking it out the windows and snapping pictures. What better way to spend my time than to illuminate all of you about the details of my afternoon commute?

We begin our journey at around the point when traffic slowed to a halt. I judge how bad traffic is by where the slowdown happens. If it doesn't happen until at least the 90-whateverth exit, that's pretty good. Most days it's backed up to the 103rd exit. If it's backed up to the 405 interchange or further, well, that's pretty hideous. Days like that, you might as well pull off the highway, get yourself something to eat, find a paperback book, and entertain yourself until traffic clears up a few hours later.

In the Pacific Northwest, even the highways are surrounded by lush green foliage. 'struth.

This is what I looked at for pretty much the entire drive home. These Vanpool vans are actually even worse than SUVs. They're big, wide, and have tinted glass in the back. You might as well be driving behind a brick wall. I have a theory that the larger the vehicle in front of you, the more wear and tear you put on your brakes. There's no way to anticipate when traffic will stop when a big lumbering monster like this is in front of you, so you can't just decelerate, you have to put the brakes on all the top. Very annoying. I do approve of the Vanpool program, I just wish I didn't have to get stuck behind them all the time.

When you're at a full stop in traffic, you have time to set up money shots like this. Oh, the beauty of the majestic Pacific Northwest rainforest, oh how lovely the sun looks, yada yada. I forgot my sunglasses today, so I was less enamored with the majestic beauty of the sunlight than I might otherwise have been.

Who says it rains all the time in Seattle? I could use a little more rain, frankly. Can you say "glare", boys and girls? I knew you could.

The native fauna of the metro Seattle area. Look upon it, ye mighty, and despair.

When you're at a full stop in traffic, you have time to slap Grateful Dead stickers on the median posts, for later passersby who are also stopped in traffic to photograph. You wouldn't believe how much weird shit is stuck to these things. Once there was a whole series of stickers in sort of a Burma-Shave motif. I was still trying to figure out whether they were supposed to be haiku or not, by the time traffic moved on.

Look at how the bus is passing everyone else in the carpool lane. That's the bus I usually take. I was tempted to stop the car in the middle of the highway, get out, and run after the bus, screaming, "Let me in! Let me in!" It's not like it would have made much of a difference in traffic.

Ah, the bridge, the glorious bridge. Usually by the time traffic makes it to the bridge, it's cleared out a little, as you can see here. It's sort of ironic, really, because the view from the bridge is the best view of the entire trip home, but usually I'm going too fast by the time I get to it to really be able to enjoy it. The sight of Mt. Rainier looming over the foggy horizon in the early morning is unbelievable. Just unbelievable. I like to watch the other passengers on the bus when we cross the bridge in the mornings. Most of them will put down their newspapers or magazines for a minute to check out Mt. Rainier. You can't not look at it. Unfortunately, you can't see Rainier on the evening commute, because there's trees in the way, but Lake Washington is pretty scenic all by itself.

Hmm, maybe I should have been in the right lane when I was taking these pictures. Those are really great shots of the right lane of the 520 bridge. I bet you always wondered what they looked like, huh? ...or maybe not.

Oops. Hey, look at that, Keith must have vacuumed the car!

That bizarre-looking structure off to the right is Husky Stadium. I like it because it looks interesting, but on general principle I wish it weren't there at all, because I hate all sports stadiums. Especially the ones in my neighborhood that screw up traffic every weekend.

This is one of those things I never really get over about Seattle. After spending four years in the urban jungle of Chicago, I am always impressed to see forest that has been left to more or less do its own thing.

Ha! Those poor fools in the oncoming lanes are just beginning their daily nightmare! And I'm almost home! Suckers!

That's my bus stop. I wish I were getting off there today. I'd be happily reading my book and waiting for the next bus to come, rather than calculating when best to switch to the other lane so as to avoid the traffic entering the highway from the onramp that's just around the corner and trying not to get too pissed off at the SUV that has been tailgating me ever since halfway across the bridge.

Today you could actually see the mountains off in the distance. They're obscured by clouds, rain, or haze most of the time. (It looks like I'm going down a fairly steep hill here, but actually I just wasn't pointing the camera straight. Ansel Adams I ain't.)

Construction. That sign is there to inform me that my regular exit, the one that takes me nearly straight home, is closed. It has been closed for weeks. It will probably be closed for many weeks to come. Every time I see this sign, rage overwhelms me and I want to run it down with my car. This is another reason why it's probably a good thing that I've been taking the bus lately.

Now the fun part. In about a block I'm going to need to make a left turn. You can see the problem already, I trust? But surely the nice, kind, and courteous Seattle drivers will leave a space open and will not block the intersection, right?

...wrong.

Incidentally, a couple of the people driving those cars that were totally blocking the intersection saw me take a picture of them, and looked really, really embarrassed. I smiled coldly, enjoying their pain and suffering. Actually, I should probably just be glad none of them was a Type A personality who is prone to jumping out of his car and beating up on people who take candid photographs of his car engaged in a traffic violation. And could I mix up my pronouns any more? Moving along.

The last turn before my street. I call these things "traffic circles", but Keith refuses, on the grounds that a "traffic circle" is the kind of thing you find in some European cities, or Washington D.C., and is designed to help traffic move faster. These things, on the other hand, are just a bloody-minded attempt by the local government to slow traffic down. Personally I think they lead to more accidents than if there were just stop signs, but nobody asked my opinion.

And that's my daily commute. Next time, I'm totally taking the bus.

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Jan@12pointfont.com

	We begin our journey at around the point when traffic slowed to a halt. I judge how bad traffic is by where the slowdown happens. If it doesn't happen until at least the 90-whateverth exit, that's pretty good. Most days it's backed up to the 103rd exit. If it's backed up to the 405 interchange or further, well, that's pretty hideous. Days like that, you might as well pull off the highway, get yourself something to eat, find a paperback book, and entertain yourself until traffic clears up a few hours later.
In the Pacific Northwest, even the highways are surrounded by lush green foliage. 'struth.
	This is what I looked at for pretty much the entire drive home. These Vanpool vans are actually even worse than SUVs. They're big, wide, and have tinted glass in the back. You might as well be driving behind a brick wall. I have a theory that the larger the vehicle in front of you, the more wear and tear you put on your brakes. There's no way to anticipate when traffic will stop when a big lumbering monster like this is in front of you, so you can't just decelerate, you have to put the brakes on all the top. Very annoying. I do approve of the Vanpool program, I just wish I didn't have to get stuck behind them all the time.
When you're at a full stop in traffic, you have time to set up money shots like this. Oh, the beauty of the majestic Pacific Northwest rainforest, oh how lovely the sun looks, yada yada. I forgot my sunglasses today, so I was less enamored with the majestic beauty of the sunlight than I might otherwise have been.
	Who says it rains all the time in Seattle? I could use a little more rain, frankly. Can you say "glare", boys and girls? I knew you could.
The native fauna of the metro Seattle area. Look upon it, ye mighty, and despair.
	When you're at a full stop in traffic, you have time to slap Grateful Dead stickers on the median posts, for later passersby who are also stopped in traffic to photograph. You wouldn't believe how much weird shit is stuck to these things. Once there was a whole series of stickers in sort of a Burma-Shave motif. I was still trying to figure out whether they were supposed to be haiku or not, by the time traffic moved on.
Look at how the bus is passing everyone else in the carpool lane. That's the bus I usually take. I was tempted to stop the car in the middle of the highway, get out, and run after the bus, screaming, "Let me in! Let me in!" It's not like it would have made much of a difference in traffic.
	Ah, the bridge, the glorious bridge. Usually by the time traffic makes it to the bridge, it's cleared out a little, as you can see here. It's sort of ironic, really, because the view from the bridge is the best view of the entire trip home, but usually I'm going too fast by the time I get to it to really be able to enjoy it. The sight of Mt. Rainier looming over the foggy horizon in the early morning is unbelievable. Just unbelievable. I like to watch the other passengers on the bus when we cross the bridge in the mornings. Most of them will put down their newspapers or magazines for a minute to check out Mt. Rainier. You can't not look at it. Unfortunately, you can't see Rainier on the evening commute, because there's trees in the way, but Lake Washington is pretty scenic all by itself.

Hmm, maybe I should have been in the right lane when I was taking these pictures. Those are really great shots of the right lane of the 520 bridge. I bet you always wondered what they looked like, huh? ...or maybe not.
	Oops. Hey, look at that, Keith must have vacuumed the car!
That bizarre-looking structure off to the right is Husky Stadium. I like it because it looks interesting, but on general principle I wish it weren't there at all, because I hate all sports stadiums. Especially the ones in my neighborhood that screw up traffic every weekend.
	This is one of those things I never really get over about Seattle. After spending four years in the urban jungle of Chicago, I am always impressed to see forest that has been left to more or less do its own thing.
Ha! Those poor fools in the oncoming lanes are just beginning their daily nightmare! And I'm almost home! Suckers!
	That's my bus stop. I wish I were getting off there today. I'd be happily reading my book and waiting for the next bus to come, rather than calculating when best to switch to the other lane so as to avoid the traffic entering the highway from the onramp that's just around the corner and trying not to get too pissed off at the SUV that has been tailgating me ever since halfway across the bridge.
Today you could actually see the mountains off in the distance. They're obscured by clouds, rain, or haze most of the time. (It looks like I'm going down a fairly steep hill here, but actually I just wasn't pointing the camera straight. Ansel Adams I ain't.)
	Construction. That sign is there to inform me that my regular exit, the one that takes me nearly straight home, is closed. It has been closed for weeks. It will probably be closed for many weeks to come. Every time I see this sign, rage overwhelms me and I want to run it down with my car. This is another reason why it's probably a good thing that I've been taking the bus lately.
Now the fun part. In about a block I'm going to need to make a left turn. You can see the problem already, I trust? But surely the nice, kind, and courteous Seattle drivers will leave a space open and will not block the intersection, right?
	...wrong. Incidentally, a couple of the people driving those cars that were totally blocking the intersection saw me take a picture of them, and looked really, really embarrassed. I smiled coldly, enjoying their pain and suffering. Actually, I should probably just be glad none of them was a Type A personality who is prone to jumping out of his car and beating up on people who take candid photographs of his car engaged in a traffic violation. And could I mix up my pronouns any more? Moving along.
The last turn before my street. I call these things "traffic circles", but Keith refuses, on the grounds that a "traffic circle" is the kind of thing you find in some European cities, or Washington D.C., and is designed to help traffic move faster. These things, on the other hand, are just a bloody-minded attempt by the local government to slow traffic down. Personally I think they lead to more accidents than if there were just stop signs, but nobody asked my opinion.