Ask most LA residents if they’ve ever taken the Metro, and you’ll probably get a blank stare, “We have a Metro? A subway?” Yep, and I’ve spent the last 2.5+ years riding it, every day. And man, have I seen some things (and wished I hadn’t seen others). Some of you have read about the crazier experiences via social media, but for those that haven’t, let’s take a walk down memory lane as I bid the train adieu (at least for now).
For those needing a frame of reference, this was my route (and here is a link):
I once read somewhere that you can often tell the affluence of a neighborhood by the presence of power lines – and nowhere is this more true than when passing through some of the neighborhoods of LA on the Blue Line. I remember some stretches where all I could see in the distance were power lines and decaying apartment buildings, and I certainly pondered my own economic privilege; a sense of privilege I would like Isabel to appreciate as she grows up.
I also remember the few times I had to walk the Hollywood Walk of Fame to bypass shutdown stations due to unexpected delays (one of which was a track jumper), with one of these delays adding nearly 2 extra hours onto the commute, and causing me to walk in the door during bath time.
I often saw the same people, maybe not on a daily basis, but there were the regulars. There was this guy, whom I saw multiple times with the same fox/raccoon hat. There was the guy that would stand really close to the doors, dance as if nobody was watching, yell random words/sounds, and sometimes even make faces out the window to people standing on the platform. And there was the lady that spoke in tongues, trying to impart her juju religious non-sense, repeating the same weird crap over and over and over again; if I was lucky enough to see or hear her before getting into her car, I ran far far away. And while one particular lady wasn’t a regular, I will never forget her narrowly missing my head with a flying travel-size bottle of alcohol as she proceeded to get in my face and call me a white devil.
I saw some of the same people asking for change throughout my entire train tenure, witnessing physical changes only a life on the streets could inflict, and listened to the same “artists” play guitar, perform their “holy” raps, and apologize profusely for disturbing us (trust me, I’d rather listen to your song than the crappy music blaring out of the phone next to me).
The same peddlers hawked their candy, headphones, chargers, body oils, popcorn, soda, and DVDs. Some were selling out of their backpack, others dragged coolers from one train car to the next, and one guy had a neatly organized rolling suitcase to showcase his goodies. The hustle in these folks was admirable, at times amusing, and I always wondered how much money they actually made vs. the time spent trolling the tracks each afternoon and evening.
I overhead heated arguments, awkward conversations, and random stories about life. I witnessed kindness between strangers who had just met, confusion from tourists trying to understand the system, and stressed parents trying to calm their crazy or crying kids.
I reflected on the fact that riding the train was a choice and not a financial necessity, that I had the luxury to endure unexpected delays without consequences for being late to my destination, and was thankful that the train was the only element of the Metro system that I relied on, on a daily basis.
The train became study hall for grad school, a place to finish uncompleted work from the day, a relatively distraction-free environment to write blog posts, and a place to read the newspaper. I can honestly say that I “reconnected” with the LA Dodgers while riding the train because I read the sports section each day (this was also the most coveted section by fellow riders), not to mention being fairly up-to-date with world events.
Perhaps the most memorable ride, and arguably the most important, was on September 20, 2013. We had secured a last-minute ultrasound in a different part of LA, which required me to take a different line for the only time ever during these 2.5 years. I snapped this photo near the station, we went to the appointment, and we learned our daughter was coming earlier than expected because she was a little too small. I don’t believe in fate, but this might have been as close as I’ve ever gotten.
You’ve been good to me LA Metro. You saved us a ton of money, probably a ton of time (although it didn’t always feel that way), and gave me an experience I will never forget. Until we meet again…
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