Ridin' Around

After having sole possession of my golden baby, Lucius "Lucy" Camry, for four years, I am now car-less.

And it's never been better.

Owning a car and living in a big city is more hassle than it's worth.  You have to find somewhere to park it every night, you are constantly saving nickels and dimes or picking pennies off the street to save for a later time when you KNOW you're going to be running to feed a meter, gas costs more than $4 a gallon and you have to choose between putting food in your stomach or gas in your car, DC parking police pretty much follow you around the city just waiting for the one time you slip up and park within five feet of a driveway and they have permission to steal your car, and taxis have decided that, to get your attention in stand-still traffic, horns will no longer suffice- they are going to need to nudge your bumper and ruin any previous attempts at owning a dent-free car.

After all this, it's no wonder that I have welcomed public transportation into my life with open arms.  The metro is my best friend.  Not only is it fast, fairly clean, simple to navigate, and mostly reliable, it forces me to walk (to get to the stop.  Or to transfer lines. because I am too cheap to pay to wait for the transfer station), meet new people (best place to have a conversation.  they're stuck sitting there next to you with nowhere to run), catch up on reading, or simply take a power nap.  When I was little, the metro was my second-favorite part about DC (my first was the carousel on the mall. Obviously) - and not much has changed.  Sometimes I miss my stop on purpose and keep riding the metro for fun.  That's embarrassing. Can't believe I just admitted that.

Anyways, my story today is clearly about the metro.  I was waiting for the metro a few nights ago, during rush hour, and the trains were single-tracking... meaning that every single person in the entire city (practically) was waiting with me on the platform.  The train finally arrived and I shoved into a car with half of DC... only to realize (once the doors shut) that the AC was out in that specific car.  Sweat started beading up on my forehead and unpleasant smells began to crop up all around me - I knew I was going to have to make a mad-dash for the next car once we got to the next station.  We pulled up at Dupont, the doors slid open, and I pushed through the crowds.  I made it to the next car just in time, slipping through the doors and noticing that the back of the car was completely empty.  I started back towards the open section and lovely cold air engulfed me-as well as the scent of puke.  Someone had thrown up all over the back end of the car.  No wonder this car was empty.  Naturally, the smell of puke makes me want to throw up- so I enjoyed a lovely two minute ride to the next station without breathing.   As soon as the train stopped (again), I sprinted off towards the next car, praying that I wouldn't find anything worse than my previous two experiences.  And this is what I found:

I love this city.   Even after sweaty-pits car and vomit-stench car, my whole day was brightened by the random potted plant in car #3.  Small moments like this happen all the time- we just need to stop and appreciate them.

This experience reminded me of a wonderful quote by Jenkin Lloyd Jones, relayed by President Gordon B. Hinckley:

“Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he has been robbed.

“[The fact is] most putts don’t drop. Most beef is tough. Most children grow up to be just people. Most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration. Most jobs are more often dull than otherwise. …

“Life is like an old-time rail journey—delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed.

“The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride"


I love my life.  The past few months have proven to be a "jolting, delayed, and sidetracked" ride - and I don't expect much to change in the coming months.  The trick is to stay positive, continue to work hard, have goals, and find joy in the small things.  Like potted plants.