The end of the line.

Last night, I took my last Blue Line ride as a regular commuter to and from Downtown LA. It was quiet, uneventful and only just longer than average.

Still, it was a strange trip. I left work - for the last time ever - a bit later than usual. It was dark and the rain that was supposed to arrive earlier in the day was still holding off, though I could smell it coming. I took a moment to soak in the lights of downtown: the secret code of thehigh-rise windows, the swirling spotlights calling the Lakers faithful over to Staples Center, the reflection of all this off of the gathering clouds. I disappeared into the underground station.

The platform was busier than typical, but not crowded. I looked around at the faces of some folks and saw everything you can see: smiles, fatigue, concern, irritation. I wonder what I looked like? Can you see "laid-off" in someone's face? I don't know, but I felt separate. I no longer have a job to scurry to, to fret about, to ground me. I saw a colleague on the other side of the tracks, running for the Red Line. I thought about yelling out to her, but I didn't. I'd said my goodbyes.

When I got on the train - backpack, bags and as yet unnecessary umbrella settled - the first thing that happened never happens to me on transit: I got sucked into some smalltalk. A guy dressed in the standard-issue navy blazer, pants and tie of a building security person eventually asked me what I "did for work". That gave me practice in talking about my job in the past tense. He got off two stops later, thankfully.

It was full night outside and as I looked out the window, it was easier to see the reflection of the inside of the train car than anything outside. I didn't get to see my last regular glimpse of the warehouse district or south central. I could see streetlamps poking holes in the darkness and neon signs for junior markets. A smile hit my face every time I saw a house with Christmas light up already.

I talked to my wife about my day while riding the last bit through Long Beach, but ended the call so I could juggle all my stuff. I got off. Still, no rain.

The bus arrived, I rode, I arrived. Dinner was cooked, a bit of wine consumed. Addie and I celebrated what's coming next.

I can't wait.

Thanks, everyone for reading my Tales from the Blue Line!

Look for a new blog in the near future.

Bloggy updates and a bus story.

So I have only four more trips on the Blue Line before I'm officially done with the process of being laid off my job. Uh... yay?

As I said earlier, I'm going to probably change/move the blog, as I have some free time coming up while I look for a job. (Again... uh... yay?)

My abortion blog post is still incubating. Sorry. But have you ever tried to write something short and pithy about abortion? Not easy.

In the meantime, the universe seems to have realized that I'm not going to be riding transit much longer and is showing me things that I could never have imagined... with you fine readers as the beneficiary.

Had a normal, event-free train ride (except for the 8 hyper-kinetic teens riding down to the movie theater to see Twilight), and then caught my bus. First of all, the driver we had needs remedial work. He pulls into stops really slowly and 20 feet from the actual stop, thus adding time and blocking traffic and crosswalks. But fine, whatever... it was Friday. I was just happy to be close to home.

But something else was slowing things down. An older lady sitting near the front of the bus pulled the cord right after I got on. The bus stopped at the next stop and the lady leans forward but doesn't move. We move on.

A few stops later, she did this again: pulled the cord, the bus stopped, and no one got off.

She does this a third time and people began grumbling out loud. The bus stopped and she didn't move. She finally said something to the bus driver.

"What stop is this?"

He replied: "I don't know. I didn't see the sign." (Again - remedial work please.)

Someone said, pretty loudly, something like, "It's Falcon! And you don't have to stop the bus to see what stop it is! Just ask someone first!"

To which she replied: "Everyone needs to get out of debt and buy a house now, because the apocalypse is coming!"

So... there you go. My stop was two later. Thanks to the driver, I had to get out right in front of a car trying to turn left and walk around it.

Thanks, universe! Can't wait to see what happens on Monday and Tuesday.

Change is coming... and it's not what you think.

Just a quick note to my 3 readers:

I am officially out of a job as of December 1. Laid off. Kaput. Tuesday, November 25th is my last trip on the Blue Line. With unemployment (hopefully for only a short time) on the horizon and a job search ensuing, the likelihood of my continuing this (nominally) Blue Line-themed blog is going the way of the wood-fired steam engine.

I'll let you 3 know when things move or change. I've got a .Mac - sorry; Mobile Me - account that I might use so I can do a few more things aside from the blog. We'll see.

One thing is for sure: if I do continue to blog, there will be less of a self-filtering and more variety in topics.

As an example, my next post will likely be a light romp about abortion. That's just how I roll.

What will I do with my schadenfreude? [Updated]

My good friend Sassy Blonde has taken the high road on the schadenfreude we progressives likely feel as a result of the electoral landslide that Barack Obama pulled off on Tuesday. I get that, and I’ll get there. But do I still have leftover ill-will towards towards the government of the last eight years? Let me put it this way:

Did our government of the last eight years cede the moral high-ground on torture and any number of moral issues?

Did ‘compassionate conservatism’ fail?

Did the our president govern like a king imbued with divine right, stripping rights and invading privacy in a misguided and creepy attempt to ‘protect’ us?

Did they lie to us to get us to get us to buy into the longest, most disastrous war in America’s history?

Did the policies of de-regulation and rampant mergers and grotesque CEO salaries help the free market economy fail? (Have I mentioned yet on this blog that I’m being laid off my job as of the end of this month? I don’t think I have, but it’s true. Thanks (in part), Phil Graham!)

Is the bear that shits in the woods Catholic?

The answer to all of this is, of course, yes. And while my Buddha nature is chiding me for it, and I think that working together is better than not, I need a little more time to grind my progressive boot-heel into the neck of a bankrupt conservatism. Just a little.

Though, by this weekend I hope say goodbye to all that and to have schadenfreude only for LSU fans. Roll Tide!

[Update: Sassy has had enough!]

This was momentous...

I can tell...

...because of the pile of tissues by my chair.

...because of the blissful exhaustion I feel.

...because of the 13 tabs in my browser.

...because of the empty wine bottles.

...because of my easily-worn Buddha smile.

...because 'We are the Champions' is running through my head.

A job well done.

We all worked for this day, people. Drink up.

Yes. We. Did.