The Commute

This morning I enjoyed my ride to work via public transit.

Usually, Deborah and I drive to the office – but today she had an early morning meeting and I caught an extra hour of sleep.

All in all, it took 50 minutes on York Regional Transit and the subway. That includes standing in line for four minutes at Tim Horton’s at Finch Station.

It’s nice to be the beginning of the subway line. You almost always get a seat. Today, I made the decision I would find and keep my seat, and enjoy my banana nut muffin and steeped tea in relative comfort.

Relative comfort being wall to wall commuters. A large stainless steel can of sardines hurtling downtown.

I resisted the urge to offer my seat to anyone. Certainly, if there was a little old lady that got on the train, I would have bent my rule. Fortunately, the elderly are indeed wise and tend to avoid rush hour.

Usually, Deb and I would enjoy the morning commute together. It’s usually an hour drive, door to door. We both enjoy the enclosed intimacy of the minivan, holding hands through the gentle rocking of the stop-and-go traffic. There is the occasional phone call or howl of laughter as we listen to the Howard Stern Show.

The drive home is a whole other matter. Subway and YRT is still 50 minutes. That never changes. However, the gentle rocking of traffic slows to the speed of a parking lot as our drive-time expands to an hour and fifteen minutes, sometimes longer.

Next week, we agreed to try the subway together. Sure we may not be able to make productive phone calls, enjoy some “us” time or Howard Stern, but it should take time off our daily commute. It’s also good for the environment.

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