The Bus and the Train and the Vespa

Out on Broadway at 5:40 am yesterday waiting for the M60, trying to save the 10 dollar cab ride to the Harlem station at 125th. Last time as I waited for a cab, two M60s whizzed by empty. For $2.25 the bus takes just about as long as a cab ride. A block from the stop at 110th, an M60 whizzed by. I ran, chasing it, hoping it would be stopped by a red light. No luck. Waiting at the stop in front of the Westside Market's fruit display, a guy griped that the bus wouldn't come for another 20 minutes. I panicked. We checked the posted schedule. He's right. The M104 wouldn't come until 6:00. But the M60 comes every 7-8 minutes -- and there would be another at 5:47. As we waited he quipped to a passerby he knew, "You gonna vote, Bro?"

At 5:47, right on time, the bus arrived at 110 and Broadway. I got a single seat next to the window. Twelve minutes later, I was getting off at Park Avenue, in front of the kiosk where I buy the New York Times and the Caribbean Cafe where I buy strong Cuban coffee -- and sometimes this sweet, hot, crushed almond cereal that's served in a coffee cup.


At 6:00 am, from the Harlem River train station above 125th, the RFK bridge was a silhouette against a cream colored sky, newly light on our first work day after the end of daylight savings time. The train arrived at 6:13. By then, the black, two dimensional bridge was gaining depth against a pale milky-blue.


Coming home, I waited in the sun on the Chappaqua platform for the 2;46. I wanted to get back to vote for Mayor Bloomberg. I liked Thompson, but Bloomberg seems to have brought back the city to life. Guillani saved it from its horrible turn toward crime, Bloomberg, without being owned by special interests (except his own), seems more a benevolent, disinterested ruler -- making the city vibrant -- and seemingly safe (after the horrible 70s when it was scary to walk on Broadway at 72nd and worrying you'd get mugged -- a word we rarely hear anymore -- I'm knocking on wood.)


Caught the Lex Avenue train south, got off at 86th, voted at our old polling pace on 88th between Lex and Park, then caught the M4 that goes up Madison Avenue, across the top of the park on 110th, and all the way to Broadway where it I got off and it continued north to the Cloisters. Crossing south on 109th, walking against the light, not seeing any on-coming traffic, very tired, in a daze, I walked into a man's out-stretched arm. He had a plastic water bottle in his hand, wore a jean jacket, a pale blue knit cap, and like my mother's arm stopping me from falling forward in the front seat when she stopped too quickly, like a safety boy's arm stopping me from stepping into traffic, like an angel, he stopped me from walking into the path of a speeding Vespa. I thanked him without catching a glimpse of his face, and continued across the street toward home.