Morning Commute: Entry Twenty-Nine:

Hey, something I wrote on the morning commute morphed...

http://www.disclexington.com/cbus/video/mannie.mov

Morning Commute: Entry Twenty-Eight:

I should go back to the train commute but it's Spring and so very hard to leave the garden so very early My bands are recording too That means lots of roughmixes to listen to and I don't like headphones and the car stereo is so very nice and I can sit back and hear the songs over and over and over again so very loud Besides I have a new toy that allows downloading mp3's and listen to them in the car over an empty FM frequency That is so very neat Although it wasn't so very neat at first because it didn't work and I had to send it back and get a new one and even this one is quirky Like sometimes it won't start up until I take the controller out of the "backpack" replug the backpack into an outlet and then stick the controller back in I thought it was my fault so I went to the Neuros forum and saw that other folks had the same problem and other problems too Yet users are posting over and over and over again the Neuros Support Staff is eager to please And I have to agree I called Neuros Support from my car phone well actually my cell phone in the car but that seems so long and drawn out to say or write sort of like this aside I do most of my support calls from the car phone I'm in the car so very long It's a great use of commute time and in my former life I was a technical support engineer so I know the ropes It's a bit tricky to call somebody about a software problem from the car because they always want to walk you through the problem so I memorize the steps at home and when they ask if I am in front of the computer right now I say yes yes I am My computer screen should in fact be as big and nice to look at as a windshield Anyway I told the guy my problem He didn't ask many questions before getting an address to send a new one He said they'd made big improvements just in the last week Then came a pleasant surprise He said that he lived right down the street And as it turns out Neuros is headquartered in Chicago And so a new controller wouldn't take so very long to arrive We talked about the neighborhood a bit how much we like the Skylark down on Halsted and the biannual Pilsen Art Walk I told him about the Italian Deli on my block which he was happy to hear about Well after a while he had to go and I told him to enjoy the beautiful day After that even with the quirks I was determined to support my neighborhood audio technology industry and so far so good Even though the Neuros forum has lots of complaints about not being able to find an open frequency in large metropolitan areas I thought it might work in Chicago because to the left of the dial Chicago radio stations have about as much transmitting power as my Neuros HD30 In some ways of course that is too bad I can't enjoy all the good radio on my commute particularly my neighborhood station Radio Arte which is sponsored by the Mexican Fine Arts Museum and run by neighborhood kids who have surprisingly good tastes You have to be under 23 to be a dj there or I would volunteer Anyway I downloaded some songs recommended by astrobleme and they were a first attempt at playing stuff from the Neuros over the car stereo The Neuros automatically finds an open frequency in this case 88.5 which is a fine example of an excellent station with lowwattage The songs are ambient and at times so very quiet yet there wasn't much static I'm going to do lots of stuff with this Neuros in a short time because it is quirky and if it's going to break it should break sooner than later so I can get a new one or money back So tonight on the commute home I'm going to buy a tiny preamp and a tiny microphone and then at band practice record which this thing can do which is so very cool

Morning Commute: Entry Twenty-Seven

blue sky traffic jam
paramedics on the scene
nods dazed immobile

Morning Commute: Entry Twenty-Six

site says clear
from downtown to burbs
--hurtful lies

Morning Commute: Entry Twenty-Five:

bulbs loom green
along the roadside
--traffic cops

Morning Commute: Entry Twenty-Four:

sun warmed bed--
late morning commute
rains upon

Morning Commute: Entry Twenty-Three

This week's posts,

I have decided

to haiku.

If haiku

can be used as a

verb, that is.

If not then,

this week's posts will be

poetic

Morning Commute: Entry Twenty-Two:

I drove to work again today which I haven't done in a long time. I mean, I drove to work yesterday (and the day before but not Tuesday, also Monday too) but today is Friday and I don't normally drive to work on Friday. Traffic's bad.

I listened to music on the drive. Some of it (about 45 seconds) I wrote and recorded myself. It's a personal song I wrote but not for me. I wrote it for a guy I will call Joey who asked me and others to write a personal song; to record it to analog four track; in a place that I do not normally record things; and to give it to him for a compilation. I like the song I recorded. I play piano which I don't normally do but I played it well. After all I only had to play good for 45 seconds. I listened to that song over and over in the car on the way to work today, and yesterday and the day before yesterday.

The other songs I listened to, I did not record. That is not a trick answer because I was given the CD's from the drummer in my band churchbus. They are not my songs but they are his songs in that he wrote some of them or played on them or something like that. I was surprised at some of the songs, like Strong, I'm in Love with my Band, and others whose names I do not know because I was driving and so I couldn't look over at the cover to read them. I did not know the C*nts were so good.

But now I do. And I like them.

Morning Commute: Entry Twenty-One

I haven't commuted all week. I mean, I've gone to work (except Tuesday when I worked remotely) but I didn't take public transit. I drove.

I listened to music on the drive. Some of it (about 45 seconds) I wrote and recorded myself. It's a personal song I wrote but not for me. I wrote it for a guy I will call Joey who asked me and others to write a personal song; to record it to analog four track; in a place that I do not normally record things; and to give it to him for a compilation. I like the song I recorded. I play piano which I don't normally do but I played it well. After all I only had to play good for 45 seconds. I listened to that song over and over in the car on the way to work today, and yesterday.

The other songs I listened to, I also recorded. But that is a trick answer because I recorded them to CD from vinyl 45's. They are not my songs in that I did not write them or play them or anything like that. I was surprised at some of the 45's I happen to own, like Really Red, Thirteen Floor Elevators, and Carl Perkins. I did not know I owned any Carl Perkins.

But I do. And I like him.

Morning Commute: Entry Twenty:

What a beautiful day. It's an easy walk to the stop, a breezy ride cross town on the 49 Express.

A Puerto Rican mother and daughter get on after me. They sit across from me. They never look at me. They are immaculately dressed - new sneakers, new jeans, new jackets. Especially mother, she is a counter balance to the city's grime. Her white jacket, shoes and pink handbag repel dirt as if protected by a force field of purity. The little girl is a cutie. She will be beautiful like her mom, though she won't have those fantastically impenetrable teal eyes.

Mother picks up her cell phone and in common commute fashion (of a certain commuting element) spews rank fire from her pursed lips. It is a dangerous fire that needs only itself to feed on. The safest distance is on the other end of the line (provided the commute is not in the direction of the receiver). Like smoke, it can permeate your skin, especially around the head. It contaminates you.

The little cutie is oblivious to the flames. She is small enough to escape its vile fumes, but for how long? The source is a dry and brittle mess, ready to spontaneously combust at any moment. Her polished nails are weapons. Her tattoo, scribbled across the top of her wrist, jasmine, is a battle scar. Her white clothes are a sponge, absorbing all the grime that surrounds her yet leaving a veneer that says this is what I would like to be, pure unstained and new.

Morning Commute: Entry Nineteen:

Morning Commute: Entry Eighteen:

Some lyrics I wrote on the commute...

Manny liked to run. He had a theory...
running tells the body, it is in danger.
Manny believed that this is good for your heart, you see?

Manny ran bezerkly,
as if something dark and scary was hunting him.

That was a problem because Manny lived in the bustling city.

It would also be a problem in the country
because dark and scary things
have a tendency
to be attracted to things
that run bezerkly
globally.

The cops stopped him, padded him down for loot.
A would-be hero took out his neighbor
he thought was in pursuit.

A van hospitalized him,
nearly paralyzed him,
de-theorized him.

Manny's heart kept pumping anyway.

That was a problem because...
Manny truly was being hunted by a dark and scary thing.

Morning Commute: Entry Seventeen:

TTN* Food Tip:

Canned Fish.

Look for fish canned in water. It is lower in fat and salt than fish canned in oil.



*Transit Television Network

Morning Commute: Entry Sixteen:

TTN* Trivia Question:

Q. How many times a day does a woman laugh?


A. 55


*Transit Television Network

Morning Commute: Entry Fifteen:

The new buses are fine. The ride is bumpier. These buses have monitors that show us the weather report, news from Reuters and advertisements. They have more leg room. These buses have commuter card readers. The old buses did not so I had to pay cash or use a 30-day pass. This means I will save money because I've been buying 30-day passes for the convenience even though I don't commute every day.

It is strange to sit on a city bus on the express way. I wonder what would happen if I pulled on the string to request a stop at the toll way oasis. It's not an official bus stop so I guess the driver would not have to oblige me. But they have a variety of treats there for everyone.

Morning Commute: Entry Fourteen:

Morning Commute: Entry Thirteen:

Morning Commute: Entry Twelve:

It's almost bright when I leave the house. The blue sky is peeking through the residual clouds of last night's snow storm, reflecting off fresh white surfaces.

St. Patrick's Day is around the corner. So reminds himself taking a seat in front of me with his green baseball cap with white shamrock and his green jacket with plaid lining. Black Irish of the Southside.

His hands are long and calloused. The kind one can imagine emphasized in a woodcut. He takes great care with everything they touch. They study the Sun-Times which they carefully unfolded and removed from a string binding. They move across one particular article for several stops. They extract the advertisement inserts and neatly fold the paper and set aside. Each insert is systematically studied, folded and placed inside the largest insert which is creased at the end to keep them all together. This is tucked into the newspaper which is rolled once, placed back into its string binding and inserted into a slim black bag in perparation for exodus. Is coma nos alicubi in downtown tunnel

Morning Commute: The Original Entry

I haven't commuted in two weeks. Here is the original journal entry, jotted down on a folded piece of paper intended for an exquisite corpse 12/15/2004...

The commute, journalize the early morning trip from W24th Pl Chicago, IL to 3333 Beverly Rd, Hoffman Estates, IL via the CTA Blue Line from the S. Western stop to Rosemont, then by Pace bus to the Sears Headquarters. Total Distance 40 miles. Total time one hour and fifty minutes. On 12/15/2004, incidentally the day after our 8th wedding anniversary, the fare is $2.00 which includes one transfer. I use a monthly fare card ($75/month - minus ~30% due to pre-tax purchase). I drive two days a week. I am not by nature a morning person. The trip start time is 6:50 AM. Arrival 8:48 AM. Gasoline price currently >$2/gal. MPG for our VW Golf 30 miles/gallon. Toll fares vary depending on route 25 cents one way 65 cents another.

Quiet ride - cold crisp morning - pretty but not distinct sunrise colors bouncing off the steel white dome of the United Center then sharpening the lettering on the Truckers Union Building. Cute frail giggling Asian students on at UIC. Man across sees that I am writing, looks over often. He must assume I am writing about him. He's an older man - his thick wool cap gives rooster dimension to his bird-ish profile.

This time of year, light is dim and streaky before entering downtown subway. When we pop up at Division, Full Light. The day is blue and clear.

People in front: Young black man tucked into padded winter coat with fur lined hood with backpack and printed knit cap. Cute blonde girl with high heeled black leather boots, dressed in black with head cold. Elderly lady in hooded jacket, hood up - possibly Eastern European immigrant. Business man, round, black wool jacket, glasses, black knit cap. Business woman in teal jacket, wavy dirty blonde hair, listens to CD's through headphones. Black man tan jacket glasses knit cap. People dressed for cold but train is warm. Cute blonde's hair strikingly long. Young white man in tight grey wool jacket, black knit cap reads paper back, black side bag, black shoes, crisp

blue

jeans.

Morning Commute: Entry Eleven:

A school boy studies his notes set in the small triangle created by his cross-legged position which he can afford because he is sitting in one of those three position seats at the front of the bus that can't hold more than two average-size people anyway.

His notes are a series of small words set in bubbles, most of which are connected to one another with pen lines. Some bubbles are set in a larger kidney shaped bubble. His notes resemble a population map of the United States, East to West through Utah. Most of the bubbles are crammed together on the right spreading thinner due West with a second congregation in the Chicago area and then much thinner with only a few in the kidney shaped bubble (aka the inhospitable Southwest region).

I am handed a free copy of the Red Eye at the entrance to the N. Western Blue Line train station. The Red Eye is an alternate edition of the Chicago Tribune marketed to younger readers. It is usually 25 cents and as one might expect much thinner than a regular paper. News never adorns the cover. Today it is consumed by Janet Jackson, announcing that she won't be in the SuperBowl half-time show (so in effect, she won't be making any news this week).

On the second page is a commentary by a staffwriter who just turned 36 which happened to me a few months back too. She feels very old and sorry for herself. She tries to fatten her lips with a medicinal product that only makes her cry. She then smears her face with mud but she still isn't satisfied until she seeks advise from her mother who tells her that if she doesn't want to see wrinkles she should stop looking at herself.

The next story is about an Iraqi Rebel group that put a photo of a toy soldier online claiming it was a captured U.S. combatant. I identified with something in the adjacent photo, particularly the little plastic gun up to Commander Cody's little head. I imagine that kids today might play with toy soldiers in such a manner - making them terrorist captives, decapitating them and what not.

The "Need to know" section claims we need to worry about the Pope's successor and Congress' indecency ruling. On the next page, it is announced that dePaul University made a deal so that their students can download mp3's for free.

The international page is called FYI World.

I like the weather icons - each square (1/day + 5 day/forecast) depicts the same chisel-faced winking guy. You can tell the weather by the condition of his quaff. If it's cold he dons a cap; if it's raining, his hair is drooping and soggy; if it's windy his hair blows around...you get the idea.