Gracious Me

Do you remember the scene in Gone with the Wind when Ashley reminisces about the long lazy days at Twelve Oaks before the war? 

Contrast that picture with hopping on the cattle car, also known as the C-train at 5:45 a.m.  The new trains, which I only saw first hand this morning, have seating running along the sides that are so tight you are literally packed on their like proverbial sardines.  I sat in one with no one on either side of me for exactly one stop at which point two persons got on either side of me and crammed me down with their arms.  Sure there is enough room for every normal sized person’s butte however they made no accounting for the space above, also known as arms and shoulders.  And we are talking about the early bird train.  When I am on the normal train there is plenty of seating for everyone but today, on this type of train, people were already standing at the third stop.  On the regular bus there is seldom anyone standing at this time of day. 

Isn’t there something wrong with this picture?  Doesn’t this sound like a regression back to circa 1945 NYC?  Certainly not the type of transportation a person should be subjected to at that time of the morning going into work.  I understand rush hour when the big rush is on, but for those of us who get up extra early to avoid all this, what the heck happened?

That’s the first part of the story.  The second part is the homeward journey.  Now that I am back on the “slower” highway driving I find that I am experiencing just as much sense of urgency when we get to the Okotoks intersection.  As God is my witness, the people who live in Okotoks have the most profound sense of Me First that I have ever borne witness to!  God forbid that anyone should beat them to the pass, you’d think money was at stake instead of getting home to beat up the wife or yell at the kids.  Seriously, what’s the big rush?  Why can’t you take it at a normal clip and merge like a rational person.  That’s right, I’m forgetting that the phase of gracious living is a bygone era.

But allow me to end this negative rant on a positive note.  When I got on the train this evening a true gentleman immediately offered me his seat.  I was huffing and puffing from running to catch it and I wonder if I looked like I might be on the verge of dying or if he was really being a gentleman.  In any event I’m saying a special prayer for him tonight.  And just so you know, he was not wearing a suit, he was obviously a construction worker by his dress.  Nice men are still there in the bushes.