Charlie on the MTA

So J - my husband... say hello, J! - and I moved to the boonies in September. He would argue that Upland is not "the boonies" but since I grew up in San Gabriel Valley - and until a few years ago they only had a stage coach route through San Bernardino - I think I win that argument.

Why are we in Upland, you ask? Well, what had happened was....

We got evicted.

To be super precise, the landlord we leased from was being forclosed and the bank offered us money to leave. So technically we weren't... uh, yeah, actually we were evicted. It wreaked - wrought? - havoc on our whole lives. My stress level was at times in peaceful "everything will be all right" land, and at other times in "we're going to be homeless!" land. Fortunately, "everything will be all right" land is where we ended up.

Since we had to move, we decided to look for something more suitable - namely, a two-bedroom (this way, there's a door on the man cave) and less than we were paying our -turned out to be kinda shady - landlady. We quickly discovered that anything in our price range in San Gabriel Valley and its environs was a dump, even if it did have two bedrooms. To meet all of our criteria, we had to move east. So, we trekked out to J's neck of the woods and found a nearly perfect place in Upland. (We scored by getting a second bathroom!)

Two other criteria: close to a Metrolink train station (the 5-year-old boy inside me loves trains!), and "must love dogs". Or cats, actually. J especially became attached to the idea of adopting kittens.

And oh, what kittens did we adopt! They are currently bathing while I write & watch the TV. But more on them later.

So I signed up for the public transportation credit with my employer, and got a lousy $30 subsidy for my $200+ monthly Metrolink pass. I board in Montclair, alight in LA and board a new train to Burbank. One way, my commute is about 1 hr 30 mins; that's not counting layover time, actually. J drops me off in the morning and picks me up in the evening - it's very sweet. We even wave at each other as he drives away. We would do this even if he had his own car, because he promised I wouldn't have to drive myself and park there, he promised to always drop me off and pick me up.

J doesn't have his own car, you ask? No, he doesn't; there was an accident. But that's a whole other story. More on that later, too.

My first day commuting was October 1, and I was so nervous about the whole experience, I almost had diarrhea. TMI? Sorry, but it's true. It turned out to be a breeze. I knew someone at work who would be on my connection from LA to Burbank, so I looked for him and made it to work safely and on time.

Now, I'm an old pro. I usually take a book, but lately I've been borrowing a Nintendo DS to play Lego Harry Potter. Sometimes, the hour from Montclair to LA flies by, and sometimes it drags. And sometimes, I tuck my chin into the collar of my coat and snooze.

Sometimes I gaze out the window and post poetic bits about pink-bellied clouds on my Facebook (hereafter referred to as FB) page. And sometimes I watch people get arrested.

Say what?!

This one time, at band camp.... Wait! Wrong story! This one time - last Saturday, to be precise - I was taking the train to meet Nikki for a day of paying respects and baking cookies. I glanced up to see a sheriff coming up the stairs toward my seat. I started to reach for my pass, but he turned away and continued up the stairs to the next level. I went back to my cinnamelt & egg McMuffin (yum!) and gazed out the window. Next time I look up, that sheriff has been joined by another sheriff and the conductor at the top of the stairs. They have zip-tied a guy's hands behind his back and are searching his pockets! One sheriff is calling ahead to LA - supposedly to arrange drop off? Who knows! Where's my phone, I have to post this on FB!

That was the end of the drama. I never did have to present my pass, and I never quite understood what the guy was being arrested for. But I had flashbacks of watching COPS with my mom - "Shoot him in the knees and ask questions later!"

So now I do my thing. I get up at 4:00 am - oh-dark-hundred! - and get ready for work. We leave the house at 5:45a; I'm not home again until about 6:30p. It's a long day, but I've come to really enjoy riding the train. (There are some exceptions - like Mr Offensive on the evening train!) The morning train is best, because everyone is quiet and no one is pushy or crabby after a day at work - because they haven't been at work yet! I recognize faces and am friendly with some people. And in the evening, when I can find the perfect seat - both comfortable and quiet - I use that time to decompress. My headaches go away on the train and I get my second wind and am excited to see my hubs when I step off onto the platform and he's there waiting for me. I take his hand and we walk to the car together. Then we head home and snuggle and go to sleep, so I can do it all again the next day.

"And through the open window she hands

Charlie a sandwich

as the train comes rumblin' through!"

Side note - or foot note - or whatever: the kits looked at me weird when I started singing that song.