Home > Opinion > Commutants! > Archives > 2005 > November
November 2005
The 15-second human interaction
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Walking slows the whole world down. You see and learn things that you can’t see and learn in a car. At the convenience store at the corner of Collier and Peachtree, I met Mansoorali, a pleasant man from Bombay who runs the place in the morning. We chatted about caffeine (I don’t care for coffee but I need my Diet Coke). Mansoorali said he doesn’t drink caffeine at all and in fact lives a very healthy lifestyle avoiding, in addition, cigarettes and alcohol. His father in India raised him right, he said. He also mentioned that no one stops in at the store for more than one minute — it’s typically 15 seconds tops.
“No one takes time to talk and get to know about a place or people,” said Mansoorali. “I’ve been to 14 countries and love learning. People are in too big of a hurry.”
I told him about some friends from India here in Atlanta. After five minutes — about 20 times longer than the average customer! — I wished him a great day and headed out once again.
Permalink | Comments (13) | Categories: Carla Caldwell
This MARTA thing’s not so bad
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
A male friend, a good-hearted family guy who regularly rides MARTA offered this advice as I prepared for my first trek to work by bus this morning: “Don’t look up. Take a book. Don’t make eye contact.”
I’ve read the Commutant blog this week and been amused, even horrified, at some things passengers have described. But, I’m game, I thought, after all I have a warped sense of humor.
I certainly didn’t want to see the occasional lewd behavior and racist incidents that some riders complained about, but I did want to take in the scene of strangers confined together for a short time in a small space on a MARTA bus and train.
I walked the quarter-mile to the bus station on Peachtree Road to wait on the 23 bus that would take me to the Arts Center train station for the ride downtown. I live near Piedmont Hospital off Collier Road and can make the 4.1-mile trip in exactly 15 minutes. Today’s total trip time was 45 minutes – shorter than I’d expected.
As I continued the block to the bus stop, I encountered eight or nine soldiers, dressed in camo and carrying rifles, walking silently down Peachtree Street in recognition of Veteran’s Day.
The bus arrived at the stop five minutes after I did, three-quarters full and way too quiet. A cell phone yakker boarding at the next stop makes up for that.
At the Arts Center train platform I met Terese Taylor, a nice young woman from Ohio who was studying an Atlanta map. Taylor, who works in human resources in Cincinnati, said she is taking a look-see at Atlanta. We talked people, traffic, Ohio. We parted at the Five Points station, where I gave her my business card and told her to call me for lunch if she ends up in Atlanta.
The station was clean and an attendant at a turnstile even helped me find the right exit to the Five Points Plaza. When I walked into the sunlight there was a penny, heads-up, shining up at me. I picked it up, made a wish and dropped it into my purse.
Permalink | Comments (5) | Categories: Carla Caldwell
The 6-mile walk back home
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
One small problem walking to work on Thursday - the six-mile return trip in the evening. By that time, I was tired and facing a less forgiving deadline. I could afford to stroll into work 30 minutes late in the morning, but I had to be on time for my babysitter.
So, while the morning trek was pleasant and unhurried and I could sightsee and sip a tasty Mocha Freeze, the homebound journey was frantic and punishing.
I must have looked pained because I had two different guys call out some version of that annoying “How bad can it be - let me see a smile” remark.
I was tempted to say, “Oh, it’s bad. Real bad. My house is in foreclosure. My grandmother died and my children like Abba.”
Permalink | Comments (2) | Categories: Maureen Downey
Commuting, with children …
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
I normally drive my two children to pre-K and daycare and then drive to the H.E. Holmes MARTA station and catch a train to work. I ride MARTA by choice; I don’t want to deal with parking downtown, and I want some time to read something other than Dora, Little Bill and Spot. Today, as a Commutant, I left the car at home and set out with the girls to catch a bus to school and daycare. At 7 a.m., I was standing on the corner, in the cold, waiting for the bus with my euthusiastic 5-year-old Danielle, my protesting 13-month-old Jocelyn and a stuffed gorilla named “GJ” on his way to show-and-tell at Danielle’s school.
The bus arrived 22 freezing minutes later. We only rode seven blocks or so before having to get off and walk the rest of the way to Danielle’s school. By now baby Jocelyn has fallen asleep. Fifteen minutes later after dropping off Danielle, we catch a bus to Holmes station and then walk 15 more minutes to the family daycare that Jocelyn attends. Then it’s back to the station for me.
I see other walkers, including a woman who dropped trash on the street just a few feet away from a trash can. I finally catch the train and get to work about 30 minutes later than normal.
I do not envy mothers who have to make those treks to schools, daycare and then to work. They have to get up earlier, get their children up earlier and spend more time just getting around.
Once aboard the train, I pull the newspaper out and am greeted by stories on terrorist bombings and genes that raise the risk of heart attack in African-Americans. Important things I need to know, but now I’m starting to look forward to another Little Bill book.
Permalink | Comments (4) | Categories: Veronica Johnson
Buses and trains aren’t the way
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Adventure week is ending. Never got around to the bus. Based on the published trip schedules and colleagues’ accounts, the trip down to Atlanta from Cobb would gobble huge chunks of time.
Buses are for emergencies, for those with time to burn, for those who otherwise drive long distances, for those who work fixed times and rarely go elsewhere during the day, and for the carless.
Putting more big buses on neighborhood routes in what once was considered “suburban” Atlanta doesn’t, in most instances, give us “choice.” As with trains, it is an investment in nostalagia. Too few potential riders.
The best approach to congestion relief is to subject “solutions” to cost-benefit analysis. Buy real relief — and that’s most likely added lanes, improved roads and ramps and smarter signaling.
Permalink | Comments (114) | Categories: Jim Wooten
Will our bosses ever get a clue?
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
The AJC has news offices in five metro locations besides downtown. I’m working in the one in Cobb right now. It is five miles from my home, and it takes me 10 to 12 minutes to get here in rush hour.
By working here two days a week, instead of downtown, I can save 40 percent in fuel costs per week and cut commuting time by about the same amount.
Sounds simple, doesn’t it? Why can’t more of us do it?
Corporate America, I think, likes to talk about carpooling and telecommuting more than it actually wants to encourage them.
Too many bosses still operate under the “a* in chairs” culture — meaning when they emerge from their offices during the day they want to see the minions toiling away at their desks.
That’s hard to do when the staff is distributed in remote locations or working at home. And carpooling requires bosses to give their employees flexible schedules so they can come and go in something close to the same time frame as their driving buddies.
What did I learn this week? That I’m glad I can work close to home at least a couple of days a week and that I have friends and co-workers who can drive with me. I hope my bosses learned the same thing.
Permalink | Comments (4) | Categories: Mike King
6 miles of rolling bones and stalking feet
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
After walking to work this morning from Decatur, I have concluded that those pedestrian signal buttons at busy intersections are traffic engineers’ idea of a wedgie. My husband says he has it on good authority — a county traffic guy — that most of the buttons are not even connected to anything. If I waited for the walk signals to cross the street today, I’d still be at Edgewood and Boulevard.
But otherwise the six-mile walk was great, taking me through Lake Claire, Candler Park and Inman Park, the core of liberal Atlanta. I am glad my colleague Jim Wooten wasn’t with me. Jim, with the John Kerry signs still on lawns, the Che Guevara T-shirts in shop windows and the “Bush Lies” graffiti on the sidewalks, it would have been your Trail of Tears.
I got hungry about halfway through and considered stopping at my boss Cynthia Tucker’s house for breakfast. But I knew the only thing in her fridge was probably a jar of low-fat mayonnaise.
Even though I’ve driven this route a thousand times, I saw things today I never noticed before, including a shop selling love potions, a lighting store with the sign, “Think outside the bulb,” and a drive-through barbecue joint called Rolling Bones. My favorite sight was a front-yard fountain whose water spouted through a pumpkin.
I collected friendly nods from other walkers, but the bikers in Spandex snubbed me. I kept expecting to see Cynthia puffing her way to work on her bike, but she claims she took a different route than I did. She showed up at the office in bike shorts and a helmet but I told her I wanted to inspect her car to see whether a bike rack was on top.
Permalink | Comments (1) | Categories: Maureen Downey
Don’t try this at home
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
|
Having read about the death of runner Patricia Foell, who was struck by a car while jogging in the predawn darkness yesterday, I nearly abandoned my plan to bike in this morning.
I did it anyway, and it was, by far, the riskiest commute I’ve had all week — and that includes taking MARTA after dark!
Metro Atlanta drivers have no respect for pedestrians, joggers, cyclists, roller bladers or anyone else who takes to the roadways without the minimum armor of two tons of steel.
Permalink | Comments (226) | Categories: Cynthia Tucker
A long, long walk in Gwinnett
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
6 a.m.: on foot in Snellville.
Lots of looks: I am more than a curiosity. I am abnormal.
Snellvillians are fluent in “car”; they do not speak “bus” or “train.” To become a carless commutant, however, I must walk 6.3 miles — 6.3 miles! — from my house near South Gwinnett High School to catch the Gwinnett Transit bus at Ga. 124 and Sugarloaf Parkway. That takes me to Gwinnett Place Mall, where I have to catch a second bus to the AJC’s plant in Norcross.
From my house to the office, one way, takes me almost four hours. I can drive to work in 30 to 45 minutes.
I am nervous. The stars are still out as I leave the house. I can hear the tractor-trailers on U.S. 78. I breathe deeply, give myself a pep talk and set off. Then, in darkness, I trip over the newspaper in my driveway.
I pass a herd of school buses warming up near the school, expelling a cloud of exhaust that hovers overhead, white against the navy sky.
With each crossing of a dangerous road (U.S. 78, Ga. 124, Ronald Reagan Parkway, Sugarloaf Parkway), I feel more confident. It is a wonderful morning, actually — cool, breezy. As the sun rises, I feel even better. I finish the 10K-plus walk in a little more than an hour and a half, and during that time I don’t see another person on foot. I duck into a McDonald’s for coffee, then board the #40, which is right on time.
The first bus ride takes about an hour. The second takes a little longer. By that time, my shoes and socks — wet from the morning walk in tall grass — are making my feet cold, and I am anxious to get to work.
The bus is a tease. Several times we come close to my office, only to turn and wind through other areas before circling back. It reminds me of the dream where you can see the end, you just can’t get there.
At work, the only time I really miss my car is when hunger drives me to the pimento cheese sandwich in the office vending machine. No running out to pick up something when you don’t have a car. Should have packed a lunch.
The ride home is more interesting. My second bus is small, forcing passengers together. Cheryl, my seatmate, eats Reese’s Pieces and reads USA Today. She asks what I thought of Camilla Parker’s hat. I tell her it looks like it could take somebody’s eye out. By the time she got off at Discover Mills, she has shown me her grandson’s photo.
On the walk home, I notice that at times I am going faster than the traffic on Scenic Highway. A member of my church offers me a ride, but I am over halfway home, so I keep going.
Today’s commute was four hours each way. In a fast car, you could commute to Charlotte in four hours. But I didn’t go to another state. I didn’t even go to another county. Still, for $3.50, I saw a different Gwinnett, made a friend and got a workout. Not bad.
Permalink | Comments (16) | Categories: Susan Gast
At 70, she hikes to the bus stop
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Judging from the responses I’ve gotten so far, maybe MARTA should shut down and start from scratch. But then, what would Lorraine Samples do?
Samples, 70, lives near me in South DeKalb. Her husband of 51 years used to drive her most places, but he died last year of lung cancer. Now she rides MARTA almost everywhere. Wednesday, she was on her way to the beauty parlor on Buford Highway where she’s been a customer for 20 years.
The trip takes so long she literally has to pack a lunch. But it’s no picnic. Tiny and stooped, she walks 2.3 miles from her home to the nearest MARTA bus stop with her belongings strapped to a rickety luggage carrier.
Sometimes the bus comes on time. Sometimes it doesn’t. She doesn’t complain, though. “It would cost me $10 to catch a cab. But I’m on a fixed income. I can’t afford that and I don’t want to be stuck at home.” A monthly MARTA pass costs her $52.50.
It takes about a half-hour for Samples to reach the Indian Creek train station by bus. From there, she catches a westbound train to Five Points and then a northbound train to Doraville. After a mile hike to the beauty parlor, she will have traveled for nearly three hours – one way.
Samples was the only white person on the bus this morning. But she says that doesn’t bother her, and despite some of the MARTA horror stories you’ve posted, she’s never had a problem with other passengers. “It’s the way I was raised, I guess. When I was growing up in Cherokee County, my father always taught me that everybody is God’s creation.”
Amen to that. But why in God’s name can’t we create a transportation system that does a better job of serving people like Samples who can’t or don’t drive?
Any ideas?
Permalink | Comments (8) | Categories: Lyle V. Harris
MARTA’s service is good, but too much baggage
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
MARTA’s growth potential is toast. That’s objective. I’ve no problems with MARTA or its train service. Train service is, in fact, far superior to my prior experience of three or four years ago.
From the Holmes station on the West line, the ride to Five Points was fast and comfortable. Cars are beginning to show signs of age. But the interiors are clean. Driver communication is clear and ample. OK, the guy standing five feet away with the music blaring from dangling headphones was annoying. But not intentionally. It is the rudeness of the unschooled too common now in public places.
But, as MARTA speeds along, look out the window at what’s not there on the east or west line. Development. Density. The population of potential riders to justify the investment in a fixed rail system. After 30 years or so, it should have come. It hasn’t. Now it’s never been more unlikely that it will.
Why? Two reasons. One is that Atlanta is a city of neighborhood politics. Developers can buy them off, but they can’t beat them. But even when they have the financial resources to buy them off, there’s reason number two: eminent domain. Congress and the General Assembly will pass laws within the year making it more difficult for government to take private property and transfer it to developers.
So MARTA can continue to take land, but can’t necessarily generate development. No development. No density. No financial justification.
The deeper problem with expansion, though, is race politics. “Economic justice.” “Social justice.” All the agendas piled on. MARTA can’t be just a market-driven transportation system. And until it can, there’ll be no demand for its services outside Fulton and DeKalb.
Permalink | Comments (23) | Categories: Jim Wooten
The bottom line on mass transit
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
I’m now convinced the hardest part of riding mass transit (other than rushing to make the last bus of the evening to east Cobb) are the seats. Seriously. Marta train seats are hardly comfortable, but the ones on the Cobb Community Transit buses I’ve been riding are killers. By the time the bus pulls into the Dunwoody Marta station, everyone should be glad to get off. Maybe the bus and train seats are designed to discourage passengers from becoming too comfortable. Maybe I’ll try a stadium cushion.
Permalink | Comments (3) | Categories: David McNaughton
Pipe down already!
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Even having the most hassle-free commute you could ask for — which, in Atlanta, is kinda like having the most comfortable seat on the old Scream Machine at Six Flags — is not without its jarring moments.
Take my ride home Monday evening: Too tired for diversions, I settled back and began to nap about the time the Gwinnett bus lumbered onto the interstate. What seemed like a second later, a loud shriek — OH, MY GOD!!! — jerked me upright and wide awake.
This is it, I thought: After four years, I’m about to be in a bus wreck. I had visions of going through life (if I survived) with KCAM stamped on my forehead (that’s MACK backward, as in the truck). “MY GOD, THAT’S SO EXCITING — I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!” some clown shouted into his cellphone, as oblivious to his surroundings as I had been when I was blissfully unconscious.
When I quit shaking and gasping for breath, I was furious.
“I’m excited, too,” I yelled. “Now that I’m … A W A K E”
Everybody laughed. I felt better. But I couldn’t get back to sleep.
Permalink | | Categories: Larry Wilkerson
The crow can’t get there from here
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Plotting out my 20-mile commute set me to thinking of Billy in “The Family Circus.” His mom sends him on an errand, and the cartoon traces Billy’s steps with a dotted line that covers most of the panel before he’s finished.
That’s how I envisioned my trip downtown from the Stone Mountain area of Gwinnett, near U.S. 78. “Can’t get there from here” definitely applies. It’s as the crow flies, but only if the crow has avian flu.
Gwinnett County Transit does me no good, unless I want to leave home at 7:15 a.m. and drive to the Indian Trail Road pickup by 8 a.m. But I don’t. Too early.
So I left home at 9:50 a.m. Monday and drove the 12 miles to MARTA’s Avondale station in 20 minutes. Copy editors by nature are anal-retentive, so I worried all the way about finding a parking space for my aging sedan (no, intowners, it’s not an SUV). But there was plenty of room.
The MARTA trip itself was pretty uneventful and not unpleasant. It ended up taking me about 55 minutes from my house to my desk at the AJC, probably 15 minutes more than if I’d driven all the way. And the amount I saved on gas (I estimated that at $1.60) was more than offset by the $3.50 round-trip fare for one day.
My MARTA trip home Monday and trip in Tuesday went just as smoothly. I followed the other passengers’ lead and treated the train as a horizontal elevator, making sure to avoid eye contact.
All in all, I found two positives from my MARTA experience: I cleaned most of the quarters out of my change cup, and I was able to listen to my Brad Paisley country CD. The aforesaid aging sedan lacks a CD player, and my sons quickly object when I try to listen to country music at home.
Posted Tuesday night, based on Monday’s and Tuesday’s commutes.)
Permalink | Comments (2) | Categories: Kevin Braun
But make no eye contact!
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
My Friend, can you see your carriage has rendered you a fool? Come, lay down your keys and I will share the subterranean awes of MARTA.
Ah, my poor Driver! You seem cold to the pleasure of waiting 40 minutes for your train. Why, these stolen moments are a gift! Compose a poem. Ruminate. Recall your grandparents’ faces. Can your books on tape truly compete?
And why do you recoil from the sensory delights of our public rail? Hark - a cavernous wind picks up! Our column arrives on the cry of a banshee! See how many doors open to us? A shame we cannot explore them all!
And now, our journey begins! We are moving while standing! We are a living appendage of the public corpus! But make no eye contact!
Alas, our destination has come too soon. Our only obstacles now are the vulgar herds of wheeled beasts manned by your own people. We may be menaced by their reckless steerage, but remember this: they are to be pitied.
So come, my Friend. Join me in one last act. Let us shake our fists and shout into their rearview mirrors:
“I am the Future! I am a Pedestrian! And YOU must yield to ME!”
Permalink | Comments (1) | Categories: Pete Corson
Regular Guys are radioactive
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Since my husband, Bo Emerson, also works at the paper, my daily carpool starts in my driveway.
There are drawbacks - most notably Bo’s attachment to the Regular Guys, the arrested adolescents who host the morning drive show on at 96rock. (Remember the pasty-faced goons who sat behind you in algebra and flicked boogers at their friends across the aisle? Well, now, they’re on the radio.)
Anyway, today they degenerated into a spoof about killing puppies and that’s when I exercised my veto power. We switched to talk radio on WSB. Bo has the same power; he exercises his whenever Neal Boortz says the words “fair tax.”
I think carpooling helps the environment; I’m just not sure it enhances relationships.
Permalink | Comments (4) | Categories: Maureen Downey
How we travel and who we are
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Transportation, especially in this town, is about a hell of a lot more than simply getting from point A to point B. It’s also about race and class, though not necessarily in that order.
In just two days since I stopped driving in from South DeKalb, I’ve seen clearly that people with fewer transportation choices (meaning they don’t own a car) are second-class citizens in a world-class town.
There are few sidewalks in my neighborhood, MARTA’s schedules are more guesswork than clockwork, and the lack of police on buses and trains encourages crude behavior, especially among young and often black riders who act like they don’t have much home training. (For the record, I’m black, not that it should matter.)
I grew up in New York, where, when it came to getting around, it didn’t matter where you lived or how much you made or the color of your skin. Mass transit was not only a fact of life, but a point of pride. It wasn’t perfect, but it was much more like a democracy. Atlanta is clearly an auto-cracy – the car is king.
This isn’t a debate about which city’s transportation is better. But what I’ve seen in the last couple of days speaks volumes about what our priorities are.
Note at 5:30 p.m. Folks: As of 4:45, we removed some remarks from this blog that we deemed overtly racist and temporarily closed the commenting function. It is now open again.
Please note that Lyle Harris did not censor his blog, as some people have (understandably) suggested. Those decisions were made by me, Richard Halicks, the editor supervising the Commutants experiment. I’m sorry to those who believe that I shut them out unfairly. My aim was not to halt the conversation but to try to improve the tone of it. Literally scores of you have made thoughtful comments that contribute to the discussion. Thanks for that.
Permalink | Comments (264) | Categories: Lyle V. Harris
The (auto) body politic
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
   |
Today’s inbound commute was a breeze — from Peachtree City to the East Point MARTA station and on into work. Only 25 minutes longer than the usual drive.
But on this Election Day morning, I was struck not by the mutation of my own commute but by the spectacle of three of our mayoral candidates doing their last-minute campaigning alongside Georgia 74. (That’s the fast and busy four-lane that leads from PTC to I-85.)
This is politics in a commuter city: You don’t campaign door to door anymore. Instead, you stake out a spot on the approach to the interstate and wave like a madman at all those voters streaming out of town. Not sure that gets you any votes, but then again, I found myself wondering where the two other candidates for mayor were. Do these three want it more because they’re ingesting pure exhaust while waving at a blur of SUVs blowing by at 70 mph?
Guess we’ll find out tonight!
I’ll have mine easy over, please
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Day Two of the Grand Tour (Cobb to downtown Atlanta by bus and Marta train) was a little smoother (you can translate that as faster). The tightwad in me is also coming along: For $3 a day, roundtrip, I couldn’t buy gas, let alone pay for parking. Now, if I can convince Cobb Community Transit to offer fresh bagels, coffee and a pillow to rest my head on, I’l have it made. Oh, and would you tune into NPR for me?
Lost in South Fulton
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Actually, it might be more accurate to say I ONCE was lost in south Fulton, but now I’m found; was blind, but now I see … Because taking mass transit was not nearly as bad as I’d expected it to be.
I live in unincorporated south Fulton County, and I’m not within walking distance of the bus or the train, so I had to use my car to get started. I left the house at 11:55 a.m. and drove 9 miles to Camp Creek Marketplace, where I parked in the Lowe’s lot, trotted across the street and caught the No. 82 bus, which arrived right on time at 12:20 p.m. Fifteen minutes later, I was at College Park MARTA station, waiting for a Northbound train, which pulled in a 12:38. By about 12:50, I was walking toward the escalators at Five Points!!
My 20-mile drive to work normally takes 30 minutes; my MARTA commute took nearly twice as long. But it sure was relaxing. (I have a feeling, though, that this morning’s experience was not the norm. Everything was just a bit too perfect. Even the weather was unreal.)
Here’s another indication that my charmed experience may be misleading: I was touched by a dose-of-reality conversation I had at the bus stop with a young woman who — like me — was a first-timer aboard a MARTA bus. Tomeka Lee, 29, is from Memphis, and she’s looking for work — a task made all the more difficult because she doesn’t have a car. (It’s in Memphis) For a while, she stayed with a sister in Alpharetta, where, she said, “if you don’t have a car, you can’t even get to the train station.” She said one day she spent $42 in cab fare just to go to the bank and take care of other errands.
“In Memphis, they have bus routes even in the expensive neighborhoods,” Tomeka said. “That’s what I don’t understand about here. It’s not fair. Not everyone can afford a car, and what about people with health problems who can’t drive?”
Her priority now? “To find a job and make enough money to go back to Memphis to get my car, because this [relying on MARTA]is not going to work.”
(Posted this morning based on Monday’s commute.)
Permalink | Comments (8) | Categories: Michelle Miller
On the road again, and again, and again
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
The CCT Express from downtown Atlanta back to Marietta is almost worth it. The one-way fare is $3. I got the 101 bus at Five Points right on time, around 5:50 p.m., and we were on I-75 northbound by 6:15 p.m. (Strange, the bus enters the highway on the far right lane and has to cut across four lanes to get to the HOV lane.)
Traffic on 75 is light. We arrive at the Marietta Transfer Center at 6:35 p.m. — almost exactly on schedule. My son, who must have been feeling guilty for driving past me this morning while I was waiting for the CCT bus on the way in, calls on the cell just as the bus is pulling into the transfer center. He picks me up there and we are home by about 6:50, about 70 minutes after I left the office on the commute home. (Had I stayed with CCT the rest of the way home, and walked the last 1.6 miles to my house, that would have added at least another 40 minutes or so.)
Bottom line for the day: $4.25 in fares; 3 hours and 30 minutes in commuting time (counting walking, waiting, buses and trains.) It’s 20 miles from my door to the newspaper, which happens to be about the same number of miles per gallon I get on my small SUV. I can drive it in about 35 minutes one way. At $2.50 cents a gallon that amounts to about $5 a day in gas costs for just the commute. (Not counting when I carpool.) You do the math: $4.15 for a 3.5-hour round-trip commute using public transit, or $5 for a 70-minute round-trip in the car.
Not even close. A better alternative is working closer to home. We’ll look into that later in the week.
(Posted Monday night after Monday’s commute.)
Permalink | Comments (5) | Categories: Mike King
Maybe I should just walk (from Marietta)
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
One hour into my 20-mile morning commute and I was still less than four miles from home, waiting on the No. 10 CCT bus at the Marietta transfer station. I figured it would take at least a couple of hours walking and taking my public transit options from west Marietta to the downtown newspaper office at Five Points. It took 2 hours and 20 minutes. (I’ve made the same trip by car for the past 18 years in an average of 35 minutes, usually riding with a fellow AJC mployee.)
Thank God for my iPod. About the best thing I can say for this morning’s experience was that it only cost $1.25, the standard Cobb Community Transit fare.
The trip involved walking to a bus stop about 1.7 miles from where I live (actually a neighbor picked me up halfway there), catching the No. 15 CCT bus to the Marietta transfer station and then taking the No. 10 local bus from there, down U.S. 41, stopping at the Cumberland Mall transfer station, getting back on 41, getting on I-75 into Midtown and then catching a MARTA train from the Arts Center station to take me to Five Points. The longest wait was 20 minutes for the first CCT bus and 15 minutes for the MARTA train. Otherwise the ride was uneventful, but way too long to be a realistic commuting alternative.
I’m going to try a CCT Express bus from downtown back to Marietta this evening. The CCT Web site says the trip usually takes only 35 minutes and will drop me off at the Marietta transfer station. If this morning’s commute is typical, I’ll only be an hour away from home when I get there.
(Posted Monday night after Monday’s commute.)
Permalink | | Categories: Mike King
Beats paying for gasoline
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Unlike my colleagues in the editorial department, I don’t find getting to work (or back home) much of a hassle.
It typically goes like this: After a 12- to 15-minute drive from my home to the park’n’ride lot at Ga. 20 and I-985 in Buford, I board the Gwinnett Transit 101 bus for downtown at 7:45 (sometimes earlier, sometimes later — they start at 5:45 and run every 15 minutes through 8 o’clock).
For the next 45 minutes to an hour, I chat with a seatmate, read, work a crossword or nap. I get off on West Peachtree and walk down Broad to Marietta, then a couple of more blocks to the office. I get in before 9.
The trip costs me a little bit more than a gallon of premium. It’s the only way to go.
(Posted Monday night after Monday’s commute.)
Permalink | Comments (1) | Categories: Larry Wilkerson
Lost on the way to work: sleep
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
This getting-to-work-some-other-way-than-usual is enough to make a grown man cry. I got up an hour early and arrived at work five minutes later than usual. It’s like a three-step process: Get to the park-and-ride. Take Cobb County Transit (All of 10 other passengers were aboard; I could have packed that many people into the back of my pickup and taken the quick route to work down I-75.) Switch to Marta. In the good old days I just had to get behind the wheel and crank the key. I can’t wait for the trip home.
Commutin’ with Wooten: No NPR, please
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
A kind-hearted liberal, a co-worker who ordinarily drives solo. gave me a lift today. Her schedule puts her here later, meaning that I missed the morning editorial board meeting. “Is that serious?” she asked. “If I don’t go, I don’t know what liberals are thinking,” says I. “You can just ask me,” she reassured.
She’s not current, though. Because I was carpooling with her, she couldn’t get her morning briefing. When alone, she listens to NPR, national pinko radio. Of course, I couldn’t listen to Laura Ingraham. We didn’t listen to anything. That wasn’t the worst part. She smokes; a cigarette enroute to work is a ritual. But didn’t because of me. She talks on the cell phone, too. But didn’t because of me. Plans her day in the quiet of the car. But didn’t. We talked. She’ll be real jumpy today.
Cars are cocoons. The quiet between noisy places where people make demands on you. I’ll give it up, I suspect, when my ignition keys are pried from my cold, dead hands.
Permalink | Comments (17) | Categories: Jim Wooten
mike luckovich takes train
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
i took MARTA today because my editor said i had to.
i think MARTA stands for Miss Auto Ride To Ajc.
i live in sandy springs, so my wife dropped me off at the perimeter marta station. it’s about seven miles from our house, so it’s not like a lot of gas is being saved by driving to the station versus driving in to work.
i had planned on reading the paper on the way in, but this guy a few seats in front of me, began talking nonstop to some poor lady about his medications, collection agencies that are after him and his approach to getting chicks, that it became very amusing watching this woman forced to nod and pay attention as he babbled the entire ride.
the train took only a couple minutes to arrive after i’d gotten there and only about 20 minutes to drop me at the five points station. if i lived closer to the perimeter station, it would make a lot of sense for me to take marta.
MARTA is dead to me, Part Deux
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
 This is public art at East Point. I am edified and entertained. |
Usual drill at College Park. (No college, no parking.) On to East Point. This time all three token machines keep puking up my five. The ten in my pocket was for lunch; now my ten is five tokens and five quarters.
Two inbound trains arrive and depart while I’m futzing with the machines. (I know, I know: Get a TransCard.) I see the taillights of the second as I walk down the steps. So I have a minute to view and appreciate the station decoration (above), which nobody ever seems to do.
More cell phone chatter from my fellow riders as I climb aboard. Thanks for sharing your lives with me. We go to Fort McPherson; I wonder what it will be called when they close the fort and how much it will cost taxpayers to redo the signs. Up the line toward town: Have you noticed that West End is east of East Point?
Total trip time: One hour 15 minutes, compared with the usual 45. Is MARTA worth an extra half-hour?
Permalink | Comments (5) | Categories: Richard Halicks
A hair-straightening experience
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Cranky about my walk to work this morning. This takes way more organizational skills than I can muster.
I made a trip to my office (by car) last night to haul in all my stuff — 1.5 liter bottle of water, gym bag, pkg for UPS, dress shoes, etc — and I still forgot my ID badge this morning. And how am I going to get to the gym, anyway? Walk? How am I going to get home in the dark?
By the way, with the high humidity, I didn’t have a single curl left in my hair by the time I got to my desk, doggone it! Do I need to haul my hot curlers to the office, too?
Permalink | Comments (24) | Categories: Cynthia Tucker
The shoe-leather commute
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
I walked out the front door at 8:40 a.m., headed due west on Edgewood, and reached my desk at 9:20. That includes a stop for coffee at Javaology. It’s a great place, but it doesn’t have parking. That’s why I hadn’t stopped before.
It was a mostly pleasant stroll, great weather, sunny and temp in the ‘60s — only two flirtatious come-ons and one panhandler. It’s amazing the things you notice when you’re walking, like the Sisters of the Nile Moorish Barber Shop and Hair Salon. (When I want a Moorish hair cut, I’ll check them out.)
If I keep this up all week, maybe I will have burned off enough calories to allow myself my favorite indulgence — Ben and Jerry’s Peanut Butter Cup.
(Posted Sunday night, based on last Friday’s shoe-leather commute.)
Permalink | Comments (45) | Categories: Cynthia Tucker
MARTA is dead to me
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
I get off of I-85 north and go to the College Park station. There’s no college and no parking. I drive up Main Street to East Point and find a space that only seems to be miles from the turnstiles. The token machines won’t accept my five, which is so crisp that I might have made it in the basement this morning. I miss an inbound train while the machines swallow and then regurgitate my five. Damn.
On board, I just want to read the paper but five people are talking simultaneously on their cells. Well. Four. One guy just laughs into his phone for five straight minutes. It isn’t unpleasant, just kind of weird. I find myself speculating about who’s on the other end. Maybe nobody. Maybe Robin Williams.The five voices eventually weave into one low buzz, and I tune it out, dropping back into the morning paper.
I’m reading for 10 seconds before the woman directly behind me begins to hum. I fold the paper again, thinking I’m pretty sure I’m in a hum-free zone. But I realize: This woman can really hum. She is the Hummer of hummers. I don’t know the tune, but I am sorry when, at the next station, she gets off and takes her song with her.
(Posted Sunday night, based on last Friday’s commute.)
Permalink | Comments (6) | Categories: Richard Halicks
MARTA is my life
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
He is mute but still preaches on the MARTA rail platform, wearing Army fatigues and waving a Bible over his head. He makes only sounds, not words, but we all get the point.
And there is the elderly woman who wears sandwich board signs about Jesus and the scriptures. She is constantly on the lookout for teenage girls on the train using foul language or being inappropriately dressed. She unleashes a harsh sermon. Sometimes they are foolish enough to argue back, but never once have I seen anyone get the best of this passionate preacher.
And there is the tube-sock salesman who accepts cash, checks or even food stamps. Sometimes there are men selling boot-legged first-run movies. And I have even seen impromptu gambling where you can plop down a little money on a quick card game between stops.
This is the richness of MARTA, which I have taken to work safely for 18 years or so, reading hundreds of books on the way while glancing up to enjoy the real-life characters of the trains who shield me from the blandness of highways and the blather of talk radio.
Permalink | Comments (22) | Categories: David Beasley
.JPG)
-1.JPG)
Services »
