Metro

I have ridden the DC Metro, the Boston Metro and the Chicago Metro. My metropolitan travel diary is quite a swift read. I drive most places, Metro when I have to. Consider this...I set foot on a Metro station. Pick one, any one. I have a destination in mind. Out of some urgent or leisurely need, I will head to Some Place. I get on the Purple line and find my seat. There are people on board - it's the Metro. Usually they mind their own business. I do too, because of auditory and optic reflexes (that I am learning in Anatomy and Physiology) I turn when there is an unexpected sound or movement. It is always nothing, but I do anyway. I quickly turn my attention back to my book. I am driven to my destination.

I have heard it said, "If you do not make a decision, one will be made for you." We choose a path to follow in life and each stage is a different Metro line; different train, people, speed, challenges, joys...name it. The connecting thought is that I am being driven to my destination, the one I chose, yet there is a dash of chance. Where I get off and what I get onto thereafter will all factor into whether or not (and when) I get to Some Place or I end up at Some Other Place.

I have made about three or four transfers this year alone, the last one was about three weeks ago and I do not have a handle on things yet. There is some cumulative effect in there, it's still taking a while it seems. Granted, I do not know how long it usually takes me. It feels so urgent because, well it is the end of the year, end of the semester and all that.

I have a Metro Pass for my trip, we all do, with a set spending limit. We have some input to where we go and how we get there, but we can only do it in so many dollars and cents. If one takes too many side trips, the limit comes and you are not where you ought to be. You can only hope it is a place you can sit well until we settle accounts. "Have I thus chosen the most expedient route?" is ever a pressing question for me. With the breath and time afforded me, will I arrive where I need to be in a goodly state? Will I get there and be called up, to be told, "Well done, good and faithful servant. Well done!" for that is what (I think) I want for the end.

What do I want for now? Oh boy...have I chosen the best route to get to Good, Faithful Servant? Will I make it? Can I make it? I have picked up a wife, cats, hobbies, classes, work and all this blah blah, can I still make it? Is there room for all of it in my limited budget or am I squandering? Am I doing OK now? How about now?

I love getting off the Metro. Then I can walk again. The same questions rattle my mind. So what's the difference? I don't know exactly. I like to walk though. Always in a blinding hurry, but I like to walk. More than that I enjoy arriving at my destination and lastly, mostly I love getting home. They say the journey is not in the arriving. I care more for getting there than looking at the faces and the buildings in between tunnels. I just want to get there and be done with it. Maybe that is why I walk so fast, to get there sooner.

The Dreams

I hope one day to transcribe one of my recurrent college dreams. It was astonishingly clear, I remember its detail to this day. Once in a while I have 'fight dreams.' Usually in periods of stress. I had not had one for a long while, but, they are back.

I was with a female companion. Only once have I been able to identify her. Other times it has been as if several women I know are sharing a body. We are walking somewhere and for some reason someone thinks it would be cool to attack me. It is never her, she is just in their way. And she is expendable. Hereafter, this night I deviated from the norm.

I grabbed her hand and we ran. Over benches and trash cans, half walls and curbs, we ran for dear life. The city was quite empty, or people moved out of the way fast. We ran for a long time, trying to lose our pursuers. We never gained on them, they never gained on us. We were bound to run until death. Whose would be first? They look in better shape for this than she is, but what pip-squeak picks a fight with a stranger anyway? She starts to tire, I can feel her lagging more and more. This is it. Again.

We stop running, find her a place to hide and catch her breath. I will soon have them well distracted, at that point she could very well walk off into her sunset and they would not notice. They are here for me. As long as she is safe, I am not too bothered. Here we are again. They come around, all four, maybe five of them snickering like the hyenas in The Lion King. So predictable, if I could speak I would tell them to find a new style. To what end? This is not a time for words.

It is always the big ones who attack first, if they all ran this far surely the rest want to fight too. So if the big one attacks and he kills me, were is the sport for the others? The smaller giants should pounce first, that increases the chances of everyone getting a share. If I am losing they can tag each other in. If I am winning, I will tag them in! Sorry, yeah the big one, he is coming alright. Screaming like an idiot...

It is just a dream. I am up, sweaty, hot, but up. My wife is peacefully asleep. Too bad. I do feel like a fight. These days they don't come back after I have woken up. Itching for a fight here --- oh well, maybe another night.