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eglinton and jane

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

Part of my long daily commute is a stretch of Eglinton St to the east of Jane St that passes in and out of a meandering valley. This is the first green space that you pass through on Eglinton west of Yonge, and its a long haul to that part. This morning this pleasant stretch was more than its usual quiet breathing space, because the trees had been frosted over and were all white and aglow in the morning sun. With the sun just coming up, it was a really amazing site.

This was lost on the person behind me, who was one of those obsessive/compulsive types who always seem to park themselves behind you. She was doing something that caused bits of her jacket to rub together in a constant "shuff shuff shuff" way, loudly enough that she distracted people on the other side of the bus. Needless to say, I didn't turn to investigate.

I reacted similarly yesterday when the obsessive/compulsive sitting behind me sporadically went on two-minute binges of chattering his teeth, "chic-chic-chic-chic-chic-chic-chic!"

Despite the occasional O/C types and the breakdowns (we had to load up midway to accomodate the refugees from another bus that stopped working) I like the bus when the weather is good. I get a lot of writing done in my mornings these days, and it beats the stop and go of driving while flicking restlessly (and relentlessly, in my own compulsive manner) from one crappy radio station to another.