{"id":2424,"date":"2016-10-19T15:23:12","date_gmt":"2016-10-19T20:23:12","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/?p=2424"},"modified":"2016-10-26T15:06:22","modified_gmt":"2016-10-26T20:06:22","slug":"in-transit-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/2016\/10\/in-transit-2\/","title":{"rendered":"In Transit"},"content":{"rendered":"

 <\/p>\n

\""El"<\/a><\/p>\n

Let\u2019s see \u2013 for 10 years I commuted on buses, subways, or trains, at least two hours a day, 5 days a week, 48 weeks a year.\u00a0\u00a0That\u2019s a total of 4800 hours going to and from medical school and then my job as a health policy analyst.\u00a0\u00a0So of course I leapt at the opportunity to \u201cwork from home,\u201d\u00a0\u00a0ready to put my trove of found hours to good use.<\/p>\n

It never occurred to me what I was sacrificing \u2013 my transitional time between work and home life.\u00a0\u00a0Commuting hours were not the idleness of a featureless day, but a segment of time all to myself, anonymous, agenda-less, with a\u00a0built-in beginning and end.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Belatedly I realized that my \u201cfound time\u201d was actually my commute, the perfect guilt-free time to read, imagine and observe.<\/p>\n

The New Yorker magazine was my frequent traveling companion.\u00a0\u00a0Those were the years that I could actually keep up with its weekly schedule.\u00a0\u00a0At home I lost my reading hour to the competing demands of two young children; New Yorkers began to pile up and I regretfully canceled my subscription.\u00a0\u00a0Crosswords puzzles or word games were acceptable options on the commute, but at home they seemed like indulgent guilty pleasures.\u00a0\u00a0Needlework was another favored activity.\u00a0Once I noticed two other knitters in the\u00a0same\u00a0train car.\u00a0\u00a0We raised our needles to each other in silent acknowledgement.\u00a0One fall I managed to complete a cross stitch of an entire Amish farm scene, complete with an itty bitty quilt hanging on the line and a row of apple trees.\u00a0\u00a0The lurching car made those little apples quite a challenge.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"amish-scene\"<\/a><\/p>\n

A crowded subway car was an ideal opportunity to observe and just let my mind drift among the welter of random strangers. The hospital subway line\u00a0often stalled out in the same tunnel.\u00a0\u00a0I could feel the dankness settle in as germ-laden dust motes gently coated my face.\u00a0\u00a0I imagined that I might be trapped for days and wondered which passengers would become an “out-of-my-comfort zone” friend.\u00a0\u00a0Would it be the guy with a gold-plated razor blade necklace, or the stately older woman with bunions bulging through her worn sneakers, or the pregnant woman with her tongue in her boyfriends\u2019 ear?\u00a0\u00a0I also realized that I was no catch.\u00a0\u00a0Often I arrived\u00a0straight from the autopsy suite enveloped in the acrid odor of formaldehyde.<\/p>\n

Sometimes the train would be so packed that only an isolated wedge of a passenger would be visible, like a small swatch of a woman\u2019s plaid purse, an ugly thing with a garish yellow and brown tartan pattern.\u00a0\u00a0I concocted an entire story of a conflicted relationship built around that purse, imagining that the unseen woman hated it, but her husband insisted she carry it since it was a gift from her manipulative mother-in-law, who had probably given her the wretched purse as a loyalty test.\u00a0\u00a0The woman was heading to her in-law\u2019s for dinner and planned to arrive gushing about the purse, but then sadly note that the zipper, which she had jimmied at work, was now broken.\u00a0\u00a0Depending on her mood, she might also announce, \u201cYou know, the zipper is often the first clue that something is a knock-off.\u201d<\/p>\n

Observing the etiquette of commuting, or the lack of it, was another entertaining mind game.\u00a0\u00a0On the crowded subway home, there were no rules, it was every man for himself, pushing, shoving, elbowing.\u00a0\u00a0I was an enthusiastic participant in this competitive sport, ready to weasel myself in the smallest nook available, unafraid to insist that people move to the center of the car, getting physical if necessary.\u00a0\u00a0I still consider it a personal triumph that I never had to wait for the next car.<\/p>\n

In contrast the empty car presented a conundrum of etiquette options.\u00a0\u00a0On the way to work I would occasionally arrive on the subway platform at the same time as casual acquaintances, often neighbors.\u202f Should I sit next to them?\u00a0\u00a0I had no interest in exchanging pleasantries for the hour train ride, particularly with a crossword puzzle, New Yorker or other word game ready already selected, but would it be rude to deliberately sit by myself?\u202f I\u00a0could pretend that I did not see my neighbors or slow up during my walk to the station, or turn my head on the platform, but these\u00a0were potentially insulting artifices.<\/p>\n

My\u00a0preferred\u00a0strategy was to get on the train first and sit down before anyone else.\u00a0\u00a0This placed the onus on the others to decide\u00a0whether or not to snub me.\u202f\u202f\u00a0Once\u00a0I got on the train through the rear door, and panicked when two neighbors got on through the front. We met in the middle; there no time to take the first seat.\u00a0\u00a0They\u00a0must also have been coveting their alone time.\u00a0\u00a0One said,\u00a0“I have a book to read,”\u202fthe other said, “I have some work to do.” Relieved we all took isolated seats.\u202f My uncle once invited me to join him in his private club car.\u202f He handled the situation with the ease of a 50 year plus commuter.\u202f As we sat next to each other the first words\u00a0he said were, “What part of the paper would you like to read?”\u00a0\u00a0Alone together was a successful model for both of us.<\/p>\n

If I took the train home instead of the subway, I could get on early and insure myself a seat, but I knew I would acquire\u00a0a seat mate\u00a0in a couple of stops.\u202f If I chose an empty row, who knows who would sit beside me?\u202f It could be a hacking cougher, a loud talker or someone eating a bag of greasy fries.\u202f Another option was to protect the adjacent seat.\u00a0\u00a0Recently this strategy has acquired the idiom \u201cman-spreading.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Females can also spread their legs, but a more genteel strategy was put my purse on the adjacent seat.\u00a0\u00a0A little dab of water was also an effective deterrent.\u00a0Knitting needles seemed to scare people, but on a crowded train eventually someone was\u00a0going to sit next to me.<\/p>\n

The alternative strategy was to accept the inevitable, take control and plop down next to a pleasant looking person even though empty rows were available.\u00a0\u00a0The psychological impact was interesting to observe; often the seat mate would squirm nervously, wondering if I was a stalker or had some other personality flaw.\u00a0\u00a0Of course, even the most agreeable-looking person could go sour.\u00a0\u00a0Once my seat mate started to brush her hair at the second stop.\u00a0\u00a0I could hear the brush scraping across her scalp.\u00a0\u00a0Soon my pastel skirt was veiled with a smattering of her pubic-style black hair.\u202f\u00a0Then she cut her fingernails which zinged off in different directions.\u00a0\u00a0I saw at least one land on my skirt and I imagined that another ricocheted off my cheek.<\/p>\n

The companion issue\u00a0was\u00a0whether or not it\u00a0was\u00a0in poor taste to move once another seat became available.\u202f I remember snagging the last seat in an overheated subway car using a smooth move akin to a football running back deking out an opponent.\u00a0\u00a0But my smug triumph evaporated as the car thinned out and I realized that my seat mate was appalling.\u202f He was a huge and hairy man overflowing the seat so that our thighs were not just touching at a single point, but all along their length.\u202f He wore a sickly-hued polyester shirt with yellowed armpits.\u202f His nostrils were cavernous with\u00a0tiny drips of sweat dangling from his nose hairs.\u202f And yet somehow I felt that it would be disrespectful\u00a0if I moved\u00a0to a different seat.\u202f Slowly the entire car emptied, and for the last three stops we were the only two people on the train.\u202f But I stayed put, our thighs plastered together,\u00a0trapped by some ridiculous notion of politeness\u00a0to total strangers.<\/p>\n

My favorite experience was the time\u00a0I got on the train at the second stop. \u00a0I knew that I would be lucky to get a seat, and as I stepped into the rear of the car,\u00a0I saw only\u00a0one vacant\u00a0spot at the far end.\u00a0 I was\u00a0immediately filled with misgivings.\u202f There were probably 100 people on this train car and every one had considered and rejected that seat.\u202f What was it about\u00a0the person that scared people off?\u202f\u202f I could only see the backs of heads so I had few clues to go on.\u202f\u00a0That man must be very unpleasant, I thought, maybe an aggressive man-spreader, perhaps poor hygiene or a splayed zipper.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Swallowing hard, I decided to go for it and embrace the thrill of the commute. \u00a0I burst out laughing in a mixture of relief and excitement when I realized the empty\u00a0seat was next to my brother!<\/p>\n

The missing words in the following poem are anagrams (i.e. share the same letters like spot, post, stop) and the number of asterisks indicates the number of letters.\u00a0 One of the missing words will rhyme with either the previous or following line.\u00a0 Your job is to solve the missing words based on the above rules and the context of the poem.\u00a0 Scroll down for answers.\u202f\u202f\u00a0<\/em><\/h4>\n

As I get on the train, I try and find a relaxing and comfortable place to *** .<\/p>\n

Avoiding the snorer, the gabber, the sweater, and the unkempt\u00a0nose picking\u00a0misfit.<\/p>\n

But as I look down the car, I despair and see there no reason to rejoice,<\/p>\n

***\u202f too crowded – there is only one seat left so I really have no choice.<\/p>\n

Who is this person that made everyone reject this seat and seek another,<\/p>\n

So *** very surprising when I find the empty seat is next to my brother!<\/p>\nFollow Liza Blue on: \"Facebook\"<\/a>\"twitter\"<\/a>Share: \"Facebook\"<\/a>\"twitter\"<\/a>\"reddit\"<\/a>\"pinterest\"<\/a>\"linkedin\"<\/a>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  Let\u2019s see \u2013 for 10 years I commuted on buses, subways, or trains, at least two hours a day, 5 days a week, 48 weeks a year.\u00a0\u00a0That\u2019s a total of 4800 hours going to and from medical school and … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[32],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2424","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-such-is-life"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p7iVc8-D6","post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2424","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2424"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2424\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2438,"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2424\/revisions\/2438"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2424"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2424"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2424"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}