Gridlock vs. Hell on the El

Not only is our transit system broken, our roads have gone from bad to worse. Check out my rant (and artsy photo) at the Chicago Moms Blog.

A crazy morning on the El

I board the Blue Line at Oak Park, which means that just north of the platform there are six lanes of expressway traffic whizzing by, three in each direction.

This morning a teal colored Dodge Neon pulled onto the left shoulder of the westbound traffic. A young olive-skinned man in an American flag t-shirt, shorts and a black cap with flaps hopped out of the passenger side and bounded over the fence separating the westbound lanes from the eastbound lanes. Then he dodged cars and trucks headed into the city and scaled the fence between the expressway and the El tracks. Hopping over the tracks, he hoisted himself up onto the platform, jumped onto a series of benches and took off his shirt (he had another one on underneath). He waved his t-shirt triumphantly for a minute as a train pulled into the station.

Then he retraced his steps, jumping off the CTA platform, skipping over the third rail, scaling fences and dodging cars before getting back into the passenger seat. At which point his female driving companion pulled back into traffic, giggling.

Was it a dare? Did he just feel like doing some crazy sh*t at 8 o'clock in the morning? I have no idea. And the conductor of the westbound El train who witnessed most of his antics? He didn't give a damn.

Oh no you didn't

Two young mothers boarded the El this morning with five children between them. The oldest kid was about 8, the youngest, 1. The boys were obviously excited and a little rambunctious, but I was completely unprepared for the way one mother reacted when her son stood up briefly. Her loud string of invectives was so vile, so profane and so shockingly hurtful, you could feel the whole train tense up. It involved four letter words up to and including the big F and promised a beating should the kid dare not obey.

The fifty-something woman in front of her turned around with a disapproving, "Now hush," which I think was more than appropriate, but I was left shaking. I suspected from the family members' ages and clothes--as well as the fact that they boarded the train on Chicago's West Side--that they were likely not well off, but living in poverty has got to pale in comparison to living with a hair-trigger temper like that. My heart goes out to those kids.