bus tix 005
the vintage line is a REAL tangible vehicle, hayao miyazaki meets late senator james r. mill, and the personal is political.
For a while, I had no idea what I was going to write about other than the Vintage Line. But as September unveiled itself as mythological god that transformed my self-esteem into a horrendous monster corroding my perceptions of reality, I withdrew and quietly daydreamed into this project. I end September with unusual parallels and a hope for a beautiful October.
the vintage line IS REAL!
On Labor Day, I rode the Silver Line, the mysterious Vintage Line that did not run for two of its ten scheduled holidays. Literally, 20% of its rides were canceled. I managed to take a bus down to 12th & Imperial to be asked if I wanted a reusable grocery bag full of women’s clothes by a slightly charming and handsome man. A man also mumbled I was beautiful. Nothing bewilders me more than transit stations.
I wore a dress and tied a ribbon in my hair for the Silver Line occasion, so I guess, it makes sense. However, detailed confessions remain in Instagram’s Close Friends List so that’s all you’re getting out of me.
As usual, I had no idea where I was going at 12th & Imperial (you can ask me about Old Town, City College, Civic Center, Nobel Drive, or Morena, and I would know where to go, immediately). I initially missed the bus stop for the Vintage Trolley because I didn’t know where it was. This is why I have to give myself an extra 10 minutes to situate where I’m at. I eventually found it after running around the narrow station in chipped purple heels.
If it wasn’t for the obviously older looking trolley, I probably would have missed it. The stop was full with a family, a group of friendly men, and a random passenger. Oh, and me, obviously.
The ride is a 30-minute Downtown Loop passing through the more vacation-esque trolley stops: Gaslamp Quarter, Seaport Village, and Park & Market to name a few. There were several people who got on without realizing it was Vintage Line, and the group of friendly guys would inform others where to get off just in case. You just gotta love when you can eavesdrop on kindness.
I have no good transition, but, these seats! ARE SO COMFY! We need these seats back. Two seaters facing each other for the most part which forces people into conversations. I love that idea. We need to enforce socialization, implicitly, of course. And because of this, I was bummed I did not bring Theodore, the stuffed bear who also goes on adventures, to experience the Vintage Line. Since the Vintage Line is running again on Halloween weekend, we might have to.
Just like the modern trolley, the Silver Line had your usual characters, people who were riding the trolley for work, families who were on vacation, and the occasional odd character who appeared to be houseless. One of the trolley operators probably buzzed in an officer for this one because three stops later, there was transit security on the trolley. Like most cases, this guy was going make people uncomfortable. It didn’t mean he was going to cause trouble, but any social deviance raises alarm. Yikes. When I got off, the officer also got off and complimented my camera, which I can appreciate, but it doesn’t change my opinion about police.
It’s a cute little downtown adventure, and I’d recommend riding with your cutest outfit that makes you feel like you’re going to explore the world as a main character. Because while this trip is like any other trolley trip, it has a charm that makes you feel like you’re about to start a lifechanging journey. My journey just happened to look like wholesome romance with a female lead who write letters to friends about the mishaps in finding comfort in a quaint life abroad.
ambiguity for the future
In honor of the upcoming 20th anniversary of Howl’s Moving Castle, I spent a few days reading Hayao Miyazaki Catalogue, the companion book to the inaugural exhibit for the Academy Museum of Motion Pictures. And while there aren’t as many takeaways in this book compared to Turning Point: 1997-2008, I’m always impressed by his abilities in blending reality and fantasy. Miyazaki never ignores the current social context surrounding his films, instead, he embeds them in the magic. His work never waters down issues for children watching, and they, honestly, continue to stump me as he approaches nuance and understanding with every movie. Each choice is never fully good or evil resulting in an ambiguous ending. The audience must imagine what will happen past the screen.
There are parallels in the archival articles I read, particularly with Senator James R. Mills, who was the pivotal reason for the San Diego Trolley. You can expect at least five mentions of Mills whenever San Diego public transportation is discussed in 97% of the the folders. In the yellowed newsprint, I read his comments with fervor and passion. But I always return to his comments about the resistance and opposition towards a public transit system. He always encouraged public transit but knew that for a public transportation system to work meant a complete reversal of attitudes and mindsets.
I had to restrain myself as I approached early 80s transit surveys calling surveyors without cars captives because they had no other options for commuting. I had to bite my tongue as I read new transit plans were heavily influenced by passengers who had other modes of transportation and how plans would entice them to use public transit over their private automobiles.
Apparently, when you’re forced to take public transit, your thoughts and opinions don’t really matter. You have to make do with the limited choices you have. Jokingly, I’ll tell my fellow no-car-but-relies-on-public-transportation friend, “Can’t poor people have nice things too?”
Scraps is all we get I guess because inequity is necessary to keep a society running!!!!
Which is highlighted from recent events. On September 15th, NYPD shot into a crowded subway station injuring four people, two of them being innocent bystanders, and one of them was taken to the hospital in critical condition after being shot in the head for fare evasion. The fare is $2.90.
A person’s life was worth $2.90 according to New York Police. I understand if you overlooked this incident with the endless amount of injustices happening indefinitely to be infuriated about and keep pressure on. I return to this event two weeks later because it is, as the youth would say, my hyperfixation for the month. The personal is political, and my interest in public transportation revolves around these systemic issues.
In some form of superiority, a person deserves to die for jumping over pieces of metal. I’ve seen police officers beat the shit out of a man for stealing scratch cards from a 7/11. I’ve seen them completely miss textbook situations of harassment. Sadly, it was a matter of time that someone got killed for trying to ride public transit. That doesn’t mean I’m apathetic to the matter. Should my worth be defined by my ability to pay for a bus ticket? Am I less human because I am trying to get one place to another place that I can’t get to by feet and can’t afford a ticket? What is the takeaway if I am beaten up for trying to leave poverty?
After weeks of archival digging, years of being told to be careful on the bus, and a lifetime of being forced to listen to discussion about why public transit sucks, I come back to these moments where these questions are at the forefront of my brain.
My worth shouldn’t be equal to my finances. My ability to commute relies heavily on my legs and a bus card. I’m a captive because I cannot afford anything else. I’ve been shown time and time again that I am lesser because I take the bus. I’ve been dispositioned to be embarrassed that I don’t have a car, and I have to overcome the residual effects of that every time I ask for a ride with someone who does. I shouldn’t have to explain or state my credentials to be taken seriously or be seen as human because I don’t own a car.
This may seem like an oversimplification, and reader, you might think that can’t be possible, but I want to ask you when the last time you took the bus was, and why you did that. What did you sacrifice to take the bus? Now, imagine if you had no other option. That reason doesn’t matter anymore. You don’t have the luxury to choose.
So I return here, thinking about Miyazaki and Mills, and how they both understand there is a joy in imagining a future, in believing what others think is fantasy. That both bad and good carries a beautiful yet ambiguous future. I am not naive despite my constant romanticization of life. I know both truths can ring true: police officers can be abhorrent and use power morbidly, and officers can use their power appropriately like when a woman on the trolley to Old Town starts punching any man she sees. However, the narrative around public transit seems to be about the poor people who ride it, how inconvenient public transportation is, the urine smells, and the druggies, houseless, and uncleanliness.
Until these assumptions change, I will keep imagining a future where public transit isn’t an indicator of worth. I will keep thinking of a lifetime where truly, “the only real answer is a safe, convenient public transit system.” Because the thesis of this project has always been a dream of what buses, trollies, and cable cars can be: a liminal space of community that holds its own beauty.