Oh my!
It has been far too long since we have updated this little bus hopping blog. So much has happened since our last post, but not many adventures on the bus.
That's what happens when you have newfound access to a car—it really takes the fun out of everything.
Don't worry...we had quite the bus hopping adventure this past Saturday on a journey to Golden Gate Park for the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival. It was only necessary to take one bus to the mystical musical forest, but oh it was a time.
We nearly ended up on the most crowded bus I'd ever witnessed as a bus hopper, but luckily we were able to wait for another 5 bus that would take us across the urban jungle to the forest by the sea.
We were able to find some seats near the front of the bus, but little did we know that everyone was out to go listen to some bluegrass (or just Conor Oberst and some people watching).
As we arrived at each stop the bus became more crowded and it was hard to tell who wasn't in fact going to the festival. There were enough river sandals with socks and hemp to make any member of People's Park satisfied.
Unfortunately, not everyone on the bus was in the best mood and many people had not bus hopped before. The bus driver decided to stop for 10 minutes because a "tourist" was blocking the back door. This minute incident prompted a Sarah Palin-esque 20-something to yell at the tourist in a Jersey Shore manner—quelle horreur! She was definitely on a power trip, but she was no JWoww.
After a long 45 minute ride, we arrived (as we were simply following all the 60-year old men with banjos) and had never been more excited to get off the bus.
The rest of the day was filled with gimlets, cats on backs, cults, celebrity sightings, and a reunion with a long lost friend.
The magic of the day did not subside as I was able to get on the bus back for free. Maybe I got some luck from all that bluegrass love or maybe there was just something in the air.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Yolanda and a Retrospective Look at the Gender Game
For those of you who are as intimately familiar with the AC Transit system as this author (which I expect few of you are, but kudos if I'm wrong; we might have a job for you here at Bus Hoppers), you may be aware that currently we in the fan community are experiencing "service affected by labor unrest." Oh my. Well, no surprise really- apologies abound, but c'mon Oaktown, how predictable can you get?
So I thought I would brighten these dark, dark days with a staycation down memory lane, of course remembering our first and favorite trip on the 1.
Some might call this the godfather of all bus hopper adventures, and the first time we heard this vocation calling our names. From this point forward, movies lost their draw (I mean, why would I pay $13 to watch uncomfortable love unfold in 3-D *cough Avatar cough* when I could pay $0.00 to watch it shake up at a spectacular pace on the Northbound 1R? Oh, but that's an entirely different tale...)
This adventure could have a host of other titles, such as "How we survived the battle of the dueling wheelchairs" or "what kind of vegetable looks gray and smells like garbage?" or perhaps, "The bus ride that answers the question,'Huh?'", but for the time being, let's stick with what we have.
We embarked on that particular dusky evening, brains a little fuzzy from a previous adventure. This was our first cooperative venture on the 1, so of course we were a little giddy. We sat in the 'tea-cup' seats and strapped in for the ride. Our spins were short-lived however, as a wheelchair-bound passenger boarded; we respectfully headed toward the [boring] seats in the back, taking more of an observational than participatory role in the events of that night. Thank god.
Minutes later a second, seemingly wheelchair-bound passenger boarded. This man was, however, very different. You're familiar with Lil'Wayne, no? and giants also? This was two of those in one person. Whoa. (yes, I did just google "lil'wayne as a giant in a wheelchair" to see if I could add a photo clip. No dice. weird). Blingin' hard, chalice in hand, this young gent was full-on abusing the AC Transit ramp system. He had one of those wheelchairs where you just use your finger to move the whole chair. Total pimp status. Basically, two thirds of the bus was taken up by wheel-chairs, space was limited. We all had to get a little closer...you know what that means...
After the novelty of the gangsta-chair had worn off, we searched for other one-act bus plays that were happening. On the other side of us was Yolanda (names have [not actually] been changed to protect the privacy of this individual. In fact, this is the ONLY clue we have as to his/her gender. It's really still up in the air). Yolanda was enjoying a late dinner on the bus. By dinner, I mean some sort of gray-green substance that smelled just like it looked- perhaps cooked vomit filled with gray peas? Yolanda, however, seemed quite pleased with her little dinn dinn and attempted to share/trade it with EVERY passenger on the bus. Two college students obliged by trading her some other snack items for her delectables, after that, Yolanda et al. were friends for lyfe.
Our bus adventures thus ended, but the memories of that dueling-wheelchair-gray-green-vomit-fried-garbage-food have FOREVER been burned into my senses. I want to thank the entire cast of characters on board that day for inspiring what has thus followed, and inspiring me to always work the system, shit, that's how we get it done.
So I thought I would brighten these dark, dark days with a staycation down memory lane, of course remembering our first and favorite trip on the 1.
Some might call this the godfather of all bus hopper adventures, and the first time we heard this vocation calling our names. From this point forward, movies lost their draw (I mean, why would I pay $13 to watch uncomfortable love unfold in 3-D *cough Avatar cough* when I could pay $0.00 to watch it shake up at a spectacular pace on the Northbound 1R? Oh, but that's an entirely different tale...)
This adventure could have a host of other titles, such as "How we survived the battle of the dueling wheelchairs" or "what kind of vegetable looks gray and smells like garbage?" or perhaps, "The bus ride that answers the question,'Huh?'", but for the time being, let's stick with what we have.
We embarked on that particular dusky evening, brains a little fuzzy from a previous adventure. This was our first cooperative venture on the 1, so of course we were a little giddy. We sat in the 'tea-cup' seats and strapped in for the ride. Our spins were short-lived however, as a wheelchair-bound passenger boarded; we respectfully headed toward the [boring] seats in the back, taking more of an observational than participatory role in the events of that night. Thank god.
Minutes later a second, seemingly wheelchair-bound passenger boarded. This man was, however, very different. You're familiar with Lil'Wayne, no? and giants also? This was two of those in one person. Whoa. (yes, I did just google "lil'wayne as a giant in a wheelchair" to see if I could add a photo clip. No dice. weird). Blingin' hard, chalice in hand, this young gent was full-on abusing the AC Transit ramp system. He had one of those wheelchairs where you just use your finger to move the whole chair. Total pimp status. Basically, two thirds of the bus was taken up by wheel-chairs, space was limited. We all had to get a little closer...you know what that means...
After the novelty of the gangsta-chair had worn off, we searched for other one-act bus plays that were happening. On the other side of us was Yolanda (names have [not actually] been changed to protect the privacy of this individual. In fact, this is the ONLY clue we have as to his/her gender. It's really still up in the air). Yolanda was enjoying a late dinner on the bus. By dinner, I mean some sort of gray-green substance that smelled just like it looked- perhaps cooked vomit filled with gray peas? Yolanda, however, seemed quite pleased with her little dinn dinn and attempted to share/trade it with EVERY passenger on the bus. Two college students obliged by trading her some other snack items for her delectables, after that, Yolanda et al. were friends for lyfe.
Our bus adventures thus ended, but the memories of that dueling-wheelchair-gray-green-vomit-fried-garbage-food have FOREVER been burned into my senses. I want to thank the entire cast of characters on board that day for inspiring what has thus followed, and inspiring me to always work the system, shit, that's how we get it done.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Sitcho' Ass Down or How We Upset all of Oakland
Sometimes bus hopping is a great social activity. A way to not only make friends on the bus, but to also form stronger bonds with those closest to you...like baby sisters.
Last week, my little sister came to visit and we had big plans to see MGMT at the Fox Theater in Oakland. I had never been to the Fox or seen MGMT, and she had never taken the 1 bus. Oh what a time it was bound to be.
We were so excited to see our favorite metal mystics that we decided it would be a good idea to start ramping up for the show at 3 pm...nearly seven hours before they were actually due to go onstage. After a chilly deck session filled with a lot of Sofia Coppola Blanc de Blanc canned wine and Wyder's Ciders, these bus hoppers were more than ready to hope on the 1.
On our journey to the bus we encountered many treasures on the ground...piles of shoes, fold up beds, and old teddy bears.
Once we got on the 1, we found a lovely spot in the middle of the bus (the part that moves around like the tea cups at Disneyland). Our brains felt like we were experiencing 1979 all over again, but we hadn't even arrived at the show yet.
After a long ride we reached the Fox and were enamored by the shiny marquee and helpful patrons. However, we were a bit confused by our balcony seats and in the depths of my mind I had a feeling that our free spirits might not be welcomed in the balcony world.
The show began in the lovely Bollywood-style re-vamped venue. The opening band, Francis and the Lights, had some cool moves, though it was hard to decipher who in fact was Francis. Bbay sister and I stood up during Francis and the Lights and kept standing for MGMT.
We just so happened to be in the very front of the balcony (which is tiered, so even if you do happen to be standing, those behind you can still see). After some lovely new and old songs, we received a tap on the back from a man behind us. He wanted us to sit down because his legs hurt...in our melted taffy minds we decided to compromise. We promised to sit down for the next song but would definitely be standing for the rest of the show. Remember when we were at a concert?
After some intense dancing in our seats he apologized and said we could stand. It was then that I realized who this individual was...a former GSI from an English class. It may have seemed more surprising prior to the concert but at the time and still at this moment he seems lazy and most likely library-bound.
Baby sister and I ignored the haters who didn't know any of the songs and stomped the yard instead, singing along to the Megamountain hits.
After the fantastic show, I reached down to grab my jacket from my seat and found a surprise...a ransom note?! Someone (perhaps a member of a 1970s cult or a fellow bus hopper) had cross-stitched (I kid you not) a note telling us that we "sucked at dancing and were NOT getting on stage. So Sitcho' asses down" (with a upside-down arrow). I didn't know we were at an arts and crafts fair and though this note was random,I took it as a compliment. And god knows I love free art.
We left the Fox bewildered and a bit angry, but ready for more adventures. We finally found the bus stop for the 1 after stumbling around Telegraph and made our way onto an empty bus. We discovered a Plan B packet on the seat behind us and would have expected nothing less.
After a glazed maple donut and a long walk home we felt accomplished.
We had managed to upset a whole section of the Fox theater, but we still had a blast and as always the bus still had our back.
Last week, my little sister came to visit and we had big plans to see MGMT at the Fox Theater in Oakland. I had never been to the Fox or seen MGMT, and she had never taken the 1 bus. Oh what a time it was bound to be.
We were so excited to see our favorite metal mystics that we decided it would be a good idea to start ramping up for the show at 3 pm...nearly seven hours before they were actually due to go onstage. After a chilly deck session filled with a lot of Sofia Coppola Blanc de Blanc canned wine and Wyder's Ciders, these bus hoppers were more than ready to hope on the 1.
On our journey to the bus we encountered many treasures on the ground...piles of shoes, fold up beds, and old teddy bears.
Once we got on the 1, we found a lovely spot in the middle of the bus (the part that moves around like the tea cups at Disneyland). Our brains felt like we were experiencing 1979 all over again, but we hadn't even arrived at the show yet.
After a long ride we reached the Fox and were enamored by the shiny marquee and helpful patrons. However, we were a bit confused by our balcony seats and in the depths of my mind I had a feeling that our free spirits might not be welcomed in the balcony world.
The show began in the lovely Bollywood-style re-vamped venue. The opening band, Francis and the Lights, had some cool moves, though it was hard to decipher who in fact was Francis. Bbay sister and I stood up during Francis and the Lights and kept standing for MGMT.
We just so happened to be in the very front of the balcony (which is tiered, so even if you do happen to be standing, those behind you can still see). After some lovely new and old songs, we received a tap on the back from a man behind us. He wanted us to sit down because his legs hurt...in our melted taffy minds we decided to compromise. We promised to sit down for the next song but would definitely be standing for the rest of the show. Remember when we were at a concert?
After some intense dancing in our seats he apologized and said we could stand. It was then that I realized who this individual was...a former GSI from an English class. It may have seemed more surprising prior to the concert but at the time and still at this moment he seems lazy and most likely library-bound.
Baby sister and I ignored the haters who didn't know any of the songs and stomped the yard instead, singing along to the Megamountain hits.
After the fantastic show, I reached down to grab my jacket from my seat and found a surprise...a ransom note?! Someone (perhaps a member of a 1970s cult or a fellow bus hopper) had cross-stitched (I kid you not) a note telling us that we "sucked at dancing and were NOT getting on stage. So Sitcho' asses down" (with a upside-down arrow). I didn't know we were at an arts and crafts fair and though this note was random,I took it as a compliment. And god knows I love free art.
We left the Fox bewildered and a bit angry, but ready for more adventures. We finally found the bus stop for the 1 after stumbling around Telegraph and made our way onto an empty bus. We discovered a Plan B packet on the seat behind us and would have expected nothing less.
After a glazed maple donut and a long walk home we felt accomplished.
We had managed to upset a whole section of the Fox theater, but we still had a blast and as always the bus still had our back.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
D.I.N.O.S.A.U.R. a dinosaur
Dear dear followers,
just because we haven't been bus hopping as regularly doesn't mean we haven't been having adventures galore.
Sometimes the bus hoppers like to branch out.
Often times a long work week sitting in a figurine-filled cubicle can make one feel, well, quite crazy.
So, when a close friend decided that we needed to go to the Mission to see some bands I knew that good stories would ensue. The evening was mellow and the night was a hit. So nice for bus hoppers to both be 12 now...the possibilities for travels are endless.
However, often times coming back to the East Bay from the Mission at 1:30 in the morning can prove to be a bit more diffcult after many nachos, Wyder's ciders, and sweet basslines.
On this particular Friday night my friend (who shall remain nameless) claimed she knew how to get back to the East Bay via the Transbay bus. I had heard legends of this mystical bus but had never in fact had the pleasure of riding it (that's what she said?)...When the time came to take a bus to the Transbay terminal, we were stumped. Our brains felt broken and the bus stops happened to be merely painted on the lamp-posts. Luckily we got onto the 14 bus with all of our friends and guessed our way to the lovely Trans-bay terminal. It just so happened that the Trans-bay terminal shared some space with the Greyhound terminal...too much too soon.
I'd never been on the 800 Transbay bus, so I asked my friend and colleague where we were supposed to wait. Due to the fact that she decided not to wear her glasses, life was a little rough around the edges for her. She suggested that I ask someone in the terminal for directions. Let me tell you, it is quite difficult to ask anyone for help when the Transbay terminal looks like a People's Park convention--people asleep in their sleeping bags for miles on end.
Thankfully I found a friend with a bum leg and a semi-legit shiny vest...not Sex and the City chic, but close enough. He directed us to the platform with the misfits and we waited. I was scared but hoped for the best...the whole time questioning if the bus did actually exist. And it did!
Finally at 2 a.m. the 800 bus pulled up and inside all of our favorite friends awaited us. The ride was filled with trashy dialogue and who knew there was a bus stop on the Bay Bridge? We picked up a man with a grey beard covered in moss...
There was a cool kid drinking Joose on the bus while throwing quarters and running to pick them up. People get creative and I really approved of his one-man drinking game.
After a 30 minute bus ride we made it back to Shattuck and booked it home.
Though I enjoyed our misadventures, I was never more happen to be asleep in my own bed...far far away from any Greyhound terminal.
But, oh, Transbay, did you deliver.
just because we haven't been bus hopping as regularly doesn't mean we haven't been having adventures galore.
Sometimes the bus hoppers like to branch out.
Often times a long work week sitting in a figurine-filled cubicle can make one feel, well, quite crazy.
So, when a close friend decided that we needed to go to the Mission to see some bands I knew that good stories would ensue. The evening was mellow and the night was a hit. So nice for bus hoppers to both be 12 now...the possibilities for travels are endless.
However, often times coming back to the East Bay from the Mission at 1:30 in the morning can prove to be a bit more diffcult after many nachos, Wyder's ciders, and sweet basslines.
On this particular Friday night my friend (who shall remain nameless) claimed she knew how to get back to the East Bay via the Transbay bus. I had heard legends of this mystical bus but had never in fact had the pleasure of riding it (that's what she said?)...When the time came to take a bus to the Transbay terminal, we were stumped. Our brains felt broken and the bus stops happened to be merely painted on the lamp-posts. Luckily we got onto the 14 bus with all of our friends and guessed our way to the lovely Trans-bay terminal. It just so happened that the Trans-bay terminal shared some space with the Greyhound terminal...too much too soon.
I'd never been on the 800 Transbay bus, so I asked my friend and colleague where we were supposed to wait. Due to the fact that she decided not to wear her glasses, life was a little rough around the edges for her. She suggested that I ask someone in the terminal for directions. Let me tell you, it is quite difficult to ask anyone for help when the Transbay terminal looks like a People's Park convention--people asleep in their sleeping bags for miles on end.
Thankfully I found a friend with a bum leg and a semi-legit shiny vest...not Sex and the City chic, but close enough. He directed us to the platform with the misfits and we waited. I was scared but hoped for the best...the whole time questioning if the bus did actually exist. And it did!
Finally at 2 a.m. the 800 bus pulled up and inside all of our favorite friends awaited us. The ride was filled with trashy dialogue and who knew there was a bus stop on the Bay Bridge? We picked up a man with a grey beard covered in moss...
There was a cool kid drinking Joose on the bus while throwing quarters and running to pick them up. People get creative and I really approved of his one-man drinking game.
After a 30 minute bus ride we made it back to Shattuck and booked it home.
Though I enjoyed our misadventures, I was never more happen to be asleep in my own bed...far far away from any Greyhound terminal.
But, oh, Transbay, did you deliver.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Kick em' to the Curb
And yet again Bus Hoppers have fallen short of keeping you updated on our bus hopping adventures. Though we promised to live blog from the Southern California transit lines, this in fact did not happen. Probably because driving in a car fast on the freeway sounded more appealing.
But after much delibration and a couple bus hopping tales from contributing writers, we realized that bus hopping is in fact an art, a ritual, and a way of life.
Where else can you escape a potential riot? Where else can you make new friends who may or may not be homeless? And where else can you rightfully baptize your new ipod?
Only on the bus dear friends. Only, truly on AC Transit.
More adventures and stories to come. One faithful follower shared some exciting news...the 1 bus she was riding came to a sudden halt the other day when the hydraulics fell out! Who knew this could happen? It seems almost more magical than spotting a unicorn.
Let the games begin and please watch out for sudden stops.
But after much delibration and a couple bus hopping tales from contributing writers, we realized that bus hopping is in fact an art, a ritual, and a way of life.
Where else can you escape a potential riot? Where else can you make new friends who may or may not be homeless? And where else can you rightfully baptize your new ipod?
Only on the bus dear friends. Only, truly on AC Transit.
More adventures and stories to come. One faithful follower shared some exciting news...the 1 bus she was riding came to a sudden halt the other day when the hydraulics fell out! Who knew this could happen? It seems almost more magical than spotting a unicorn.
Let the games begin and please watch out for sudden stops.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Public Announcement
Hello faithful followers,
Although one half of the bus hoppers duo will be out of the greater Bay Area for the next two weeks, the other half will be back and ready to take the city by storm...via bus, bus, and more bus.
Also, look out for updates on bus hopping and trolley hopping in the San Diego area...it could get real, real fast.
That is all.
Although one half of the bus hoppers duo will be out of the greater Bay Area for the next two weeks, the other half will be back and ready to take the city by storm...via bus, bus, and more bus.
Also, look out for updates on bus hopping and trolley hopping in the San Diego area...it could get real, real fast.
That is all.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Pretty Young Things
It's like all my friends on the bus know that I write a blog about buses.
Since this will be my last AC Transit-based post until I come back from my homeward bound adventures, the 1 knew exactly how to bid me farewell in style on this hot day that made my brain melt.
As I walked to the the bus stop on my way to Oakland I did wonder what my trip on the 1 would be like since last weekend proved to be nothing short of underwhelming...or maybe it was just whelming.
Waiting at the 1 stop on Telegraph and Dwight never ceases to amaze me and today all of my friends were out in full force.
I realized today that just because I can't hear all of the characters at the bus stop doesn't mean that they don't want to be my friend.
Standing next to the old pay phone seemed to encourage the homeless Frick and Frack to stage a bit of performance art in front of my very eyes. The man in the safari surfer hat decided to eat his delicious burrito directly in front of me while his other half (man or woman...hard to say) chugged her canned beer and did a little jig.
The beer turned out to be so good that once she was done she smashed it against a tree...
Between the sounds of the street and my own faithful music, she appeared to be rapping about "fucking this city with a million dollars." Too true too soon.
Finally the 1 arrived but there was some street mojo that had to be straightened out first. The beer infused friend confronted another friend in dark dark sunglasses and apparently said something that made him very angry...so much so that he started to choke him/her a lot yelling "I thought I told you I never wanted to see your face around here again!!"
Due to the drama of this situation, the bus driver didn't allow the drunkst choking victim onto the bus for fear of a re-enactment from the 1989 hit "Crackhouse".
But wait there's more. Who knew that there were silver foxes in Oakland?
Usually one might define silver fox as: An attractive older man. Generally, one that has gray hair and is often desired by younger women. (Thank you Urban Dictionary).
In actuality it seemed that one can think of himself as a silver fox even if he appears to be potentially homeless but is actually only in need of the keys to the gallery next to yours.
Let's just say that this fellow...we'll call him Steve...was very much interested in coming into the gallery I happened to be sitting in this afternoon and wanted to chat it up. He must have come into the gallery at least 6 times asking what time it was (really? you don't even have a watch?). Then he asked if I wanted a beer since he just found some in a back shed! The best was when he asked if I was the pretty young thing they hired to sit in the gallery. All in all good pick up lines that unfortunately did not work.
Coming home, the 1 was 45 minutes late as I melted like a small angry popsicle in the funny Oakland sun.
And surely riding the bus is never the most comfortable experience, but at the end of the day (like the insightful man on the 1 this afternoon announced) we are all just trying to get by.
Since this will be my last AC Transit-based post until I come back from my homeward bound adventures, the 1 knew exactly how to bid me farewell in style on this hot day that made my brain melt.
As I walked to the the bus stop on my way to Oakland I did wonder what my trip on the 1 would be like since last weekend proved to be nothing short of underwhelming...or maybe it was just whelming.
Waiting at the 1 stop on Telegraph and Dwight never ceases to amaze me and today all of my friends were out in full force.
I realized today that just because I can't hear all of the characters at the bus stop doesn't mean that they don't want to be my friend.
Standing next to the old pay phone seemed to encourage the homeless Frick and Frack to stage a bit of performance art in front of my very eyes. The man in the safari surfer hat decided to eat his delicious burrito directly in front of me while his other half (man or woman...hard to say) chugged her canned beer and did a little jig.
The beer turned out to be so good that once she was done she smashed it against a tree...
Between the sounds of the street and my own faithful music, she appeared to be rapping about "fucking this city with a million dollars." Too true too soon.
Finally the 1 arrived but there was some street mojo that had to be straightened out first. The beer infused friend confronted another friend in dark dark sunglasses and apparently said something that made him very angry...so much so that he started to choke him/her a lot yelling "I thought I told you I never wanted to see your face around here again!!"
Due to the drama of this situation, the bus driver didn't allow the drunkst choking victim onto the bus for fear of a re-enactment from the 1989 hit "Crackhouse".
But wait there's more. Who knew that there were silver foxes in Oakland?
Usually one might define silver fox as: An attractive older man. Generally, one that has gray hair and is often desired by younger women. (Thank you Urban Dictionary).
In actuality it seemed that one can think of himself as a silver fox even if he appears to be potentially homeless but is actually only in need of the keys to the gallery next to yours.
Let's just say that this fellow...we'll call him Steve...was very much interested in coming into the gallery I happened to be sitting in this afternoon and wanted to chat it up. He must have come into the gallery at least 6 times asking what time it was (really? you don't even have a watch?). Then he asked if I wanted a beer since he just found some in a back shed! The best was when he asked if I was the pretty young thing they hired to sit in the gallery. All in all good pick up lines that unfortunately did not work.
Coming home, the 1 was 45 minutes late as I melted like a small angry popsicle in the funny Oakland sun.
And surely riding the bus is never the most comfortable experience, but at the end of the day (like the insightful man on the 1 this afternoon announced) we are all just trying to get by.
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