Public Transport (Jeremy)

A couple of nights ago, for the first night in a very, very long while, I got home in time to watch the news. Of particular interest to me was the article on Bracks’ brand new plan on spending for public transport until 2010. Good ol’ Steve and Peter looked straight at the camera and told us all that they weren’t going to spend very much money on public transport whilst they used voices that sounded as though they were going to spend lots of money on public transport. Then we had a shot of Steve and Peter taking the train and we know they weren’t regular passengers taking the train because they weren’t being showered in toddler spit, leant on by the next passenger drifting off to sleep, and they weren’t even fare evading. How UnAustralian is that!
Generally I try and avoid the news full stop if I can – there’s always a danger that one of George Bush, Jeff Kennett or the Queen could be on it, and I’d rather keep my appetite for dinner – but this was a fairly pertinent article to me. See, as wonderful as Warrandyte is, filled with birds and trees and the sort of babbling brooks that could have kept Enid Blyton writing for fifteen months straight, and perhaps the occasional pot-smoking relic from 1968, there is one issue with it. It’s a bloody long way from Melbourne Uni. For those of us who can’t afford to move out of home (thankyou very much Centrelink for the “independance” qualification on Youth Allowance), that is an issue, although it’s not exactly life-threatening.
As such, I have become an absolute black belt in using Public Transport. I know the system backwards. I know the answers to all the questions you could possibly have about public transport; for example, what should you never do on Melbourne’s Public Transport System? (a) Read the MX, (b) Catch the train to Belgrave, (c) Take a bike on the train and put it somewhere where it actually won’t get in anyone’s way, or (d) Wear deodorant? (The answer is All of the Above, especially answer A. I am convinced that the MX sucks out your IQ as you read it. Seriously, you could walk onto that train as a Law/Arts/Science student, and by the time you get to the “Boring But Important” section you’ll be walking off that train to discover that you’re studying Commerce**. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!).

Of course, putting up with the Public Transport System means putting up with Connex. I do not publicly say things like this too often, so let me put it succintly like so; I would rather put up with a mother-in-law. The sign that you’ve been travelling on Connex trains for far too long is, as I was saying to some friends yesterday, when you can recite and intonate the following phrase syllable-by-syllable: “The 4.38, Belgrave, train, has been delayed, and is now expected in, ooh, *&$%, a really long time. Connex apologises for any inconvenience caused.” That, and when you master the art of getting on the correct carriage at the first station to be in line with the escalator at the next. In retrospect, that’s probably life’s way of telling you to buy a car.

But, for all my whinging about the public transport system (and oh isn’t it a lot of whinging), you know what? I wouldn’t go without it for the world. Sure, it’s not always smooth, and it’s not always the most comfortable of journeys (nickname of “DVT” would suit best), but compared to the strictly black and white world of car travel, catching the bus is like a world of colour. I’ve met so many fantastic people on the bus; (and I’m sorry to initialise you all, you know who you are), people like C, K, M, L, P and of course “that” C. I’ve stood there watching K and M alternating between hyperventilation and near-incontinence with laughter as the old busker with the violin decided to test the theory mid-bus that excruciatingly bad violin playing for an hour solid makes your ears bleed. (My ears remain intact but I carry the mental scars with me). I’ve been lynched by small toddlers who decided that I looked like the nicest guy to play with on the tram, I’ve been told that I was a Lovely Young Man by old ladies whose shopping jeeps I carried (and how wrong can people possibly be?!?) and I’ve been told by many a drunk man late at night that She Looks Like A Bit Of Orright. My personal favourites are raunchy phone conversations mid-train (the phrase “YOU’RE just jealous because YOU didn’t get any last night!” sticks out in my mind) and catching somebody picking their nose (and my oh my isn’t it just amazing how itchy the OUTSIDE of your nose feels all of a sudden when I catch you, hey?), but Zone-2 beggars can’t be choosers. It makes up for spending that much more time in transit every day, regardless.

And hey, in the end, I even learnt something. Question six, the MX daily quiz, a couple of days ago. What traditionally signifies a couple’s sixth anniversary of marriage? Sugar. (My answer was “divorce”, but there you go). See? I told you, public transport is a world of colour. You wouldn’t learn that from the inside of a car now, would you?

take care
xo
jez

** = Sorry Soph!

ps – my photo is now up on the website so please feel free to come up and abuse me at University. I really wanted one of me gettin’ down with Glynn Davis though, so Glynn, if you’re out there, give me a ring. Call me. Call me now.

pps – I have obtained a copy of Frank Zappa’s album Hot Rats (1969). It is so good it is INSANE. How could you not love a man who wrote the following lyrics (not on this album):

“Be a good little Eskimo,
Watch out where them huskies go,
And don’t you eat that yellow snow!”.

This album, however, is just incredible – and so far ahead of its time. It features Jean-Luc Ponty, a French electric violinist (which works surprisingly well in a blues/rock/jazz tune), and Captain Beefheart in a vocal cameo, who even Frank Zappa said was A Bit Weird. (As Dad said, when a man who names his children “Dweezil”, “Ahmet Emuukha”, “Diva Muffin” and “Moon Unit” Zappa says you’re weird, then you’ve probably got some issues). As you can tell, I love this album. If anyone else has even heard of Frank Zappa, give me a heads-up. The man is a musical legend.