Timing is Everything!

An incident occurred today at lunch that was a little disconcerting. Parts of the office are not only cold but also have a continuous blast of cold air being pumped into them. A request to have the air ducts checked in the room must have been made because towards the end of lunch a repairman came in to take a look. He was grumbling and mumbling things to himself as well as explaining to us some possible issues. Everything was fine until I heard what I thought was “you can only take so much”. At that the term ‘going postal’ came crashing into my head so I quickly collected my remnants of lunch and all but ran out the door. The repairman seemed to be in fine spirits and gave no impression he was on the verge of snapping but after a comment like that, it just seemed like the time to leave.

Where'd It Go?

When one leaves work at the end of the day, they expect things to be as they left them when they return the next day. Since humans are forgetful by nature and in an office environment, frequently forget to return small items when borrowing them for an urgent issue, we can understand when a pen goes missing, some post-it notes, and we can even understand if a stapler goes missing.

This morning a co-worker returned after a week-long absence to find something missing. From all accounts, his writing materials were still where he left them, his stapler didn’t grow legs nor did anything else of the sort disappear during his vacancy. None of the typical items borrowed in a rush and not returned were missing, nope, the item was one that is not expected to disappear no matter how long the absence is. The item that my co-worker found absent was his mouse. I am not a computer genius or anything but I don’t think computers require more than one mouse to operate. I guess we can chalk this up to one of life’s great mysteries.

I’m Not a TTC Skidaddler

Don't forget your ticket when I open up the door-
Kindly make your way along the aisle
I'll drive ya down to work and I'll safely bring ya back
And I'll try to render service with a smile

Last night I decided to stay downtown to check out a Jays’ game and spend the night at my sister’s place in Toronto. The game was not very exciting but the night was rather enjoyable overall. This morning I woke up feeling refreshed and ready to take on the TTC commuters. It was my luck, or so I thought, there was a downtown express bus that operated close to where I was. Sure it was an extra $2.25 but it was faster (not that I am in a big hurry to get to work or anything) and supposedly empty. Nice!

The three of us (my sister, her husband and I) made our way to the bus stop to wait for the bus. My sister, travelling the opposite way, had to connect to the subway to get to work so when her bus arrived, we said our goodbyes and she was off to work. The two of us who remained had another couple minutes until our bus was scheduled to arrive. Five minutes later the bus still had not arrived. Finally, fifteen minutes after the scheduled arrival time, the bus finally made it’s much anticipated appearance. Even though the bus was late it was still quite empty and despite the noise, the ride to work was not too painful and even with the late pickup, I still managed to arrive at work on time.

I think this experience solidifies the fact that public transit is not for me. The GO train has given me nothing but trouble and even the TTC seems to have a grudge against me. Maybe I am just expecting too much when I expect public transit to run on time and I should just be satisfied with the times I actually do get to work (or home) on time.

I'm a TTC Skidaddler yeah sockit to my big red rattler-
Ya sockit to my big red rattler

*Italics are lyrics from Stompin' Tom Connors song I'm A TTC Skiddadler

Between a Rock and a Fat Man

One day last week, Wednesday I think it was, Stinky T and I grabbed a seat on a homebound train at our usual time. That day, however, the train did not move. The train suffered from what GO Transit likes to call "equipment problems" and everyone on board had to detrain and force their way onto the next train, which was already full.

After a brief period of standing on the next train, we decided to get off and wait for yet one more train so we could grab a seat for the long ride home. The train arrived at Union Station as the previous train was leaving so we joined the herd and jumped on, grabbing a random seat on the upper tier. For those who have never been on a GO train (I am so envious of you), the seats are grouped in fours and are not identically spaced; in other words, some foursomes have more legroom between them. The foursome we grabbed this day had almost no legroom in between. I would say there was less than an inch between my shins and the seat facing me.

I quickly noticed the tight spot we were in and pointed it out to Stinky T but unsuspecting any issues with the tight space, we got comfortable (or as comfortable as one can get on the rock hard seats). The train began slowly filling up and before long I knew someone was going to join our foursome. Since there was next to no legroom, I did not expect anyone too big to sit in front of me but that was not the case at all. I don't even know why I expect people with at least a little intelligence to actually use the train because, other than Stinky T, I doubt anyone has an I.Q greater than a grade schooler does.

Instead of a toothpick grabbing the seat in front of me, I sat there and watched as a man as wide as he was tall decides to cram his tree stump legs into the almost non-existent space. This in itself is not too bad as this type of thing happens frequently to me although most times the person has enough sense to try not to invade my space even though it is usually an impossible task. When this thing first sat down it also made a feeble attempt to follow this practice, that is until someone wanted to occupy the seat beside me. With a past lesson learned, I knew I was going to lose all my leg room if I were to totally move to allow this lady in so I had to keep my one leg pretty much where it was. History did repeat itself this time too. Instead of allowing me to return to the position I was in before, one which seemed fine with this thing seconds before, he quickly swung his legs in basically preventing me from any possible comfort. Instead of giving in to temptation and risking my fist becoming a snack, I got up and found another seat, one that had a plethora of room, which the thing could have easily enjoyed had he not been too lazy to take another dozen steps.

As it turns out, I must have a sign on me somewhere, in some invisible ink only visible to those ignorant people who seem to think my body is a perfect place to test the strength of their purses or bags because once again this morning some biatch tried to force her bag into a spot it didn't fit. After scraping it down my leg and then smashing my leg with it a few times, it finally got under her seat. Then came the newspaper. If I didn't have calluses on my thumb I would have received several paper cuts. Once we arrived at Union station, she repeated the episode with her bag only in reverse and more violently, leaving the newspaper she was reading wherever it happened to land. On the other hand, maybe she left it there to keep her violated coffee cup company for the day. It is too bad there is not about a dozen recycling bins on every platform or she I am sure she would have used one.

Equipment Problems

I fought the urge to call in sick this morning and dragged my sorry ass out of bed. Things seemed to be going as it should as my day began. I left the house on time and arrived at the train station in plenty of time to catch my 6:52 train into Toronto. Nothing seemed awry walking through the parking lot towards the station even though the station was a train short (often times the next train does not pull into the station until my iPod is drowning out the undesirable sounds of public transportation). I was actually quite enjoying the leisurely stroll in the bright sunshine this cool morning, after all it is a Friday. I validated my ticket in the antiquated ticket machine and, after being cut off by a woman who I moved aside for moments earlier so I didn’t cut her off, I started down the length of the platform to the lead car.

After passing the end car I hear the muffled metallic sound of the speakers. These speakers are as effective as talking underwater so I did not hear enough to know what the point of this horrendous screeching was. I get to my destination and occupy a seat. Before I have time to warm up my traveling companion (iPod), an announcement comes over the train’s p.a. system, “This is the 7:11 train and it will be making all regular station stops…the 6:52 has been cancelled due to equipment problems…” Great, I now have to sit in the train for an extra thirty minutes before I am on my way and, even better, the train is going to be standing room only after the second stop. Not much I can do now.

About ten minutes prior to departure, a second announcement spouts from the train’s speakers, we are going to be making an extra stop now. Why not? I am already going to be late as it is, why not stop at every station en route????? So now the train that is usually full has to accommodate the riders of two trains and instead of making fewer stops, we are now going to be making an additional stop. Not sure how the math is going to work out here but hey, what do I know. To come to a quick end, when we arrived at Pickering station (our usual last stop before Union) the train was full and not many riders were able to jump on and at Rouge Hill (the added stop) I don’t even think the train doors opened. What the heck was the point of even stopping????

Sometimes I wonder what GO Transit is thinking. I do feel bad for the conductors though because they are the ones that face the wrath from the riders when they are not responsible for ensuring the trains are in proper working order and most of them are just as annoyed at the delays and cancellations as the passengers. It is time for GO Transit to be held accountable for major service disruptions and the only way that will happen is if we riders voice our concerns to government officials. I plan on writing a letter to my MPP, which I will post here, to highlight this issue in hopes the government will hold GO Transit accountable for avoidable delays like “equipment problems”.

Today

Before I am asked countless times how my day is going today, I thought I would take the initiative and tell you.

Good news: the train operated on time today, arriving on schedule

Bad news: I am at work.

The Long-Dreaded Return

Well, I am now into my first full week back to work after a four month sabbatical with Alan and I was right not to want to come back here. Nothing changed! It seems as if none of my work was done during my absence but instead it was swept under the rug to await my return. There has been one change that affects me: I have adopted a new responsibility, one that I have yet to receive any instructions on.

After further reflection, I have realized that although the work has remained relatively unchanged (and undone), many changes did take place while I was away. Some changes are obvious ones (like changing jobs and offices); most are not. The major changes are those subtle changes, undetectable to our conscience minds, hidden in the depths of our subconscious. Looking back, something seemed different the first time I flew in for a club meeting but at the time, I thought the perceived difference was a result of my change in vantage point and that things would be as it was upon my return but now I see these changes are here to stay.

The Canyon Creek Club, once a strong and exclusive club, is now in shambles taking away any fun and escape I may get at work. That club is now but an intricate weave stitching together the life fabric of a small group of people separating once again after only a brief moment together. A moment that was shared and enjoyed by those affected but like all of life’s great moments, its intricacy will never be recreated. The Canyon Creek Club may reform with my return or maybe a new club or association will replace the former one but no matter how determined we all are, the club will never be the same.

As I am trying to complete work from the four months I was away, keep up to date with current work, and continue to test changes and help to modify and cleanup a program, I will be trying to learn a new job (one which I want absolutely nothing to do with) while also trying to adapt to the subtle changes of a crumbling club and its members.