And Another One Rides the Bus
Election Day Wheeling
There’s a reason presidential candidates put their campaigns on a bus—usually after wrapping up the party’s convention and taking advantage of a good head of steam. A bus is such a grassroots way to travel, so folksy, with a nod towards us working class stiffs. A bus draws attention as it rolls across the heartland, especially if it has a colorful sign splashed across the side with the candidate’s name and slogan. Something similar on a plane only gets attention landing and taking off.
So it was that Election Day had me on TransIt, wheeling around with the bus buddies.
A woman with a sample ballot in her hand excitedly stepped off as close as she could to North Frederick Elementary School, her polling place. The #61 passed other voting spots, noticeable by the campaign signs stuck in the ground, but supporters seemed to be lacking. Even the old armory on Bentz Street, normally a hotbed of electioneering, looked a little underwhelmed right before lunch. Maybe everyone voted early, but several of the buddies said they were waiting until evening.
“I’m very excited,” said one. “We’re going to see our first woman president. Now, can I just go anywhere to vote?”
“No, no,” I replied. “You have to go to your assigned precinct.”
“OK. Just so I do it right. I need to do it right.”
The bus routinely offers a quick look at how life is for senior citizens, college students, single moms, immigrants and other demographics that pollsters are so interested in. Just by things I’ve observed the past couple of years on the bus, life seems better. I see that the grocery bags being toted are full. Many riders appear to be going to school or to a job. My buddy Chris, steering this little cross section of the population, made me aware of something else.
When I was working full time and was a daily rider traveling from the west end of the city, through Hillcrest and out to Ballenger Creek Pike, many of the riders were Hispanic. There were the hotel housekeeping workers, or those dressed in fast-food restaurant uniforms.
“They’re all gone now,” Chris said. “They bought their own cars and don’t need to take the bus.” And those without cars were likely sharing rides with those who did.
“That’s a good thing,” I guessed, “That they’re able to earn enough to afford a car?”
“I suppose,” Chris answered.
But maybe it’s not so good that riders are being lost and not replaced. How long could the system last without paying customers? Do you guilt people into riding because it cuts down on pollution or the need to build more roads to accommodate all that car traffic? Or do the powers that be say who cares as long as we’re subsidized by the government; that the show will always go on.
There’s a lot for the policy makers—some of them newly elected by the end of this day—to consider, but I remain optimistic. After all, we are blessed with free and open elections. When you get on a public bus you don’t worry that it’s going to be blown up like in too many other countries. Most of all I’m happy for the open exchange of ideas between me and the buddies. They have stuff to say and I’m privileged to pass it along.
