Category: reflection

Photo by Heather Champ

The layers of life on and around Muni can be a damn good petri dish of creativity. As such, many of us turn on the creative juices and pay homage to our favorite transit agency with the written word. San Francisco’s a literary town, after all, isn’t it? The ever-prolific @cripsahoy posted a series of Muni limericks she’s written about our beloved transit system the other day, as one example. My fave:

Riding the Geary express
A lady cried out in distress
“A man in this seat
Was stroking his meat!
T’was impressive, but I digress”

And who can forget the lovable Muni Haiku Project?

Ahead of yesterday’s SFMTA board meeting that, among other things, concerned itself with outgoing chief Nat Ford’s severance package, former Rescue Muni member Herbert J. Weiner sent us this tome:

Nat Ford
Your Run is Over

Success and Failure
Failure:
You have left
MTA worse than

you found it Transit
First: Riders motorists
bus and taxi drivers
frail and elderly last

Success: You threw so
many under the wheels
Perhaps the most
skillful driver you

weaved in and out of
critics City Hall and
improvements that
could have been made

bringing quiet peaceful
streets to an end
cutting and eliminating
runs so crucial to

the frail and sick
So many thrown under
the wheels Now the
wheels welcome you

but not the victims
Your bus has finally
crashed Your run is
over You must leave

by the rear doors
With luck they won’t
slam on you

There’s even a site dedicated to what people are reading while riding Muni. Check out Between the Lines. And earlier this month, we told you about Raymond, the Muni poet laureate.

Are you aware of other intersections of Muni and literature? Let us know!

Photo by juicyrai

Sometimes an everyday adventure can turn into something quite extraordinary. Muni rider Terry shares this gripping tale.

Saturday afternoon my partner and I were taking the 108 off Treasure Island to catch a movie downtown. About a fourth of the way across the bridge, the bus driver stops along the right side of the bridge next to a middle-aged Latino male in a dark blue T-shirt and jeans using the yellow emergency call box. The bus driver asked if he was in trouble or needed a tow. The man just stood there on the phone looking bewildered. At that moment, I had a gut feeling this was not a guy stuck with an auto problem.

The next part confirmed my gut feeling. The bus driver noticed the guy looking bewildered and yelled out to him, “It’s not worth it man, get on the bus and I will take you downtown.” The man looked up at the bus driver and yelled back, “I just want to go!” He then dropped the call box phone, looked around flustered, and then climbed over the wall of the Bay Bridge. Everyone on the bus screamed, some stood up to look, and I turned my head to look away.

Everyone on the bus was a bit freaked out. I and others tried calling 911 while the bus driver contacted dispatch about the situation. 911 were busy and the bus driver had no choice but to drive onward. Some passengers on the bus stood watching behind the bus to see if he was going to jump. A mother was covering her child’s face while reciting a prayer, and the rest just seemed confused and traumatized. When the bus driver reached downtown, he lightened the mood with a thick Jamaican accent, made everyone laugh, and thanked everyone for riding Muni that afternoon.

During the movie, my partner and I hoped he had not jumped. Checked the news later that day and found out he was talked out of it, but the situation left many on the bridge delayed. Combine the release of the Giants game with that and traffic went on for hours into the night even on our way back home. Still, I am glad he didn’t jump.

I’ve heard how San Francisco’s bridges are the suicide capital of the world. I even remember seeing the haunting documentary called The Bridge about it, but I hoped never to see something like that ever occur — seeing a person giving up on life, the flustered look of hopelessness, the frustration in his face, and that gut feeling of despair. The world we live in can be quite rough sometimes, but this situation has left me feeling more appreciative for respecting life itself.

Thanks for sharing, Terry. What’s your Muni story?

Via The Bold Italic, we found Ramon Abad‘s lovely little illustrations, like the one above. For more, check out Ramon’s site. Maybe SFMTA can adorn underground stations with this art, kinda like how BART did with Josh Ellingson‘s.

None other than Raymond of Proportion Cups. Raymond sent us these uplifting words he penned in homage to Muni:

The morning light breaks through

Offering comfort and inspiration

Leaving bad thoughts to drown in new ideas

Unbound and free, discord fades into harmony

Soon the murk will seem lifetimes behind me

But, I know, as I have always known, and will forever know

MUNI STILL SUX

Like we said, “uplifting.”