In Transit...

Dear Glob,

Rush hour sucks. Today I got out a wee bit late from work, and had to haul ass in order to catch my bus back to Rockland. Fortunately Luck was my Lady tonight, and an express train rolled into the station as I was descending the stairs to the platform. Sweet. When I got off at 96^th to transfer, a crowd of people was already waiting for the Local. Sure enough when the train arrived, it was the usual push and shove to cram into an already jam packed subway car. You know, ever since I rode the Tokyo commuter rail at its peak (and subsequently believed I cracked my rib cage by the “smoosh force” I had to endure during the 20 minute train ride), I will never EVER complain about a crowded NYC subway. No matter how crowded a train seems, I will always find a nook or cranny to squeeze myself in. Today was no exception. After tailing behind a big guy who forced his way through the crowd, I calmly slipped between 2 people standing by the train’s door. Usually this kind of behavior warrants jealous stares from the platform or “Wait for the next train” comments, but not for the likes of me. Case in point: Today as I shimmied into the train, not only did passengers make way for one more on the fully crowed train, but people who were waiting longer than I on the platform nodded in agreement, knowing that only I could comfortably fit into the remaining space left in the car. Double sweet. Sometimes it pays off to be Small and Unassuming.

Commuting, le sigh - although it’s the main reason why I’m leaving my super cool Roommates and moving into Brooklyn (mark your calendars, dear Readers – 2/10/2007), I must admit it’s not that bad this time around. In addition to my foolproof commute home, my morning counterpart has become a regular routine. Around 7:00am, Mother and I hitch a ride with our good friends, Tita K. and Tito J.* I usually zone out as the conversation flows in and out of Tagalog, until around 7:30am when the Phone Tap comes on. For those of you blessedly not up at this hour, or do not have the pleasure of listening to Z100’s morning show, the Phone Tap is your classic crank call that is previously recorded and aired on the radio. Listeners write in to propose ideal situations and supply unsuspecting victims for a couple of minutes of Radio stardom. The taste levels range from Z100 DJs posing as airlines representatives who tell a bride-to-be that airlines tickets booked for her destination wedding have been canceled, to calling up parents informing them that their daughter has been arrested for participating in a communist rally.** Although some are worse than others, I can’t help but cringe every time this segment comes on. To make matters worse, Tita K. and Tito J. live for this show during our commute, ceasing conversation, pumping up the volume and gleefully announcing that the Phone Tap is about to begin. Not wanting to show my discomfort, I smile and politely laugh along through all the curses, curt comments and craziness instigated by the Z100 pranksters and co-conspirators. Its not like I don’t understand what’s funny about the situation – I could even laugh on cue, knowing exactly when people who genuinely find this kind of thing funny would laugh. I just don’t understand why people are amused by other people’s frustration, especially, in most situations, by other family member’s frustration. My friend Tree long ago tried to explain the humor to me, citing the idea, which also happens to be the root of the Z100 Phone Tap tagline: “Bringing families together, while tearing them apart.” By being able to play these kinds of jokes on family members or friends shows/promotes closeness. I agree that forgiveness is the cornerstone of some of my best relationships, but testing the patience of someone you love by poking at an already sore spot for the sake of amusement? No, I don’t find that funny.

Although I do find this funny… So who am I to judge about tasteful humor?

*Funny side-story: Before Mother and I started commuting with them, Tita K. and Tito J. would give their regular GW Bridge toll guard a sandwich every so often, coaxing him into charging them the carpool rate despite not having 3 passengers. Pretty smart, huh?

**This particular Phone Tap could warrant its own post – With information provided by his daughter, Z100 harassed a Romanian immigrant father, picking on everything from his accent to his home country’s communist roots. Right now, I don’t feel well informed enough to write an educated response to this on my sing-song campy glob, but listening to him trying to assert his “American-ness” hit close to home in the wake of post-911 backlash against foreign born citizens.