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My jaw dropped in amazement and pleasure.
“Sho Luv!!!” I exclaimed, as he stood before me at Third and Columbia, a resurrected friend from my bygone 358 days. "Oh my goodness!!!"
He burst wide with a grin, the same grin he's always had, the kind of beaming smirk you feel is letting you in on a secret. Maybe he shares that with me because we hail from the same neighborhood in South Central LA, South Gate. I exclaimed, “I'm so happy to see you!"
Sho Luv was too, and told me about recently seeing a driver just like me, getting his keys replaced, and other sundries of the morning.
He settled in, sprawling out in the front side seats. Reflecting. “Last I seen you I think you was goin’ through a breakup,” he said. “Did you end up findin’ someone new?”
I was impressed by his memory. (I'm just the bus driver!) The reality of the mess he alluded to was, and remains, too complicated to sum up in a sentence. You've been there. I’m in a better place now than I was, and by way of so intimating I said aloud, “I sure did!”
He cackled. “Ah knew you would! Tha’s my dude! I knew it, you're still young….”
“Your prophecy was correct!”
“They say when somethin’ is taken away from you, the next thing to come around’ll be that much better.”
“You know it! It's just so hard to see in the moment, right?”
“Yeah, you were in deep feelin’ it. I remember. I used to call you Chris but your name is Nate, right?”
“Yeah!”
“Nate the Great!”
“Exactly, Nate the Great. I'm not that great though!”
He moved to deboard, here at 3rd and Pike (or simply "Ross,” as we call it out here), but changed his mind upon seeing the melee outside, which was a touch worse than the already unsightly norm.
“Naw, I'll go to Virginia.”
“Let's go to Virginia. Let all this mess die down a little.”
He was looking outside. “What d’you make of all these zombies?”
Maybe the term sounds derogatory from the remove of an office or home armchair. I know how using the right vocabulary is of utmost importance in today's more educated circles, and I appreciate such well-meaning value. But things work differently out here on the street. We find ourselves putting greater emphasis on action. The words don't have to be so perfect. If you spend enough time at “the Blade," not passing through it or going around it or reading about it but in it, Sho Luv’s intention reveals itself as less pejorative than mere descriptor: a blend of observation, sarcasm, dejection and concern. These are buddies of ours out here.
“It's crazy,” I replied. “Yeah back then, that was, I was doin’ the E Line, it was the breakup, and it was pandemic, lockdown…”
“That was the bad time. Everybody so dePRESSed.”
“That was rough. All of it mixed together, I couldn't see straight.”
“Whole city falling apart. And now we got all these zombies, kids killin’ kids, killin’ themselves, I don't even know.”
“You know, I was driving this route, past Garfield last week when that kid killed the other kid. I was there right as it all got shut down.”
“They were friends, too!”
I said, “WHAT?”
“Yeah. He intervened to break up the fight, and boom. All three of ‘em were friends, just horsin’ around. Kid was eighteen years old, jus’ ‘bout to graduate. And now, it's like they both dead now.”
“Oh my goodness. That’s a heartbreaker. I had no idea they were buddies. He just got in there to break it up!”
“Yeah.”
“Like any reasonable person. Oh, man, that's heavy.”
“And Garfield’s a Magnet school!”
He'd read my mind. “Exactly Garfield that's one of our best schools!! I mean shootings shouldn't be happening anywhere, but they definitely don't happen at Garfield. It's Garfield!”
And then it was time to answer someone’s question, how to get to the Trailside Apartments, route 24. I heard Sho on his phone: “I be there in a couple minutes. Ah ran into my buddy from the bus line. Nate from South Gate! Yeah!”
Sometimes the fact that Life has to keep going on feels insulting. Why can't the whole world pause, and take stock of itself? Sometimes you just want to sit and watch the rain. A young life was pointlessly wiped out. Where is the space for the paralysis we feel?
But eventually life begins calling out to us, calling us back into the fray. It happens gradually. The grocery list. Phone calls, errands. Then friends. Maybe Life’s continuous, nigh-maddening onward march is exactly what we need. What are we to do, but learn and move forward? Do we stay paralyzed, or do we tend with care to those who are still around?
We will choose to help them. We will tell them how to get to the Trailside Apartments. It's about the person next to us.
I know that's what gotten me through my own hard times, comfortable though they are by comparison. Receiving that energy from others, but most of all giving it out, or trying to. Love. It is a thing we attempt, a verb, a project, and finally a noun that we acquire by giving away, giving it all away, all the time.
Tending to the living. These can be the first steps.
“Sho Luv!!!” I exclaimed, as he stood before me at Third and Columbia, a resurrected friend from my bygone 358 days. "Oh my goodness!!!"
He burst wide with a grin, the same grin he's always had, the kind of beaming smirk you feel is letting you in on a secret. Maybe he shares that with me because we hail from the same neighborhood in South Central LA, South Gate. I exclaimed, “I'm so happy to see you!"
Sho Luv was too, and told me about recently seeing a driver just like me, getting his keys replaced, and other sundries of the morning.
He settled in, sprawling out in the front side seats. Reflecting. “Last I seen you I think you was goin’ through a breakup,” he said. “Did you end up findin’ someone new?”
I was impressed by his memory. (I'm just the bus driver!) The reality of the mess he alluded to was, and remains, too complicated to sum up in a sentence. You've been there. I’m in a better place now than I was, and by way of so intimating I said aloud, “I sure did!”
He cackled. “Ah knew you would! Tha’s my dude! I knew it, you're still young….”
“Your prophecy was correct!”
“They say when somethin’ is taken away from you, the next thing to come around’ll be that much better.”
“You know it! It's just so hard to see in the moment, right?”
“Yeah, you were in deep feelin’ it. I remember. I used to call you Chris but your name is Nate, right?”
“Yeah!”
“Nate the Great!”
“Exactly, Nate the Great. I'm not that great though!”
He moved to deboard, here at 3rd and Pike (or simply "Ross,” as we call it out here), but changed his mind upon seeing the melee outside, which was a touch worse than the already unsightly norm.
“Naw, I'll go to Virginia.”
“Let's go to Virginia. Let all this mess die down a little.”
He was looking outside. “What d’you make of all these zombies?”
Maybe the term sounds derogatory from the remove of an office or home armchair. I know how using the right vocabulary is of utmost importance in today's more educated circles, and I appreciate such well-meaning value. But things work differently out here on the street. We find ourselves putting greater emphasis on action. The words don't have to be so perfect. If you spend enough time at “the Blade," not passing through it or going around it or reading about it but in it, Sho Luv’s intention reveals itself as less pejorative than mere descriptor: a blend of observation, sarcasm, dejection and concern. These are buddies of ours out here.
“It's crazy,” I replied. “Yeah back then, that was, I was doin’ the E Line, it was the breakup, and it was pandemic, lockdown…”
“That was the bad time. Everybody so dePRESSed.”
“That was rough. All of it mixed together, I couldn't see straight.”
“Whole city falling apart. And now we got all these zombies, kids killin’ kids, killin’ themselves, I don't even know.”
“You know, I was driving this route, past Garfield last week when that kid killed the other kid. I was there right as it all got shut down.”
“They were friends, too!”
I said, “WHAT?”
“Yeah. He intervened to break up the fight, and boom. All three of ‘em were friends, just horsin’ around. Kid was eighteen years old, jus’ ‘bout to graduate. And now, it's like they both dead now.”
“Oh my goodness. That’s a heartbreaker. I had no idea they were buddies. He just got in there to break it up!”
“Yeah.”
“Like any reasonable person. Oh, man, that's heavy.”
“And Garfield’s a Magnet school!”
He'd read my mind. “Exactly Garfield that's one of our best schools!! I mean shootings shouldn't be happening anywhere, but they definitely don't happen at Garfield. It's Garfield!”
And then it was time to answer someone’s question, how to get to the Trailside Apartments, route 24. I heard Sho on his phone: “I be there in a couple minutes. Ah ran into my buddy from the bus line. Nate from South Gate! Yeah!”
Sometimes the fact that Life has to keep going on feels insulting. Why can't the whole world pause, and take stock of itself? Sometimes you just want to sit and watch the rain. A young life was pointlessly wiped out. Where is the space for the paralysis we feel?
But eventually life begins calling out to us, calling us back into the fray. It happens gradually. The grocery list. Phone calls, errands. Then friends. Maybe Life’s continuous, nigh-maddening onward march is exactly what we need. What are we to do, but learn and move forward? Do we stay paralyzed, or do we tend with care to those who are still around?
We will choose to help them. We will tell them how to get to the Trailside Apartments. It's about the person next to us.
I know that's what gotten me through my own hard times, comfortable though they are by comparison. Receiving that energy from others, but most of all giving it out, or trying to. Love. It is a thing we attempt, a verb, a project, and finally a noun that we acquire by giving away, giving it all away, all the time.
Tending to the living. These can be the first steps.
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