Bus Stories ...

I decided to take Greyhound bus to Indy to visit "The Parents." The bus/train ride through Amtrak makes it not so bad. I take the bus to Indy and take the train back to Chicago.

While waiting for the bus at Union Station, I receive great satisfaction from watching the art of the hustle. Young men run up on gullible travelers looking to avoid the overwhelming task of grabbing a taxi. "You need a taxi."

"Yes!" (I want to say don't trust them, but I can't stop an entrepreneur at work. Isn't this capitalism, right or wrong?)

And then I watch them being led to a taxi they could simply have walked out and grabbed themselves.

After each conquest, I'd see the guys counting their bills. Tax-free income! Wonder if they know about the stimulus package?

Chicago's finest gave them a group lecture on not hustling the poor tourists at Union Station; they listened and then the moment he finished his missive, they were, yep, right back it again.

I later overheard a guy on the bus talking about how he got the same hustle -- "a fundraiser" -- for something bogus from two different people. He laughed that they didn't have their game together.

Every time I take the bus I think of the Great Migration trips from Indy to Mississippi growing up. The bus was such a drag. You never knew who boarded the bus and if they had thought about refreshing themselves before sitting next to you.

My favorite bus story was when I was traveling with my cousin Diane to Mississippi. I met up with her in St. Louis. We sat near the back and watched people barricade the bus door. They were out of control; they had to get on the bus to see their Southern kin.

This time I have Perry, the bus driver, who provides running commentary the moment we leave the bus station. He blows in the microphone every time he starts up a conversation. The bus was through all the way to Atlanta. Fortunately, the passengers don't have to endure him all the way there. He gets off in Nashville.

He talked about being allergic to fragrances and his wife, the Chicago Skyway and his interpretation on why Daley sold its rights, public housing and on a lighter note, the two swans swimming in water along the skyway, near the dirty industrial plants. And oh, if you need to smoke, don't blow smoke in his face when re-entering the bus after a pit stop. And if you want to indulge in a controlled substance, don't think about it and keep it your pocket.

His final question to me as I disembarked the bus once arriving in Indy: How old are you? huh? What possessed him to even talk to me and let alone ask a question. My response, "Old enough!"

Guess what? That started another conversation. I just smiled and kept on moving away with my roll-away bag.

Election Day

This is such a historic day. I am on pins and needles. Is Obama going to win or is he going to lose?My neighborhood has changed. There is a no-fly zone and they have block my street off since I live only block away from him. Today I couldn't even walk by his house on the sidewalk, whereas yesterday I could. What a difference a day makes. 

Who knew I would be living nearby possibly the next president of the United States. 

I am going to print an e-mail I sent out to friends recalling the first time I heard Obama's name. And guess what? I couldn't pronounce it at first. 

As someone who lives just blocks from Obama here in Chicago, it's exciting to see this day. I can remember the first time I heard his name here at my church. He was running for the U.S. Senate. At the time, I couldn't support his effort because I worked for the newspaper. But when he won the seat, a colleague of mine and I agreed he was someone to watch. 

A year or two after his run for the Senate I heard him speak at a luncheon in Chicago against the Iraq War. He was succinct in his argument and gracious in his delivery. His speech had a beginning, a middle and an end. Who knew then I would see this day. 

I voted early in the South Side on Cottage Grove and waited three hours. I said my prayer for him and his family and hope America is ready for this change. I know the world is. I heard a man shout Obama's name to me in Greece. And judging from my hours at the unemployment office Monday, I know people want to work and live out the American dream. I know I do. His success shows the possibility is within reach. 

Lisa 

Islam in Spain ... and other thoughts

The Humanities Festival and the Art Institute of Chicago hosted a lecture with historian David Levering Lewis Saturday. I felt I needed to invigorate my gray cells with intellectual pursuit. The discussion, moderated by Leslie Stahl (I love her on "60 Minutes"), focused on his book, God's Crucible: Islam and the Making of Europe, 570-1215.

The mark of a compelling book is its beginning ... "Islam rose when Rome fell," he writes in his first line. Here's a blurb from Publisher's Weekly on the book ... on Amazon. http://www.amazon.com/Gods-Crucible-Making-Europe-570-1215/dp/0393333566/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1225602865&sr=8-1

On unemployment ... ran into a highly educated woman at the lecture who's now among those of us looking for work. She told me of those who complain about their jobs and found it disconcerting. We agreed ... be grateful if you have a job and it's honest.

I spent my three hours at the unemployment office in mid-October, and she and I both agreed it's a humbling experience. We were among those with no skills and no options. We know one world where education and career converge.

Another guest mentioned The Secret, which I just read. A friend, who had been laid off years ago and was motivated to start her own business, gave it to me as a gift. Positive energy and thinking keeps me from going "in the dark corner."

How are others coping during this economic downturn? Please share ...