Obviously with Rusty deceased and departed I am left with the joys of the West Midlands Public Transport system; and bumming rides every chance I get. My friends at work that live near me have been incredibly generous going out of their way to pick me up in the morning or get me at least to Dudley after work so I only have to get one bus home instead of two. Namely Becky and Jackie, so I thank you both!
I am quite fond of the train system in England, to be honest, and would happily be a train commuter all the time but in my need to get from Sedgley to Dudley each day it’s bus or nothing. There is an interesting culture on the bus. If I manage to catch the same bus each morning, there are the same people each day. Some arrive on the bus with smiles that know each other and have their morning chat. Then there are the kids on their way to school, playing their music too loud forcing me to put my head phones on to drone out the crap dance music. Although I'm my usual friendly self who smiles at random old people and children and more than happy to strike a conversation if one presents itself, I’m more often on the bus one of those that find a corner seat, that’s hopefully not too dirty or smelly (although that can be hard to avoid) and hide out with my book and/or music. That is the one strength of public transportation (Of course, besides the whole helping the environment stuff)- being able to read loads and listen to the music I want to listen to, and not being stuck with what’s on the radio like I was with Rusty.
So this leads me to my top four bands (this week) to listen to on the bus:
2. Peeping Tom
3. Broken Social Scene
Although, I would like to relay a caveat about Devotchka. This morning they almost made me cry in public on the bus with ‘How it Ends.’ But as I came home tonight, they provided some retribution with the drum beats of ‘The Oblivion’ in synchronization with the beats of my heart, followed by the energy of Eastern European rhythms in ‘Death By Blonde,’ parading into the romantic swooning of Queen of the Surface Street, leaving me to think some boy might feel like that about me one of these days and leading me right into Sedgley High Street. Thank you Bus Driver for getting me home safe! Now where’s that Friday bottle of Pinot? The week is gone; it’s time to crack it open!