Nodding and weaving
Another day is over at the office. The ankle chain is removed and stowed carefully for tomorrow. The telephone ring can be safely ignored, as emergencies never happen after quitting time. In fact, that’s why the employer provides voicemail as part of the benefit package. Pens down, computer off; coat, tuque, scarf, mitts – protection from the air-conditioning in the office – all nicely arranged. It’s time to head home.
Here is the moment that separates the pampered from the many. Snoozing. I climb aboard my subsidized public transit, take one of those seats built in Orillia and close my eyes. No more worries for the next twenty minutes (transfer point) and then I can go back to sleep for phase two of the ride, waking on cue when my home is close. In fact, I’ve only slept through once in the last two decades, so the system works.
Now let’s examine the other alternative. I could be providing my own transportation, subsidizing the public purse with license fees and road taxes, fuel taxes, fines for inattention, on and on. And imagine the havoc if I decided to sleep while behind the wheel. Wouldn’t that keep the other drivers on their toes? Because let’s face it; the driver in his car with whatever on the radio is no more awake than me (in my bus seat). We’ve done a similar day’s work (perhaps) and we’re all getting less sleep than we should at night (watching late night talk shows).
The difference is that those of us on the bus are keeping the rest of you safe. We could be out there, weaving back and forth as we nod off in the hypnotic ebb and flow of rush hour traffic. The next time my bus cuts you off in the chicane of the autoroute, just wave and smile. Say thanks because I’m sleeping up there in the third window instead of operating a moving vehicle while drowsy. If you like, leave the car at home and join us; we love the company.
