For those of you who are unable to or are just loathe to give up their favorite internal combustion driven mode of transportation, riding the light rail to work is an absolute blessing. Sure, I have to be out of the house extra early, but the ride never changes: forty-five minutes from the Oakest of Cliffs and then back again in the afternoon. It’s like riding in a car with forty of your best buddies, none of whom want to talk and someone else is always driving.
See? How great is that?
Oh, but don’t fall asleep.
I’m in the first car today. We’re in the tunnel between Cityplace and Mockingbird. I can see, in the distance, a small blue-gray circle that marks the end of the tunnel. It is hopeful.
At the Lovers’ Lane station, I notice a man sitting behind me who’s wearing an Oakland Raiders jacket and a Dallas Stars cap. Divided loyalties or convenient clothing?