Today started out to be one of the worse and most stressful days of my life. I work as a writer for a magazine, and I’m required to come up with a new story every two weeks. But unfortunately, I have been experiencing one of the most difficult writing blocks I’ve ever had.

I only have three days left to come up with a story and write it, and then submit it to my boss. I’ve been warned that if it is late, they will be letting me go. Because I’ve had this block for the past six months. And I’ve only skated by the skin of my teeth. The more I try to come up with an idea, the worse it gets.

And then, about a week ago, it occurred to me that I needed to get out of my office and go out and experience the world. And I hoped that I’ll be inspired by someone or something. And I remembered that when I was going to college, I used to take the public bus back and forth from my parent’s house to Philadelphia every day. And the characters I used to see and talk to and the stories I overheard were fascinating. And that is when I decided that from now on, whenever possible, I would travel by train or bus.

And so, on Monday morning, I headed down to the bus stop to catch the 317 bus to Philadelphia. I live on the New Jersey side of the Ben Franklin Bridge, and it‘s only about a twenty-five-minute ride to Philly. I was psyched. It took me back to my college days.

Here I was, standing on the corner of Main Street, sitting on the bench, waiting for the bus to arrive. It was due in the next ten minutes. There were two other people waiting at the bus stop when I arrived at the corner. They were deep in a discussion about whether the Courier Post or the Philadelphia Inquirer was the best newspaper. They didn’t seem to notice that I was even there.

It was the end of October, and the air was a bit chilly. I hoped it would warm up by mid-day. Since I planned on taking the bus back and forth to work and perhaps taking the trolley around downtown Philly. I hoped I would have the opportunity to buy a soft pretzel while I was out and about. I hadn’t had one in years since I attended the Main campus of Temple University as a college student.

After the two older men agreed that both newspapers were decent papers. They started a new discussion about who would win the Super Bowl the Eagles or the Steelers. It seemed as if this debate might come to blows. But luckily, our bus showed up, and we all climbed aboard. I have to admit buses had improved since I graduated from college fifteen years ago. I sat down and watched out the window while the scenery passed by in a blur.

We were approaching the Airport Circle and headed toward the Ben Franklin Bridge towards Philly. The bus was almost full now, and most people were quietly reading the newspaper, or they had headphones on and were listening to music or the news.

As we were crossing the Ben Franklin Bridge, I looked out the window and down at the ships that were below. It really was a beautiful sight from above the Delaware River. As I leaned forward to get a better look, I overheard an older man and woman sitting in front of me, talking to each other. The old man said, ” so how have you been keeping yourself, Maeve? “Oh, fine, just fine. I have a little problem with arthritis. You know, getting up out of the tub or the toilet and sometimes the chair I watch TV in. Oh, I have gas, too, from eating too many spicy Tacos last night.

” Yeah, I noticed that, Maeve. It’s a bit overwhelming to tell you the truth. Maybe you could take something for it?’ Oh, also, I was wondering if you heard how Old Tony is doing. I heard that he’s not doing too well. “Oh, you did. Well, he died, so there’s that. But, it will happen to us all eventually. No point whining about it.”

“Dear god, you could have been a little less blunt about it. Christ on a cracker. When’s the funeral?”

“Well, he was cremated the day of.”

“What do you mean he was cremated the day of?”

“Well, what do you think? The day he dropped dead, that’s when.”

Then they both sighed and went back to staring out the windows at the murky waters below. As I thought about their conversation, I wondered if I, too, would grow used to hearing that my old friends were dropping like flies. It gave me the heebie-jeebies. I leaned back in my seat. And I remembered something my grandmother used to say, “life is a struggle, suffer, and then you die.” I heard myself sigh. I decided to change seats as soon as one of the passengers got off the bus.

I found a seat sitting behind two teenage boys of high school age. I thought I might hear them discussing sports of some kind. The skinny kid on the right says, “what are you talking about a swan is not a bird. Birds fly. They don’t swim.” And then the other kid said, “what the hell are you talking about? Of course, it’s a bird. Lots of birds swim, including ducks and pelicans, and geese. Boy, you are as dumb as they come.”

I began to wonder what kind of education our school children are receiving in America. I hoped some schools were doing a better job than the school these two were attending. I began to worry about the future of our country when their generation grew up.

And just as I was thinking about that, the bus pulled over to pick up another passenger. And I couldn’t believe my eyes. He was the biggest man I’ve ever seen. Not just tall but wide.

In fact, as I saw him ascend the four steps, he started breathing hard, really hard. I thought he might have had a stroke before he got on the bus and paid his fare. He finally reached the summit and was unable to say anything to the bus driver since he was breathing so hard and his face was red like a beet.

I noticed everyone on the bus was staring at the man. Some faces showed fear. Some had their mouths wide open with fascination that such a man existed and moving. And then a couple in the back started laughing. I mean real belly laughs. The big man said nothing. He managed to hand his fare over to the bus driver. We all waited to see what he would do next.

He awkwardly turned to the aisle. And I did not think it was physically possible for him and his amazingly wide girth to fit in the bus aisle, let alone walk down the aisle. I feared he would get stuck. The bus driver turned his head to watch the man’s progress. There was one seat open all the way in the back. The giant turned sideways and sidestepped his way all the way to the empty seat and plopped down onto it. There was a loud farting noise emitted from the bus seat. And the gas that escaped from the compressed seat traveled all the way up the center aisle. It was so noxious that I felt we all might die at once. Only to be found at some later time when the bus caused a back-up of traffic. I could just imagine the headlines, “GIANT MAN KILLS ALL THE PHILLY BOUND PASSENGERS ON THEIR WAY TO WORK WITH ENORMOUS FART. A VIGIL WILL BE HELD IN THEIR HONOR ON FRIDAY EVENING IN FRONT OF THE ART MUSEUM. A MAN WHO PASSED WAS A WELL-KNOWN ARTIST IN THE PHILADELPHIA AREA. HE WILL BE MISSED.”

As I sat there thinking about this, I let out a laugh at my own clever thoughts. All of a sudden, I felt the eyes of all my fellow passengers glaring at me with disdain. I felt my face turn red, but then I felt a sudden urge to laugh. And I couldn’t hold it in. I started laughing, and the more I laugh, the louder I got.

And then I heard someone else laughing and then another until everyone on the whole bus was laughing. And then we heard an enormously loud guffaw. We turned as one and looked in the direction of the sound. It was the GIANT. And then we all laughed again. It was hard to stop, like a sudden cough that makes you cough and cough until you started having trouble breathing all together.

I heard the bus driver say, “OK, folks, we all had a good laugh. Let’s be on our way now.”
And that, folks, is how I started getting over my writer’s block. Because I started living one day at a time. And appreciating the good things in my life and stop taking it all so seriously. Life is short, so live large, be happy, and take one day at a time.

 

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