Shoot up yesterday on the train. A real scrappy looking kid with wild, electric black eyes, lank, matted hair, dirty and skinny as a rail. He asked me the time really politely. I told him it was 6:50. He thanked me and then proceeded to pull his filthy jacket over him like a tent and go to work with his gear. Took me back to my days living in San Francisco where I would see people do that all the time on the sidewalk. Ah, waxing nostalgic. I had to move away seats though…didn’t want to get sprayed or something. Ew. 

Later, I overheard the guy who sells Ho Hos and Twizzlers between Firestone and 7th Street stations tell a regular customer a story about trying to sell some candy to a couple of big scary looking guys. They turned him down and told him to “keep stepping”. He said he was walking away when he heard the bigger and scarier of the two yell out, “Get your ass back here N%##a!” He stopped and turned around and they guy was walking towards him reaching into his pocket. He said he thought he was gonna get stabbed but the guy brought out a five dollar bill, crumpled it up an threw it into his candy bin. The big guy then said, “Now get your ass off this train at the next stop.” And that, according to him, is just what he did, five dollars richer. 

A little lapel pin cross wrapped up in a paper package and then walked away. I looked down at it and noticed some text on the front of the package. It read, “The Light of this Cross will Keep Jesus With You Always.” It had a tiny little fake diamond where the two parts of the cross meet. I thought, how nice, that guy just gives little crosses away to people. I flipped it over in my hand and noticed more text on the back of the package. I read it, “Sorry to bother you. I’m selling these crosses for a dollar each. I’m deaf so I can’t hear you speak. God be with you.” I looked up and he was back, gesturing for a dollar. I handed him back his cross.

Later, I saw a man riding a western saddled horse along the tracks just outside of Watts like some throwback from the itinerant old west. He had a bed roll, a canteen, a wide brim hat and I noticed he was squinting against the blood red setting sun as we passed. I craned my neck to make sure I was really seeing him and I caught one last glimpse of him, slouched in his saddle, silhouetted against a giant silver and orange graffiti bomb…and then he was gone. 

It was an eventful ride today on the Blue line. It started with a delay on my connection from the Red Line that forced me to wait underground at the MacArthur Park station for about 30 minutes. I spent most of this time shoulder to shoulder with a man carrying two giants filthy stuffed animal rabbits, one under each arm. He kept hissing in my ear, “You don’t even know the difference between ginger bread and ginger snaps.” I was saved when the trains showed mercy by starting to move again — just as his mantra on my ignorance towards all things ginger started to grow in both frequency and urgency. I saw him as we pulled out screaming, “Ginger bread! Ginger snaps!”, the heads of his rabbits lolling crazily on their stuffed animal necks as if he’d spent the morning hunting in some cartoon land filled with grime-streaked, oversized stuffed animal game.

After that, I saved a man’s life. Straight up. I saved a life today. I know it’s April Fool’s Day, but I swear this is true. I was standing at the Imperial/Washington station when I noticed the train approaching. Just then a young man dropped his cell phone down onto the tracks. To my astonishment, he hopped down into the track well to pick it up. He then attempted to vault himself back up onto the platform, but his execution was off…and he badly failed. His legs hit too low and he basically flipped backwards, falling 5 feet straight back down onto the tracks. His back landed right on one of the rails where he lay there, apparently knocked out. I ran over and yelled, “Get up!” and he stirred. And with the train bearing down 150 meters out, he finally scraped himself off the ground and sort of scrabbled over to the wall where I grabbed his outstretched arms and pulled him to safety. I think another guy had his other arm. After that, I got on the train and made it to work…on time. 

This morning on the Blue Line, somewhere south of the Slauson stop I’m fairly certain I saw a fully mature timber wolf standing alone in the knee-high weeds of an abandoned parking lot. It was just staring at the train as it passed. I swear to god our eyes met for a few seconds, ice-blue, and then it broke off, wheeled around and loped off at an easy trot for the back of the lot.

What a long-legged majestic creature. I wonder what it was doing in South Central LA?Anyways, if i see it again I think I’ll name it “Mr. Peanuts”. Maybe I can even befriend him with treats of beef jerky and hot dogs, but I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. I’m just blessed to have witnessed him today.

And, oh yeah… if you have a baby or kid and you live near the Slauson stop on the Blue Line, probably want to keep them in the house for a few days. I imagine that wolf would steal a fat baby faster than you can say, “Holy crap, that’s a wolf.” 

Where all the houses still have Christmas decorations. Nowhere else. Just this one block, fully decked out…for Christmas. Lights, Santas on the roof, snowmen, wreaths on doors. Since it’s April, this block is very curious to me. Very curious indeed.  

After riding the blue line for a while I think I have a pretty good idea of which different gangs claim territory along the line. Now I’m no expert, so don’t get all beanie weanie if your in a gang and also a big fan of this blog and I leave your gang off the list. All I can say is that you should probably get busy with the spray paint can and make your gang a little more recognizable to the average metro passerby.

Moving away from downtown towards south central it seems to go like this as far as gangs: 

1) 38th Street 

2) Florencia 13

3) Pueblo Bishop Bloods

4) Oriental Lazy Boyz

5) Avalon Crips

6) 109s

Now that’s what I’ve seen from reading the walls, but, like I said, I’m sure I’m missing a lot. Now, here’s the real question. Which one should I join? I’ll probably organize a get to know you day meet and greet where I invite some of the fellas over for my chili and a Law and Order marathon so we can see if there’s a fit. 

Actually, in all truth, most of the people along this line seem like real, honest, hardworking people that keep up their homes and take pride in their neighborhoods. I’m sure there are gangsters out there, but I get the feeling they are outnumbered by regular folks trying to get by and make ends meet. 

I admit it. I was running for a train. I know the signs tell you that safe Metro riders never run for trains, but those people’s parents probably aren’t visiting from the Midwest and they probably don’t have to get two days of work done by noon when they’re supposed to meet those parents to show them the splendors of LA. Anyway, while I was running my sunglasses flew off and shattered on the tile floor. I scooped up the pieces and kept lurching towards those doors and just as I was getting close, really feeling hopeful, they slid shut. I locked eyes with an elderly Korean lady sitting just inside the train. She looked disgusted that I didn’t make a better effort as the train slid off down the tube, out of the 7th street station and up into the light of a brand new day. Just then I noticed I was on the wrong side of the platform meaning I’d missed the wrong train. Over on the Long Beach side, a new train was just pulling in. Time to run again.