I have a confession. I want my blog to get noticed by Steve Hymon, the Los Angeles Times transportation writer. I'm not sure why, besides the obvious narcissism. He wrote a weekly column in the California section that was near and dear to my heart, Rode Sage (always liked that name). Then the Times kicked him to the blogosphere where he writes the Bottleneck Blog, which I can relate to more often than I care to admit. He's blogging about traffic, mass transit, gas prices ... I'm blogging about traffic, mass transit, gas prices. OK, so he's a veteran Times reporter and I'm, well, new to this whole blogging thing (but hey Steve, I am a former reporter). I feel a synergy in our missions so I just want him to know I'm out there, like I know he's out there, writing posts with the word "dude" in them. Maybe it's that casual tone that he gets to use on his blog that makes me feel like I know him and, by extension, makes me think he'd like to read my blog.
But don't you worry, I'm not sitting on my laurels waiting for him to find me at urbandieter.blogspot.com (need that repeated Steve? That was ur-ban-diet-er-dot-blog-spot-dot-com). Yesterday I commented on his post, which was about the most random and trivial of things: the loud gum chewer behind him on the train (the "dude"). "This happened to me too" I began. He had no comments yet, so being one of the first ones to comment will surely help me get his attention, right? When I filled out the form it asked for my name, e-mail address and URL. URL? Uh, not sure what that means since most people don't have URLs but what the heck, I'll just type in my little ol' blog address. And voilà, one step closer to being discovered.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
I wish I were this cool
So as noted in my previous posts, I spend a lot of time in my car. And my favorite in-car activity is listening to NPR talk shows. Coming home from the gym last week I caught Talk of the Nation and the topic was about two things I care about: the green movement and the youth voice. Halfway through the show, which had as a guest Robert Redford, a teenager performed a slam poem she wrote about global warming. It was amazing! I couldn't believe she wrote that as a teen, and this coming from someone who has a lot of faith in teenagers' abilities since I work with teens in my job. She didn't rattle off boring statistics but told a story about this little girl she babysits (and being scared by the "global warming" game the girl played). I don't want to give any more away, I just highly recommend you listen. It's an example of great storytelling and of how the younger generation is growing up with the fear of global warming as part of their everyday life. But unlike the hole in the ozone layer that was the crisis of my teenage years, this problem doesn't have a simple and manageable fix. Scary stuff indeed.
To listen, go to http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=92584973 and click on Listen Now. It starts at 12:30 into the broadcast.
To listen, go to http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=92584973 and click on Listen Now. It starts at 12:30 into the broadcast.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Dear Bus Driver: Thank you
Maybe I'm a sucker, but if a stranger says good evening to me, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
"Good evening." That's what my bus driver said today when I got off the bus. That was a first. Most bus drivers don't speak to you at all, and then there are the ones who aren't very nice or drive so aggressive it's scary. She was the nicest bus driver I've come across, by far. She was even nice to the people causing her trouble.
This was the 316 fast bus, which skips some stops that the 16 makes. We stopped at a red light and some people tried to get off the bus at a 16 stop. "This isn't a stop," she said. "You can't get off here. You need to read the signs when you get on." Then she let them off or they pushed the door open anyway, and she still ended her lecture with "thank you."
She elicited thank yous from almost everyone who got off the bus. Some had a specific reason to be courteous, like the guy who has asked what stop was closest to the 16 stop he usually gets off at, but others hadn't said a word to her but still said thank you when they got off the bus. All I can figure is that it was an unspoken acknowledgment for making their bus ride a pleasant experience, for infusing the bus with a "lets all get along" vibe. Well, she had me at hello (actually she said good afternoon when I got on the bus). So when I got off downtown with only a few passengers remaining on the bus, I felt bold and yelled "thank you" from the rear exit.
I e-mailed MTA customer service tonight to let them know how pleasant and respectful she was. I didn't get her name but I told them the route and time so hopefully they can look up who was driving. She deserves some recognition because Metro needs more drivers like that. It would be great to have that kind of experience all the time because it really did put me in a better mood.
"Good evening." That's what my bus driver said today when I got off the bus. That was a first. Most bus drivers don't speak to you at all, and then there are the ones who aren't very nice or drive so aggressive it's scary. She was the nicest bus driver I've come across, by far. She was even nice to the people causing her trouble.
This was the 316 fast bus, which skips some stops that the 16 makes. We stopped at a red light and some people tried to get off the bus at a 16 stop. "This isn't a stop," she said. "You can't get off here. You need to read the signs when you get on." Then she let them off or they pushed the door open anyway, and she still ended her lecture with "thank you."
She elicited thank yous from almost everyone who got off the bus. Some had a specific reason to be courteous, like the guy who has asked what stop was closest to the 16 stop he usually gets off at, but others hadn't said a word to her but still said thank you when they got off the bus. All I can figure is that it was an unspoken acknowledgment for making their bus ride a pleasant experience, for infusing the bus with a "lets all get along" vibe. Well, she had me at hello (actually she said good afternoon when I got on the bus). So when I got off downtown with only a few passengers remaining on the bus, I felt bold and yelled "thank you" from the rear exit.
I e-mailed MTA customer service tonight to let them know how pleasant and respectful she was. I didn't get her name but I told them the route and time so hopefully they can look up who was driving. She deserves some recognition because Metro needs more drivers like that. It would be great to have that kind of experience all the time because it really did put me in a better mood.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Who's in charge of this nut house?
The danger (or benefit, depending on how you look at it) of people knowing I have an environmental blog is that whenever I tell a story I get asked, "Are you going to blog about it?", which just reminds me that I should and if I don't, it's because I'm being lazy. So, to clear my conscious, here's a story about today's commute, with the theme: who's in charge of this nut house?
Things started off great. I left work early with a four-day holiday weekend ahead of me. After waiting seven minutes or so, the bus approaches, and it's the fast 316. I pull out my day pass, stand near the curb and "hail" the bus in the way I've seen others do it -- not raising my arm like I'm hailing a taxi, but subtly pointing my arm out toward the ground. Well, apparently I should have been more obvious. The bus zoomed right on by. I understand when buses don't stop because they literally don't have room for one more passenger, but I saw standing room. There was room for me. I text a friend in anger. Then after five minutes or so, the slow 16 comes by and picks me up. This bus is full too and it's the usual rush hour dance -- I hold the strap and sway to the rhythm of the road, then more space opens up farther back and I move, only to be in the way of a woman exiting the bus. Then I'm in the way again and keep moving back. It lightens up after Western and I finally sit.
But the first half of my commute was just the appetizer. Things got more fun when I got downtown. At the 7th Street Metro Station, I turned the corner to go down the stairs to the Blue Line platform and saw a mass of people on my platform. What are they all doing here? Now that's a photo for people who think no one takes the train. Before I felt the need to ask a stranger what was going on, they announce that a train is coming. Oh god, I thought, there's going to be a riot. They made another announcement, this time saying that three trains were coming within minutes of each other and not everyone was going to fit on the first train. I don't have much faith in people (individual people yes, but in a group they turn tribal), and sure enough, tons of people squeezed onto the first train like sardines, leaving those of us still on the platform to haughtily laugh at their shortsightedness.
The next train came a few minutes later and I got on. I spent most of the ride standing in the corner behind a guy with a bike with nowhere to grip. Inevitably, at a big lurch he fell back into me and I put my hand on his back to stop him (thankfully he wasn't sweaty or smelly, which is quite common on the train). He apologized but I said it was OK because I saw it as me helping him not fall over. We all have to work together here, people. Which leads me to the most interesting part of the ride. At the Florence stop a guy jumped on as soon as the doors opened and blocked the people who wanted to get off. Bike Guy yelled at him but he acted like nothing was wrong. So there I was squished against the wall, with Bike Guy in front of me and now Rude Guy pushing up against us as a dozen people squeezed past to get off the train. Oh hey, did I mention taking public transportation is just swell. Everyone should do it!
I can laugh about this because I was in a good mood. But if this had been a normal Thursday, I might have given Rude Guy a piece of my mind. OK, I'm totally not that person. I probably would have been crying on the inside by the time I got home, then washed away the pain with some chocolate. What I did do was tell my friend, to which she replied, "Are you going to blog about it?"
Things started off great. I left work early with a four-day holiday weekend ahead of me. After waiting seven minutes or so, the bus approaches, and it's the fast 316. I pull out my day pass, stand near the curb and "hail" the bus in the way I've seen others do it -- not raising my arm like I'm hailing a taxi, but subtly pointing my arm out toward the ground. Well, apparently I should have been more obvious. The bus zoomed right on by. I understand when buses don't stop because they literally don't have room for one more passenger, but I saw standing room. There was room for me. I text a friend in anger. Then after five minutes or so, the slow 16 comes by and picks me up. This bus is full too and it's the usual rush hour dance -- I hold the strap and sway to the rhythm of the road, then more space opens up farther back and I move, only to be in the way of a woman exiting the bus. Then I'm in the way again and keep moving back. It lightens up after Western and I finally sit.
But the first half of my commute was just the appetizer. Things got more fun when I got downtown. At the 7th Street Metro Station, I turned the corner to go down the stairs to the Blue Line platform and saw a mass of people on my platform. What are they all doing here? Now that's a photo for people who think no one takes the train. Before I felt the need to ask a stranger what was going on, they announce that a train is coming. Oh god, I thought, there's going to be a riot. They made another announcement, this time saying that three trains were coming within minutes of each other and not everyone was going to fit on the first train. I don't have much faith in people (individual people yes, but in a group they turn tribal), and sure enough, tons of people squeezed onto the first train like sardines, leaving those of us still on the platform to haughtily laugh at their shortsightedness.
The next train came a few minutes later and I got on. I spent most of the ride standing in the corner behind a guy with a bike with nowhere to grip. Inevitably, at a big lurch he fell back into me and I put my hand on his back to stop him (thankfully he wasn't sweaty or smelly, which is quite common on the train). He apologized but I said it was OK because I saw it as me helping him not fall over. We all have to work together here, people. Which leads me to the most interesting part of the ride. At the Florence stop a guy jumped on as soon as the doors opened and blocked the people who wanted to get off. Bike Guy yelled at him but he acted like nothing was wrong. So there I was squished against the wall, with Bike Guy in front of me and now Rude Guy pushing up against us as a dozen people squeezed past to get off the train. Oh hey, did I mention taking public transportation is just swell. Everyone should do it!
I can laugh about this because I was in a good mood. But if this had been a normal Thursday, I might have given Rude Guy a piece of my mind. OK, I'm totally not that person. I probably would have been crying on the inside by the time I got home, then washed away the pain with some chocolate. What I did do was tell my friend, to which she replied, "Are you going to blog about it?"
Sunday, June 15, 2008
David Lazarus takes the bus
First it was reusable grocery bags that went from eccentric hippie status to cool. Now it's taking the bus. I keep reading stories by reporters about their experience with taking public transportation. The latest is today's column by Los Angeles Times business columnist David Lazarus (who does great work), about his week of taking public transporation to work, experimenting each day with different bus lines and the subway to find out which is quickest and easiest. (As a sidenote: Sadly, each article I read has a higher gas price. His begins, "With the price of gas creeping toward $5 a gallon ...")
I agree with most of his observations, except when he says he arrived home exhausted on the first day. Sure, it's tricky at first when you don't know the routes, but I think he should have mentioned that after you get the hang of it, it's actually more relaxing than driving. Maybe that wasn't his experience, but it's been mine. But I'm glad he wrote it as a way to get more Angelenos thinking about taking public transportation, at least one day a week as he suggests. To quote: "Baby steps."
I agree with most of his observations, except when he says he arrived home exhausted on the first day. Sure, it's tricky at first when you don't know the routes, but I think he should have mentioned that after you get the hang of it, it's actually more relaxing than driving. Maybe that wasn't his experience, but it's been mine. But I'm glad he wrote it as a way to get more Angelenos thinking about taking public transportation, at least one day a week as he suggests. To quote: "Baby steps."
Friday, June 13, 2008
A landfill of energy bar wrappers
Have you ever wondered if you could recycle the wrappers from energy bars? I have, and I know I'm not alone because it's a topic among my coworkers whenever someone eats an energy bar (which is often). Considering how popular these bars have become (remember when the chewy Power Bars in misleading chocolate and funky banana were all we had to choice from), I'd feel better knowing all those wrappers -- 20 billion according to one statistic I read -- don't have to go to a landfill.While on vacation I've decided to make it my mission to find out if these wrappers are recyclable. A few weeks ago my coworker gave it her best shot by e-mailing the makers of Luna Bar, but alas, they never responded. Yesterday I called the Long Beach recycling department and the woman on the other end answered my question by reading from a list I had already seen on their website. Yes, I know you can recycle bottles and cans, but what about the trickier stuff that isn't mentioned? So she guessed. She said that since the wrappers have foil, they aren't recyclable. I also asked about egg cartons (since I had her on the phone) and she thought they are recyclable since they're made of cardboard. I'm glad I went to an "expert" source.
Oh I know, just Google it, right? But that's so easy. I wanted to do it the official way. OK fine. A Google search for "Can I recycle energy bar wrappers?" turns up this sentence: "Every year millions of non-recyclable energy bar wrappers end up in our landfills." Damn. But wait, I click on a link to a program for recycling wrappers. Aha. I've found the Holy Grail!
The website http://www.terracycle.net/cbb/cbb.htm explains that TerraCycle, Clif Bar and Balance Bar have started a program to "upcycle" wrappers by making them into other things, like purses. They'll send you bags to put your wrappers in and after you've collected 200, you send them back. And the program is FREE. Where do I sign up? Screech ... my excitement grinds to a halt. After I sign up to be part of the Energy Bar Brigade (ain't that catchy) I get sent an e-mail saying I've been put on a waiting list. Despite the plethora of press they've received, it's a trial program with only 500 spots. (Although later I got an e-mail saying they're in the process of expanding.)
My search continues, while energy bar wrappers collect in my room ...
Today I returned to my Internet search. The website http://www.lime.com/blog/greenlagirl/2008/06/09/oh_things_you_can_upcycle%20says provides addresses where you can send wine corks and used Brita filters. But that's all I find. It appears the answer to my question is a big fat NO.
I know that the best solution is to eat less energy bars. I'm opposed to them for dietary reasons too. Every time I buy one I hear Michael Pollan's voice saying, "eat what your grandmother would eat," meaning simple, whole foods. But it's too hard to always have a whole food snack on hand when you're gone all day at work and exercising after work. Sometimes I just gotta have an energy bar.
So until I get my TerraCycle bags in the mail, I will try to buy fewer energy bars and eat more whole food snacks instead. That'll be easy while I'm on vacation. It'll get trickier when I go back to work.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
But global warming doesn't take vacation
I'm writing this while on vacation. For two weeks I can sleep in, be carefree, see family and friends and make a long list of things I will only partially accomplish. As I've been deciding how to spend my time, I've also been wondering how far I should go to have a "green" vacation. I'd only give myself a C.
The thing is, some changes are easy and don't require much sacrifice, like toting around reusable bags and recycling. Even taking public transportation to work is only a slight inconvenience. I'm still going to work -- that part hasn't changed -- I'm just leaving earlier (while arriving more relaxed and spending less money, so maybe it's actually slightly convenient). But what about changes that require a sacrifice? Should I be using public transportation while on vacation, instead of driving places? Should I even be going on a road trip to Palm Springs and Las Vegas (but of course I will)? Should I be using my bike more, since I have more time to get places?
On Monday a friend and I drove 40 miles to the Getty Villa, but how the heck would we have gotten there without driving? The bus would have taken ages. That's the frustration with ditching your car in sprawling LA -- it really limits you to what you can do. And even if getting there using public transportation is doable, I'm not yet comfortable with taking the train back to Long Beach at night.
Today during my leisurely breakfast, I read an article in the Times that said the effects of global warming from developed nations, including the U.S. (the largest producer of greenhouse gases), will be felt in Africa, which doesn't produce nearly as much pollution. I knew that already, but it was a reminder that global warming will hurt others before it hurts us. And yet here I am, resisting change because it might cause a little pain to my lifestyle. (I'd also recommend the Times' series on congestion. Yesterday's article featured a woman whose commute is five hours a day!)
I'll report back after my vacation with how I feel I did overall. As for today, I'm still average. I've driven a little bit around Long Beach, but later I'm going to bike to the gym, which I don't have time to do when I'm working. After a spinning class, biking back I'm sure I will be feeling a little pain ... literally.
The thing is, some changes are easy and don't require much sacrifice, like toting around reusable bags and recycling. Even taking public transportation to work is only a slight inconvenience. I'm still going to work -- that part hasn't changed -- I'm just leaving earlier (while arriving more relaxed and spending less money, so maybe it's actually slightly convenient). But what about changes that require a sacrifice? Should I be using public transportation while on vacation, instead of driving places? Should I even be going on a road trip to Palm Springs and Las Vegas (but of course I will)? Should I be using my bike more, since I have more time to get places?
On Monday a friend and I drove 40 miles to the Getty Villa, but how the heck would we have gotten there without driving? The bus would have taken ages. That's the frustration with ditching your car in sprawling LA -- it really limits you to what you can do. And even if getting there using public transportation is doable, I'm not yet comfortable with taking the train back to Long Beach at night.
Today during my leisurely breakfast, I read an article in the Times that said the effects of global warming from developed nations, including the U.S. (the largest producer of greenhouse gases), will be felt in Africa, which doesn't produce nearly as much pollution. I knew that already, but it was a reminder that global warming will hurt others before it hurts us. And yet here I am, resisting change because it might cause a little pain to my lifestyle. (I'd also recommend the Times' series on congestion. Yesterday's article featured a woman whose commute is five hours a day!)
I'll report back after my vacation with how I feel I did overall. As for today, I'm still average. I've driven a little bit around Long Beach, but later I'm going to bike to the gym, which I don't have time to do when I'm working. After a spinning class, biking back I'm sure I will be feeling a little pain ... literally.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
The farmers market
My recent bounty from the farmers market. Aren't those mini tomatoes adorable?
When the Los Angeles Times recently devoted its Food section to the topic of farmers markets, I can't say I was surprised that it left out Long Beach. It may not be as big and well-known as Santa Monica's farmers market, but I consider the Sunday farmers market in Long Beach to be solid, with its mix of fruit and vegetable stands, along with sellers of grass-fed beef, seafood, nuts, bread, dates and herbs, along with a crafts fair in the same parking lot. All it needs is a table of cheese and it could rival the wonderful farmers markets in Geneva where my sister lived for two years (that and an espresso cart!).
As part of my effort to be more conscientious of my consumer habits and how they impact the environment, I've tried to shop more at the farmers market because the produce is grown locally, or at least in the state, which means less pollution in shipping it here. A lot of the produce is organic, and even if not, it's grown on small farms I'd prefer to support over mega agriculture. And it's a blast. It turns the boredom of the weekly trip to the grocery store upside down -- the selection is more diverse (sweet oranges, giant Pomelo grapefruits, a colorful assortment of mini potatoes, bulbous eggplant) and the samples abound (by the time I left on Sunday my stomach hurt a little from all the natural sugars in the oranges, apples, cherries, strawberries and date I sampled).
I was surprised the other day when a friend had never heard of it. Still, the market is doing well, if my visit this Sunday was any indication. At noon the parking lot was full of cars from shoppers, bicyclists and boaters. It runs on Sundays from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. at the Alamitos Bay Marina off Second Street near PCH, across from the Whole Foods.
It's small enough that just a few trips makes you feel like a regular. I've gone enough times that I recognize the regular vendors, like the woman who is more aggressive about inviting you to taste-test her strawberries. A few weeks ago I overheard someone asking where the "spice guy" was and actually knew the answer. I told her he had shut down his stand and moved inland.
My strategy is to buy what I see, making a mental shopping list on the fly and putting together a meal depending on what's in season. So this week when I spotted a bag of three zucchini for $1 and then a $1 bag of yellow squash, a tofu stir-fry seemed an obvious choice. In the same bargain-hunter's paradise, I picked up a bag of three onions and a small head of cabbage, each $1. I added sugar snap peas from another stand to the mix (a pricier addition at $2 for a small green basket). Earlier at the herbs stand when I smelled the mint, contemplating making a fruit salad, the seller handed me another kind of mint to smell. It was a sweeter version called chocolate mint. I don't turn down chocolate, even in mint form, so that went into my bag too. I didn't feel like buying a lot of fruit so once I decided on stir-fry I figured I could add the mint to it, making it Thai-style with low-fat coconut milk. It sounded like a plan. After buying broccoli (which I cooked that night and I'll be damned, it tasted much fresher than broccoli from the grocery store), a tomato, adorable mini tomatoes on the vine, sweet oranges and adorable mini plums -- I was ready to head out, having spent a mere $16.
Now that I've gotten used to shopping at the farmers market, my next goal is to ride my bike there (it's about three miles).
Here's a link to the Times story on shopping at farmers markets: http://www.latimes.com/features/food/la-fo-cooking7-2008may07,0,6612313.story
As part of my effort to be more conscientious of my consumer habits and how they impact the environment, I've tried to shop more at the farmers market because the produce is grown locally, or at least in the state, which means less pollution in shipping it here. A lot of the produce is organic, and even if not, it's grown on small farms I'd prefer to support over mega agriculture. And it's a blast. It turns the boredom of the weekly trip to the grocery store upside down -- the selection is more diverse (sweet oranges, giant Pomelo grapefruits, a colorful assortment of mini potatoes, bulbous eggplant) and the samples abound (by the time I left on Sunday my stomach hurt a little from all the natural sugars in the oranges, apples, cherries, strawberries and date I sampled).
I was surprised the other day when a friend had never heard of it. Still, the market is doing well, if my visit this Sunday was any indication. At noon the parking lot was full of cars from shoppers, bicyclists and boaters. It runs on Sundays from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. at the Alamitos Bay Marina off Second Street near PCH, across from the Whole Foods.
It's small enough that just a few trips makes you feel like a regular. I've gone enough times that I recognize the regular vendors, like the woman who is more aggressive about inviting you to taste-test her strawberries. A few weeks ago I overheard someone asking where the "spice guy" was and actually knew the answer. I told her he had shut down his stand and moved inland.
My strategy is to buy what I see, making a mental shopping list on the fly and putting together a meal depending on what's in season. So this week when I spotted a bag of three zucchini for $1 and then a $1 bag of yellow squash, a tofu stir-fry seemed an obvious choice. In the same bargain-hunter's paradise, I picked up a bag of three onions and a small head of cabbage, each $1. I added sugar snap peas from another stand to the mix (a pricier addition at $2 for a small green basket). Earlier at the herbs stand when I smelled the mint, contemplating making a fruit salad, the seller handed me another kind of mint to smell. It was a sweeter version called chocolate mint. I don't turn down chocolate, even in mint form, so that went into my bag too. I didn't feel like buying a lot of fruit so once I decided on stir-fry I figured I could add the mint to it, making it Thai-style with low-fat coconut milk. It sounded like a plan. After buying broccoli (which I cooked that night and I'll be damned, it tasted much fresher than broccoli from the grocery store), a tomato, adorable mini tomatoes on the vine, sweet oranges and adorable mini plums -- I was ready to head out, having spent a mere $16.
Now that I've gotten used to shopping at the farmers market, my next goal is to ride my bike there (it's about three miles).
Here's a link to the Times story on shopping at farmers markets: http://www.latimes.com/features/food/la-fo-cooking7-2008may07,0,6612313.story
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