On the SkyTrain experience, as a humble commuter.

Note: This is my first piece of new material posted exclusively for this blog. I'm sure you're all atwitter.



One of the perks of switching to Blogspot from a less-definite format of posting my ideas all over the internet as a roving internomad is that I'm able to exploit the tag system that comes with the territory. Things like my letter to Nana from Super Smash Bros. or my breakdown of which members of the Saved by the Bell cast and periphery could be shit-kicked by Tiffani-Amber Thiessen, for example, are tagged as "pop culture." Other tags I utilize include the more broad "fashion," "television," "creative writing," and of course, "gay." Some of my tags, though, are very specific in their nature -- one such tag is "transit."

I don't profess to be anything other than totally ignorant on anything beyond the aesthetic means of public transit and how it effects me as a -- very frequent -- commuter. I know that at least twice, the 11:00 351 to Vancouver did not arrive at its assigned stop at King George Highway on Crescent Road, leaving me stranded with no other viable means of alternative transportation. I know that three buses of the same kind passed me by on 49th and Granville on the rainiest day of the year -- two with chyrons that screamed "too full!" and one with no excuse at all. And, perhaps less melodramatically, I know it's extremely hard to find my way to Helmcken and Howe in time to catch my last bus when it's almost midnight and I'm wandering around downtown Vancouver drunk off my ass. Lesson learned.

Being a frequent commuter, though, has served me three greater purposes: first, becoming acclimated to the transit system has made finding my way around Metro Vancouver a good deal easier than I'd found it previously. Second, the transit system offers me, as a vehicle-free tree-hugger, a good deal more independence than I'd be afforded otherwise. And third, and perhaps the most insufferably avant, it's affected a good deal of my artistic sensibility. I find myself writing, drawing, and thinking about transit -- and anything that stimulates me out of creative stagnation can only be a good thing.

Any of the friends on my MSN contact list, for example, can tell you about the frequency with which I will refer to the map of proposed SkyTrain lines house on Wikipedia. I love this map, and will enclose a copy of the map herein so you, too, can love it. Salivate over it. Print it out and tack it above your bed so it's the last thing you see when you go to sleep at night and the first thing you see when the rooster crows in the morning. Live it, love it, learn it by heart.

Porn.

The SkyTrain is more than just a means of transit to me, it's absolutely iconic. It's emblematic of my experience as a Vancouver commuter, and as such it holds a great degree of sentimentality and nostalgia in its cold, steely depths. (I suspect others, however unwittingly, feel similarly, thus the partial public resistance to switching from SkyTrain to LRT, even though it has demonstrable benefits. I know when I found out the Evergreen wasn't going to be legit SkyTrain I wrinkled my nose in distaste, only to un-wrinkle it in relief when the proposal switched tracks, pun very intended.) It's not often that I work in list format in my formal writing -- I far prefer tedious listing tasks, like jotting down the U.S. presidents or the original 150 Pokémon or, yes, the stops on the Expo Line -- for when I'm bored and looking to fill a page of foolscap -- but I feel like a list is the best way to properly rein in the SkyTrain joy that bubbles out of my heart like a wellspring of melted chocolate from a beautiful fondue pot. Or words to that effect.

1. On the SkyTrain lady.
Any Metro-Van commuter could extol, at length, the virtues of the SkyTrain lady - our goddess of domestic transit. I like to imagine that she is the omniscient guide of the SkyTrains, who keeps them running from station to station on the sheer power of her love for us, the commuters, and her desire to announce the name of every stop as many times as is possible in a day. Her pronunciation is a model of robotic exquisiteness: her slight lilt in "Royal Oak," her gentle persuasiveness in "Nanaimo," the precise eloquence with which she implores the passengers to "please leave the train at: King George." (As an aside, not that I'd ever question the will of SkyTraina, but I've always puzzled over the word choice there. Wouldn't "please exit the train" be a much better way of expressing what she's trying to communicate? I'm probably obsessing.)

When I am on the SkyTrain, SkyTraina makes me feel happy. I mouth each station along with her, revel in her "bing-bing-bong," and seek ways in which to emulate her in my day-to-day life. And because she makes me happy - exquisitely happy, in fact - I want her to be happy. I feel like the best way to accomplish this is to give her a day off her SkyTrain duties (most of us can find our way around the city, after all, save for a select few [I'm looking at you, turistas]) and set her up on a nice date with the hot male voice from the SeaBus. They seem like a perfect match; sure, she's a little more reserved and he speaks in pre-recorded sentences instead of algorithm-generated fragments, but I feel like they could make it work. They could to the Scotiabank Theatre, maybe take in a late show of Persepolis, he could walk her home... This could be the unified transit system we all want. A TransLink romance.

Secret no longer.

2. On the Millennium Line.
The Millennium Line is still something of a mystery to me, enshrouded in the haze of intrigue and my-not-living-near-Burnaby. While I could rattle off to you with precision the order of the Expo Line stations and my general opinion on them (though some are more forgettable than others; I'm looking in your direction, Edmonds and Nanaimo), I'm generally only good for naming a few of the Millennium Line stations. In addition, its terminus station, VCC-Clark -- though often spoken-of by SkyTraina -- remains the only SkyTrain station I have yet to see or experience with my own eyes. Someday, perhaps. I will continue to reach for that rainbow.

The Millennium Line stations can be sorted into three different categories: girly names, excessively long names, and other. The "girly name" group encompasses stations like Sapperton, Braid, Rupert and Renfrew -- stations at which no self-respecting man will ever disembark the train, for fear of total emasculation (in the event that this occurs, the revoked manliness can be restored at the hyper-masculinely-named Holdom, a title which evokes images of pure, raw, ball-grabbing maleness). The most egregious of these offenders is Rupert, which in a little known coup was named in tribute to TransLink B.O.D. member David Unruh's love of the ursine scarf aficionado.

The next station is...

Then we move into the overly long hyphenates: Production Way-University. Sperling-Burnaby Lake. Omarosa Manigault-Stallworth. It's not just the hyphenated stations wanting for brevity; stations like twin terrors Brentwood Town Centre and Lougheed Town Centre and Lake City Way, which evokes images of polygamist weddings with fifteen-year-old brides and preachers of questionable credentials, are equally to blame. They're jocking the style of Main Street-Science World, which has been around since the eighties, y'all, and bitches best learn to respect they elders. Stadium-Chinatown has already established itself as the hyphenate with indie appeal, and VCC-Clark has the new, fresh, urban style. Hence, it is my proposal that all of the overly long Millennium Line stations have their titles reduced by one word, and ideally two. It may seem drastic, but when your morning train stops at Sperling instead of Sperling-Burnaby Lake and you can use those extra four syllables on breaking up with the lover waiting for you at the station, you'll thank me.

The final category, other, encompasses all of the stations that don't fit the above estimate. Columbia is more Expo than Millennium. Holdom and Gilmore are lost in limbo, although Holdom really deserves its own category on awesomeness alone. Commercial Drive is... when Broadway was born healthy, Commercial Drive was the dead conjoined twin that accompanied it. And then there's VCC-Clark. And then there's Maude.

3. On the expansions.
Every day, I have the abject pleasure of driving in on the bridge and passing one of the new, semi-constructed SkyTrain stations, close to YVR (if I'm not mistaken, this particular one is either Bridgeport, Templeton, or Sea Island Centre), and glowing with delight. The Canada Line is the nearest it's been to completion in eons -- aeons, even -- and I intend to be the first one aboard to soak in the Richmond-bound delight when the cherry pops in 2009. Never again will I be stuck in that all too-common position of thinking "I have twenty minutes to get to Lulu Island before my sugar sculpture collapses, but no means by which to get there."

Looking into the future, though, means also observing the Evergreen Line: originally scheduled to be completed in 2011, but we all knew that was a huge pipe dream as soon as they said it. 2014 is the current goal. Even that's a little ambitious. I'm saying it's 2045 and we still have an uncircumcized little nub hanging off of Brentwood station as we argue whether Hover LRT is more efficient than Hover SkyTrain. It also means looking into the proposed future extension of the Millennium Line to take a complete route to UBC, due sometime in the early 3000s, and the plan to extend the Expo Line further into Surrey and eventually into Langley, which will be completed by our hyperfuturistic alien ant overlords in 45X6 A.Q. (after Quonos).

The most foreseeable hiccup, at least that's apparent on the posted version of the proposed SkyTrain map, is the ludicrous idiocy of having both a Landsdown station and a Lansdowne station (on the Evergreen and Canada Lines, respectively). This will ensure gaggles of confused tourists don't arrive at the proper station in time to meet friends, pay respects to loved ones on deathbeds, et al. We've also got a Coquitlam/Burquitlam situation going on, but that's easily sorted out by the fact that Coquitlam is actually a place and Burquitlam is some sort of weird, made-up imposter. Rounding out the buffet of not particularly well-thought-out name pairs are King George and King Edward, both of which should be replaced with King Babar in deference to the true heir to the throne. May he rest in peace.

4. In conclusion.
Ask around and everyone will tell you their favourite SkyTrain story. They might wax rhapsodic about the time that the homeless man across the aisle from them was looking at them a little too intently and gumming his lower lip a little too furiously, and they were forced to use the yellow bar on the window to summon the authorities. They might tell the tale of the trespassing commuter who tried a little too hard to resist the custody of the transit cops and was ultimately hurled onto the warning-emblazoned electric tracks for mechanical consumption as an example to all. They may tell the tale of the time the SkyTrain home from the English Bay fireworks was literally so packed that people died of heat stroke. Fond memories, all.

Regardless, the SkyTrain has carved out its niche as a uniquely Vancouver piece of nostalgia (unique as long as you ignore the fact that Bangkok and Tokyo, among other cities, have very similar transit systems). It is a symbol of the Vancouver experience and, whether you're trying to make out with your significant other on an empty car and finding that it's surprisingly more difficult than you'd expected what with the movement, or merely mentally willing yourself to shut out the musky odor of the damp stranger sitting next to you, it represents a range of different experiences within that larger category.

Final thought: I like the SkyTrain. I think the lady is hot. I am far too invested in a transit system that is overpopulated and has fucked me over time and again. It's like an abusive relationship, if your girlfriend has screechy wheels, is made of metal, and weighs four thousand pounds. And I think we've all been there before, fellas, am I right?



ETA: On the subject of name confusion: I see after the fact that there is also a VCC-Clark/Vancouver City Centre combo, and a Broadway/Broadway-City Hall pair. May God help us all.