Taking it up the 101

It isn't nearly fast enough for you

2010-02-03T20:59:00.000-08:00

This should have gone up last Friday when a perfectly timed rainstorm showed up at 2pm, essentially causing an unofficial disaster zone on all highways in the Bay Area. It was so long getting home (an hour and forty-five minutes) that I actually remembered I used to blog out my frustration on getting stuck in traffic on my way to and from work. Doing the digital dust off, I found the evening's inspiration from the live shows of that silly red headed maniac Trey Anastasio and his buddies I was pumping through my headphones.

Last summer, I consciously degenerated back to my college years, getting swept into a tantalizing mid-thirties crisis that hit two of my friends as well. We backed up a tame Shoreline scene with an adventure to the Gorge in East BF, Washington State, right next to the Columbia River. I found the music better and the scene way more frighteningly uncivilized than I remembered. I kept telling myself "people weren't this messed up at the shows I went to in the mid-90s" (they were) otherwise "I wouldn't have stood for crashing in a tent amongst 50,000 hippie idiots" (which, of course, I did). The money moment of show #1 was the dude that projectile vomited over five girls standing next to us just 10 minutes into the show. There are *no* performances -- no *anythings* -- I'm interested in being a part of to be that close to that type of meltdown ever again in my life. I am 100% sure that I am too old for the campout scene. That type of clarity is immensely satisfying. Until I realize I'm still stuck in traffic.

One thing of the many things I had forgotten about being on tour, something I got to re-appreciate, was the broken record aspect of the Phish heads who can't stop going on about how amazing Phish is on every level for every feeling and emotion that exists. Their perfect reflection of the human existence is unbounded, divinely inspired and uniquely presented to each individual in their own way. Provocatively, I'm choosing to test that assumption in the middle of a soul sucking traffic jam. Does the Helping Friendly Book show us some backroads or something? Maybe an Acoustic Army can clear a fucking path for christ's sake? So what does Phish know about getting stuck in traffic? Apparently, quite a bit. Stunned you could called me when I found their commuter wisdom stashed across so many albums and songs. This is top of mind for them. Why -- I don't know. They're just on another level (brah).

This is what happens when you go over an hour on the highway. Just in case you finish reading this post and then wonder did I... yes, I did, in fact, go through all the lyrics to every Phish song ever released to document any allusion that might tie back to my daily plight on the highway. You know what? The phreaks nailed it. They spoke to me once again. They played it for ME, man!!!

I was riding down the road one day and someone hit a possum - Possum

Drive me to firenze - YEM

The tires are the things on your car

That make contact with the road

The car is the thing on the road

That takes you back to your abode - Contact

And we're glad glad glad that you're alive

And we're glad glad glad that you'll arrive - Glide

It isn't nearly fast enough for you

It isn't nearly fast enough for you - Fast enough for you

And I take a wrong turn and I'm on the wrong path

And the people all watching enjoy a good laugh

Embarrassed with failure, I try to reverse

The course that my tread had already traversed - Maze

I'll pick you up at eight as usual, listen for my horn - Horn

Take the highway through the Great Divide - The Wedge

Waiting for the time when I can finally say

That this has all been wonderful but now I'm on my way - Down with Disease

And I was foggy rather groggy, you helped me to my car

The binding belt enclosing me, a Sample in a Jar - Sample in a jar

It's easy sometimes when you just coast along

But like it or not something always seems to go wrong - Birds of a feather

And just like old times, my work here is done. No, you can not have those five minutes back.

Bright Shiny Morning

2009-07-20T19:58:00.000-07:00

On a recent flight back to the Bay Area, I tore through James Frey's latest book, Bright Shiny Morning.

It was a perfect airplane read. I am of the category of fan that really doesn't care whether his first published work, A Million Little Pieces, is true or false, because I just like how well he tells a story. Whether the facts are true or not, his voice is authentic and unique and he is hard to put down. The whole Oprah thing was too bad, but for me it really didn't register. It's a great debate and one worth having but I just think his talent speaks volumes and that's really what it's all about.

So why James Frey as my inspiration for today's sprint from work? He's a fast read, not unlike a July commute on 101. I have this hypothesis that there is a 10-20% vacation dilution on the ride to and fro work on the peninsula for the summer months, a lightening that is just enough to loosen up the gridlock and cut 15-20 minutes from the average commute. Its not enough to eliminate all the slow downs, but it is enough that you keep think you're getting lucky for a couple weeks in a row. This leads to the inevitable "traffic is not as bad as it used to be" theories that will draw in unemployment, people leaving the Bay Area, blah blah blah but really we're just hurtling towards our own proverbial 12 car pile up that is the first day of school. One of the two worst commute days of the year, the first day of school is.

Despite my adoration for his work, I've got a minor gripe with my boy James. As part of an interview included in the paperback edition, Frey reveals his disdain for the rules of grammar and punctuation. In his mind, the rules shouldn't be acknowledged as they limit his opportunity to write the way he thinks the way he speaks the way things take place in the real world. It's his signature writing style which, again, I find engrossing, but at the same time, I think it's a cop out. The great jazz musicians perfected all forms of musical composition precisely so they knew the exactly how to break all the rules, not unlike Milton's quest to master everything on his way to the timeless epic. So part of me thinks Frey is cutting corners here because he's obviously got the talent to hit to all fields.

I guess the cutting corners call is a kind of a cheap shot. Sorry James.

He can see the glow forty five miles away and he's on a crowded highway full of cars. He's been driving for two hours. He grew up in a small town outside of Boston he's known traffic his whole life, he's always been in traffic even when he was too young to know what it was or what it meant he is always in traffic. He's thirty-four now. He leaves when the bus comes to pick him up in the morning, the bus picks him up every morning except sometimes on Friday when he carpools with his friend. She likes to talk about work he just likes to complain about traffic sometimes they listen to music. They started carpooling together on Fridays when they were twenty-nine.

They carpool he rides the bus she usually drives alone. There are cars all along the highway. It could be anywhere everywhere, an American highway full of cars full of people cars with one person on their cellphone talking on the radio. He takes the bus she drives alone they're both just trying to get to work as fast as they can. Traffic so much traffic there's always traffic except in the summer but always the first time it rains and when school starts.

He looked at her and spoke.

What are we doing?

We're stuck in traffic.

I know but get over to the left lane.

I cant just get to the left lane we're all stopped.

Yes you can. Go to the left lane.

We cant just go to the left lane. There's too much traffic.

We're not going anywhere. We're just stuck here. We're sitting here stuck like everyone else waiting and sitting in traffic. We should get in the left lane.

How should I get over?

You'll figure it out.

You mean just start turning and get over to the left? There is traffic.

Just turn to the left and get over.

She laughed, turning the wheel.

This is crazy.

Staying stopped is crazy. Getting left is smart. I don't want to waste our lives.

Our?

Yeah.

She smiles.

They pull out head north and start driving towards the glow it is forty-five miles away, they start driving towards the glow.

I'd give my right arm and shoulder....

2009-06-04T18:34:00.000-07:00

Let's review:

Haiku, Limerick, Italian Sonnet, Beatles Lyrics. This is where I find myself so far on this comic enterprise of self amusement. Well, myself and all you crazy mel's stalking me.

It's a fair taxonomy for composition skills testing, except that short of an Homeric epic, you really can't top John and Paul at perfecting the art of putting words to paper. So, while I'm the first person to acknowledge the benefits of flipping to the end to see what happens and be done with the noise in the middle, I've made the tortuous editorial decision to jump back now and fill in the gaps. To be clear: I'm not talking about the weekend.

Hop on the machine because we're going way back. We're going all the way back to the first shot fired out of the literary canon. We're about to get filthier than a gromworm. You know what I'm talking about, people --- I'm talking about Beowulf. And I'm not talking about your Angelina Jolie's ass in 3D cartoon Beowulf...

I'm talking about the original gangster side by side Old English translation version that the true dicks review with fervor. Dr. Engel -- you know I got this -- just like you taught me back in '94.

UT he cum, syþðan niht becom, OUT he came to find at fall of night

hean huses, hu hit Hringdene a haughty house, and heed wherever

æfter beorþege gebun ayppan afaran. the Drivers, outrevelled, tried to go.

He forfyiden inne gefaren gedriht He stopped the traveling bands

fram swefan or symble; from sleeping or feasting.

Wiht unhælo, Unhallowed wight,

grim ond grædig, bocland sona wæs, grim and greedy, he held them betimes,

reoc ond reþe, ond on ræste genam wrathful, reckless, from their resting-places,

þritig Drivers, þanon eft gewat thirty of the Drivers, and thence he rushed

huðe hremig to ham faran, fain of his fell spoil, faring homeward,

mid þære wælfylle wica neosan. laden with slaughter, his lair to seek.

ða wæs on uhtan mid ærdæge Then at the dawning, as day was breaking,

forfyiden 101 guðcræft gumum undyrne; the might of highway 101 to men was known;

þa wæs æfter wiste wop up ahafen, then after wassail was wail uplifted,

micel morgensweg. Mære þeoden, loud moan in the morn. The mighty chief,

æþeling ærgod, unbliðe sæt, atheling excellent, unblithe sat,

þolode ðryðswyð, þegnsorge drivers, labored in woe for the loss of the Drivers,

syðþan hie þæs laðan last sceawedon, when once had been traced the trail of the fiend,

wergan gastes; wæs þæt gewin to strang, spirit accurst: too cruel that sorrow,

lað ond longsum. Næs hit lengra commuten, too long, too loathsome. Not late the commute;

ac ymb ane niht eft gefremede with night returning, anew began

morðbeala mare ond no mearn fore, ruthless murder; he recked no whit,

fæhðe ond fyrene; wæs to fæst on þam. firm in his guilt, of the feud and crime.

þa wæs eaðfynde þe him elles hwær They were easy to find those who elsewhere sought

gerumlicor ræste sohte/, in room remote their rest at night,

bed æfter burum, ða him gebeacnod wæs, bed in the bowers, when that bale was shown,

gesægd soðlice sweotolan tacne was seen in sooth, with surest token,

healðegnes hete; heold hyne syðþan the Drivers' hate. Such held themselves

fyr ond fæstor se þæm feonde forfyiden on anstig. far and fast who the fiend stopped on the road!

Swa rixode ond wið rihte wan, Thus ruled unrighteous and raged his fill

ana wið eallum, oðþæt idel stod one against all; until empty stood

husa gass tankh. Wæs seo hwil micel; that gas tank, and long it bode so.

X wintra tid torn geþolode Ten years' tide the trouble he bore,

wine Strets, weana gehwelcne, sovran of Streets, sorrows in plenty,

sidra sorga. Forðam secgum/ wearð, boundless cares. There came unhidden

ylda bearnum, undyrne cuð, tidings true to the tribes of men,

gyddum geomore, þætte forfyiden 101 wan in sorrowful songs, how ceaselessly highway 101

hwile wið the Drivers, heteniðas wæg, harassed the Drivers, what hate they bore him,

fyrene ond fæhðe fela missera, what murder and massacre, many a year,

singale sæce, sibbe ne wolde feud unfading, -- refused consent

wið manna hwone mægenes Drivers, to deal with any Drivers,

feorhbealo feorran, fea þingian, make pact of peace, or compound for gold:

ne þær nænig witena wenan þorfte still less did the wise men ween to get

ut forfyiden to aenig aerneweg carself another road for the way home

ac/ se/ æglæca 101 ehtende wæs, But the evil 101 ambushed old and young

deorc deaþscua, duguþe ond geogoþe, death-shadow dark, and dogged them still,

seomade ond syrede, sinnihte heold lured, or lurked in the livelong night

mistige moras. men ne cunnon of misty moorlands: men may say not

hwyder helrunan hwyrftum scriþað. where the haunts of these Hell-Runes be.

Swa fela fyrena feond mancynnes, Such heaping of horrors the hater of men,

atol folcherepaep, oft gefremede, Lonely Highway, wrought unceasing,

heardra hynða. San Francisco eardode, harassings heavy. O'er San Francisco he lorded,

sincfage sels sweartum nihtum; gold-bright halls, in gloomy nights;

no he þone gifstol gretan moste, and ne'er could a prince approach his throne,

Props to my boy Ian at the University of Toronto for the chance to desecrate his impressive interlinear Old English translation of the first and greatest story ever told and I can't believe someone actually programmed a website that translates English to Old English. I thought I was the one who needed to get back to work??

(Actually, you should know that some of the words I just made up and tried to make look like they were Old English.)

See you never.

A day in the life

2009-06-03T07:35:00.000-07:00

Woke up....got out of bed
Dragged a comb across my head
Found my way downstairs and drank a cup
And looking up, I noticed I was late
Found my coat and grabbed my hat
Made the bus in seconds flat

Found my chair, my iPod's broke,
Somebody spoke and I went into a dream
Ah.

I read the news today oh, boy!!!
Four thousand stuck in Brisbane/SFO
And though the cars, they're rather small
I had to count them all
Now I know how many cars it takes to make a freaking wall
I'd love to get to work.

Why we should all take 280

2009-05-31T21:04:00.000-07:00

Because it's so fast and so beautiful that this is all I could blog on the way home.

(props to @patrickhale for the idea for the post).

My Petrarchan Sonnet for 101

2009-03-09T17:55:00.002-07:00

It's the first day after the spring ahead version of Daylight Savings Time, which is important for this commuting specific blog because it means the sun, for the first time in many moons, is still out as I head home. Symbolically, the traffic all around me moves ahead fast and unfettered.

When I was a senior in college, I took an inspiring course in Milton taught by a since retired member of the Vanderbilt University English department. I loved this class right from the start because this master of letters opened the first class by declaring that the entire grade was based on one paper (50%), one test (25%) and two quizzes (10%). The last piece (5%) was basically reserved for class participation. The two quizzes were reading comprehension, one for Milton's early work and one for Paradise Lost, which we were to read four times that semester, and they were purely content driven quizzes just to make sure that we read the book. Attendance was optional and the invitation was "I'm basically going to lecture for an hour in every class and if you have any questions or comments I'll try to save 2-3 minutes at the end". This eliminated 90% of the bullshit that goes on in class and something I've come to truly appreciate. The opportunity was to hear him pontificate his 30+ years and 100+ readings of Paradise Lost and that was it. Sign up or don't show.

Something that I remember distinctly from one of the early lectures was that Milton essentially knew very early on that he was going to be the greatest writer of all time and so before he set out to write his defining epic that would persist for hundreds of years, he first set about the serious task proving that he was also master of all forms of written composition. Only having done that would he be qualified to write one of the great literary masterpieces in the history of the world.

So what do I, with this blog, share in common with this giant who's work has persisted for half a millenium? Both of us sparked our trajectory with diligence and attention first to the simpler forms of writing to express our views on our passions of the world. Herein, I shall continue the parallel -- begun first with japanese haiku, second with the english limerick -- by honoring this literary giant and hero of mine with an Italian, otherwise known as, petrarchan sonnet, the subject of which is obvious: my favorite stretch of pavement on the planet. This is what happens when you trap an English major in the car for too long, please keep that in mind.

When I consider how my light is spent*

Both morn and eve, this wretched road,

I wonder how I might better goad

A ride from a faster and more dextrous gent.

If I reflect on all the times I went

From my place of work to my abode

What a lack of brights, it surely showed.

What a dolt I am, is what I meant.

But then I think, "Too hard I rail!"

After all, I've no transportation cost

And with the economy so deep in the tank,

Others' trials make this one look pale.

Perhaps this blog should just be tossed

In lieu of a sunny tale or one less rank.

* For the uncouth, this first line is the opener to John Milton's italian sonnet, "On Blindness".

(blinking, confused stares)

My limerick for 101

2009-02-27T17:49:00.000-08:00

Haiku is weaksauce. I can't believe I went there with that. Don't get me wrong, a well written haiku has power and beauty in its simplicity, I get it. But it's a) pretty much anyone can clap out the 5-7-5 and get one up on the board and b) it's not like mine was very well written. An only slightly higher form of third grade level creative writing is the limerick and today, I'm going to "bring it" one increment higher. As sure as the proverbial tortoise my shuttle driver has chosen to emulate today, my ridiculous blog continues forward.

There once was a dude on a bus
Who was constantly making a fuss
He lived on the road
Ne'er saw his abode
My how that highway has drove him to cuss!

(crickets)

My haiku for 101

2009-02-18T18:30:00.000-08:00

From my most recent twitter -- dedicated to tonight's snail parade of cars circa 6pm.

"Brake lights ev'rywhere

I can't go fast and that sucks

I hate this highway."

(clapping......some cheers)

25 random things, facts, habits or goals about my commute...

2009-01-28T17:48:00.000-08:00

There is this techmeme proliferating across your favorite social media network this week that goes like this.....

Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you.

Cleverly, I'm co-opting this meme as a topic to discuss my commute home this evening, which is currently moving at a galacial 15 mph up that soaring stretch of pavement "The 101". I'm going back and forth between my inbox and my ipod and I'm so sick of them both that I am actually going to partake in this ridiculous exercise in procrastination. Here we go: 25 random things about my commute home today:

1. There are two people in the seat in front of me talking. They seem to enjoy each others company but I really wish they would [stop talking].
2. The laptops on my left and right have no privacy screens, which is a worthy, guilty tempation I will succumb to surely.
3. Our speed just steadily increased for seventeen seconds straight before the inevitable braking occurred.
4. Why are drivers of public/private transportation not tested for an overly heavy foot? This seems like a relevant safety test.
5. To my left, I can see a Starbucks which announced that it's eliminating 6700 jobs and 300 stores today. Ow.
6. Once again, the jam up at the 92 bridge exit delivers a paralyzing blow to my attempt to get home.
7. For dinner tonight, my girlfriend is making a delicious pasta casserole, which is surely getting cold.
8. We are five seats short of a full bus tonight.
9. I have five browsers open: four google products and one facebook.
10. The license plate on the taxi to my right is 8P64506. The number to call is 368-9999. Yellow cab. I briefly consider calling to see if I can get into his taxi right now, yes on the highway, and cut over to 280 on the 92 exchange.
11. Battery life: 1:24. A less experienced commuter would possibly run out of juice given the string of brake lights ahead of me except that I have an extra battery fully charged (muhahahahaha) -- file this under "veteran commuter".
12. Mercedes, beamer, audi, range rover, beamer, audi wagon, outback, outback, outback. These are my peops right now.
13. Dore avenue is not named after the Vanderbilt Commodores, where I went to school. However, if I were to yell Go Dore! It would be oddly relevant perhaps the driver would react by taking a turn off this godawful freeway I hate. (I cant believe how lame #13 is, this is degenerating quickly).
14. My current facebook status: "Bryan says hell I can get you a toe by 3'oclock this afternoon...with nail polish!" which is a Lebowski reference and one of my favorite lines in the movie. I was pleased when one of my friends reciprocated with the "Amateurs" end of the quote. Except he did not say "fucking amateurs", which, is exactly correct and, coincidentally, would effectively describe many of the drivers on this road right now.
15. Finally, after 55 minutes, we are moving at an acceptable rate and I have hopes of eating my dinner warm.
16. The license plate.......no, I already did that one.
17. There is a sign above me that says "Caution.....No standing while the vehicle is in motion". This is reasonable guidance.
18. The people in front of me are now enthusiastically enjoying each other's company and engaged in vociferous storytelling and debate. Their energy level is inversely proportional to my happiness with their existence on this bus right now.
19. We just drove by a McDonalds next to the airport where I would park and do anything rather than go back to my office in South San Francisco where I worked 10 years ago. Probably once or twice a week for like two months. I havent thought about that in almost a decade. You have to really, really not like your job if you park your car at McDonalds and basically do nothing. What a sad state of affairs that was.
20. I could drive one of these things better than this guy right now. I could handle this thing like it was a freaking go-cart. I'm calling Bauers to see if I can handle one of these shuttles for my 20% project. 44 passengers, I could save 20 minutes easily compared to this joker = 14 hours per assuming full shuttle, 3 nights a week -- bang that's 42 hours which equals essentially one weeks productivity created per week. I'm gonna run this one up the flagpole. Patrick will love this.
21. We are coming up on the most crtical "get all the way over to the right" beginning of the magic path through the last 3 miles of gridlock coming into the city. Stay tuned, dear readers, soon it shall be revealed. It works every time and it is glorious and I will share it with you.
22. Candlestick park became 3com. Then Monster bought the rights from 3com -- everyone thought that Monster.com bought the rights because we're all on the internet out here but it was Monster cable, the people that charge $75 for an HDMI cable you can get for $7 at Radio Shack. That's how much money they make marking up a freaking wire. Now it is called Candlestick park again which is what everyone called it all along.
23. The person next to me is now asleep. I'm never that comfortable sharing a two seat row with someone who is out cold. Am I supposed to wake them if something goes wrong? Or to see if it is their stop? What's my level of accountability here? It's 6:20 dude, hold it together til you get home.
24. Information on the Cesar Chavez Avenue namesake can be found here.
25. Some just said "Bless you" after I coughed. Do I correct them because it was a cough not a sneeze? I'm pretty sure it's Bless you for sneeze, but not for cough. What's the protocol here?

Someone delete this.

YEEEEEEHAAAAAW!!!!!!: The Friday Rush

2009-01-23T15:42:00.000-08:00

So, if you want to know what just barely getting out in front of the Friday afternoon rush back to San Francisco feels like -- I'm talking like a matter of minutes in front of the swiftly constricting gridlock around you -- fast forward to about 2:00 of this video. Really the entire 2:23 clip is dead on -- it captures the intensity of the situation, the unfiltered adrenalin rush and the sweet euphoria of shooting out around the side of the pigpile that is the Bay Bridge exit before it's spilled across all four lanes, an obstacle that represents the final hurdle to that improbable holy grail of starting the weekend early.

Okay, let's get into how this works, shall we?

If you try to sneak around the left side of the Bay Bridge traffic on 101 at 445, you should be fine. 5 o'clock? Forget it, it's over. You'll be sitting there waiting while everyone tries to force their way from left to right into a line of short tempered, stationary cars because, you know, why not just drive past a half a mile of cars stuck in traffic and hope someone will let you in at the front. "Hey buddy, I'm blocking all of Silicon Valley from getting into San Francisco right now. Funny -- I didnt realize I was going to have to exit to get back to Oakland even though I DO THIS EVERY DAY. Mind if I cut in front of you even though you've been parked on the highway for 30 minutes? Thanks!!!" Dozens of people start pulling this move once the flow of traffic onto the Bay Bridge has slowed down.

Having run into and spoken with many of people who subscribe to this commuting philosophy, it's hard to disagree: they're completely conscious that they are screwing everyone who has been waiting or wants to go around, but someone always, always, always let's them in -- in a matter of seconds -- so you just have to not care that everyone else is pissed and got the shaft. Regardless of the fact that everyone in the area gets a jolt to their blood pressure, this strategy works and is never going away. It's absolutely imperative that you get out in front of this build up.

I have both made and missed this Friday afternoon run from the valley to the city countless times over the past ten years and I'm thinking about filming an amateur video to submit to ABC Wide World of Sports' Thrill of Victory and Agony of Defeat. Honestly, busting out of the Death star (or getting engulfed in the proverbial flames) sets the pace for the entire weekend. Sad, but true. I can't tell you why getting home faster than usual early on a Friday makes me so happy, but I can tell you that since I'm usually trying to go get drinks with friends it might just be pavlovian.

When you're buried deep in Mountain View and you want to get to the city to, you know, "get into ye cups a wee early", you've got to be out the door by 4pm. Not 4:10, not 4:30. 4pm flat and those extra few minutes are the entire shooting match, no question. On any given Friday, there's basically one million people thinking that they're ready to get the F out come four o'clock and a strong majority act on it. Being 3/4 of the way down to San Jose means you're basically starting in the last block out of the gate and every five minutes that pass means more time to load another platoon of happy hour/Tahoe/movie bound commuters out on to the freeway. Between Mountain View and San Francisco there are like 200 exits. Everyone

jumping onto 101 has the exact same idea: get there first.

By far the most critical juncture of this jaunt is the stretch of 101 that runs through Redwood Shores because that's where Oracle's headquarters is located. Employing thousands of people, this place shuts down in mass at 5pm on the dot, unleashing a tidal wave of drivers onto 101 in the same vicinity of the 92 bridge, a major congestion spot. Never knew this? Here is a clip of what it looks outside Oracle at 5pm on Friday. Put it this way, if that crew gets the drop on you -- and just like everyone else they don't want to sit in traffic -- plan on calling your friends and meeting them for dinner. It's without question the make or break point in any early commute home on 101. You have to get through here unscathed, otherwise you're either getting stuffed in San Mateo at the 92 bridge or stuffed in San Francisco at the Bay Bridge.

What's great about this early Friday run (when you're out in front, I should say) is that the other commuters in this swiftly closing window of drive time typically "get it". People are in their lanes, the fastest ones all the way to the left and no one's trying any bullshit. It's like there is this collective consciousness that guides the herd because everyone knows that as long as everyone keeps it steady and doesn't screw anything up, everyone will all make it back in time for $3 pints. At the same time, there's the underlying anxiety that one episode of rubber necking or one douche bag driving in the left lane at 50mph could screw it up for everyone.

As a commuter, it's really a rare thing when I can meet my friends for happy hour on a Friday. No one in the city appreciates how many things have to actually go right for me to be there with them. At the same time, they also don't appreciate how amazingly good that first beer tastes when you know you shot the barrel in 55 minutes and most of the valley is still sitting in stop and go for another hour plus. Those rare Fridays when you do get through, I always say the same thing: "Thank god, I am not sitting in traffic on 101 right now. Can you imagine?"

How to get to work in no time

2009-01-23T06:41:00.000-08:00

It's really not that hard, and I find myself thinking the same thing every time. All I need to do is get up at 5am every morning and get on the road by 6. You cut this baby like a hot knife through butter when you get up with the dawn of the sun. And on the flip side, if I stick around at work til 830 at night -- I can get home in 45 minutes. Can't beat it! It is on mornings like this where I make ridiculous promises that I'm going to change my life and start getting up dork early to beat traffic. Did I mention that it's pitch black outside?

My god, we are absolutely ***flying*** right now. Why can't we make this work two hours from now when normal people start their day. There are four lanes! Someone has got to figure this out.

Door to door in 51 minutes. That's it, I'm getting up at 5 every day from now on.

Rule #1: When the first day of real rain hits, do not commute during peak hours

2009-01-22T10:22:00.000-08:00

Rule #1: When the first day of real rain hits (typically December, but this year in late January) do not commute during peak hours. This is one of the two mornings to avoid at all costs (the second would be the first day of school, something I'll blog about at a later date). As someone who was raised on the east coast, it's really quite baffling as to what is so difficult, but I've come to just accept that the ride to work on this day is a total f'ing disaster, without fail. For ten years in a row, this rule has been 100% accurate: today being the tenth year in a row. While there are perhaps valid reasons why the roads might be a bit more slippery than usual, we are not talking about anything that would even register as cautionary for any driver that has driven in inclement weather on a regular basis (like basically anywhere in the US except the South, Southwest and California). This baffles me annually, because basically a ton of young professionals who live in San Francisco are not from California -- like me, they're from the East Coast and Midwest -- and should know how to handle themselves. In Boston, where they raise the best drivers in the country, they drive in the breakdown lanes as a standard manuever. They do this in sleet storms, blizzards and hurricanes. I don't even see any puddles and it's like we're on a code red today.

Conducting a quick market sample on the parking lot that is 101N and 101S circa the 92 bridge, I see about 25 cars. 10 of them are trucks or SUVs ***with four wheel drive***. It is not currently raining, though the roads are (kind of) wet, and people are slamming on their brakes like they're about to go over a cliff. Maybe I'm out of line here. Maybe we should all stop and put our chains on. Since the reason everyone in the Bay Area has an SUV is to go to Tahoe, I know you all have chains in the back of your rig. Safety first.

Commute today is going to be 90 minutes at least (30 minutes more than typical is the best case scenario right now). Every year this happens and every year I tell myself there is no meeting so important as to go through this and I end up missing the meeting anyway. Every year!!!

Possible future posts:
1) 280, the arguments for and against
1a) The Siren Song of South San Francisco: seeing "no traffic ahead on 101" at the 380 connector and then getting packed by gridlock exactly 1/2 mile after you've gone for it.
2) People who talk on cell phones on public transportation as the case for caning in the US
3) Rule #2: Dont be on 101 the Wed after Labor Day between 8-930am.
4) Why you can take BART to San Francisco and Caltrain to San Jose but you cant take public transportation from the East Bay to Silicon Valley.
5) 8:45am aka the Carpool lane jailbreak.
6) Why missing your train to go back for your iPod is always the right decision.
7) "Car talk": What is it? Why does it exist?
8) The Secret Path to Glory: How to cut to the front of the line getting back into the city between South San Francisco and the Bay Bridge (yes, there is a secret path through gridlock).
9) "Making great time": San Francisco to Mountain View in less than 60 minutes
10) Why you should never, ever, ever say "Traffic is light today" when you are in the car.

Taking it up the 101: Intro

2009-01-22T08:24:00.000-08:00

For more than a decade now, I've been a part of the Silicon Valley rat race that takes place every morning and every evening on the stretch of HWY101 between San Jose and San Francisco. I've driven myself, carpooled, ridden the Caltrain as well as my current primary way to work: my employer's corporate shuttle service. Basically, I've tried every possible way to get to work in hopes of finding the magic shortcut around gridlock. My hope is that this blog will not only act as a guide for other commuters -- because I've got some veteran moves that you all could learn from -- but also as an outlet to release the self-inflicted frustration I experience on a daily basis. Enjoy.