The T Blows. Once and For All

Environmentalists, please close your ears.

The T blows. Once and for all. Final answer.

I'm sorry, but I had a refreshing 15 minute walk to Andrew station this morning. Brisk fall breeze, sun shining, people smiling as they mull about the neighborhood.

As I approach the Metro and BostonNow distributors atop the steps to the dank Andrew Square station, I take my final gasp of clean air for 35 minutes.

I wait on the platform, refusing to look down on the track because I hate seeing mice and rats.

Rush-hour train approaches, packed as usual. Doors open. I squeeze my way aboard and inhale my first body-odor laden breath. No seats. I refuse to touch any of those poles or bars, as they harbor germs and disease. I grab around one with my arm, hand in pocket, hold on for dear life.

South Station. Finally people disembarking. I find an empty seat, still warm from the butt of the previous rider. Gross.

Park Street. Transfer to the Green Line.

Run to a C Line Train, ready to depart. Another packed cabin. No seats. Nobody looking at each other. Nobody smiling. Nobody happy about their present situation.

Kenmore. My stop. Walk upstairs to a station still under repair, dripping pipes, scattered puddles of water with pestilence, orange construction netting, makeshift plywood walls.

Finally, I walk upstairs, emerging from my underground dungeon. Pedestrians prancing around, sun shining, fresh air, gentle wind to dry my grimy T sweat from my brown. Life is good once again.

Why do I usually drive to work? I can open my windows. I can sing along to music. I can chat on my cell phone. I can enjoy my personal space. I can transport heavy possessions in my back seat or trunk area. I can get to work faster.

And I can (actually, I do) recycle all of my newspapers, cardboard boxes, magazines, cans, bottles, and plastic containers to offset the (smidgen of) guilt I have owning a gas-guzzling Jeep. If I need to add some Carbon offsets, so be it.

Anything to avoid the T.