Originally published in the S.F. Examiner
on October 31, 2019.
Last Sunday morning, after power-walking nine blocks from my apartment to the MacArthur BART station, then taking the escalator steps, two at a time, I hit the platform just as the doors of the train slide shut in my face. I consider trying to pry them open and look imploringly through the window for sympathy from the riders, but the train pulls away and all I can do is curse my luck, find a patch of shade and wait until the next one arrives.
Exposed to the elements in the middle of I-980, the wind is relentless. It’s going to be another warm, blustery day, with strong gales that will surely exacerbate the Kincade Fire up north, causing more destruction and mass evacuations.
When a Warm Springs train arrives, a mob of commuters files out onto the platform. Everyone stakes a position to bum rush the next train. I eyeball the wait time on the overhead sign. Fifteen minutes. Wait, wasn’t it just thirteen? Is the time going backwards?
Not only are the trains on a Sunday schedule, the PG&E power outages have led to system wide delays.
There’s a sense of impending doom in the air, and the smell of charred earth.
Frustrated and nervous about getting to the Yellow yard in time to secure a cab, I resume a conversation that’s been playing out in my head intermittently for the past week, this one-sided continuation of a discussion that began with a passenger in my taxi.
Young guy from El Paso. As a liberal vegetarian with an artistic bent, he was understandably infatuated with California. San Francisco in particular.
To a certain type of visitor, California can seem like a utopia. When you live here, though, it’s a different story.
Even though it was a relief to have a conversation about The City that wasn’t a total gripe fest, when he said, “It must be dope living in Cali. You guys got it made,” I couldn’t help but laugh. And not just because of his cringeworthy truncating of California.
I’ve had similar conversations with numerous passengers in the past and always say the same thing: “Yeah, well, all those privileges carry a hefty toll.”
The high cost of living in California isn’t just financial. You pay the price through everyday transactions.
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