“Took a ride on the Greyhound Line. Everything was doing fine.
‘Till I got to Salt Lake City, things out there wernt too pretty,
They lost my bag, I lost my brain, next time gonna the train.”
– Barry Karasiewicz, “Lost Baggage Blues.”
You meet the most interesting people on a Greyhound.
I know this from experience, lots of experience. I even wrote a song about it and made a 4-track demo back in the ‘90s.
I don’t know exactly how many miles I “rode the dog,” but I can easily say that it numbers in the thousands. How many hours, or days “riding the dog”? I have no idea. For untold centuries people have grappled with the nature of time. We have all experiences where time seems to be traveling faster than the speed of light, other occasions time seems to be moving along at a snail’s pace. nd then there is standing in line at the soul crushing, hopeless, despondent void of the black hole purgatory known as The Department Of Motor Vehicles.
There is no way possible we can even grasp the concept of time. Only God gets it. After all, not only did He invent it, He is outside of time itself, looking in, and simultaneously inside of time enjoying it with us. Sure, that’s a bit confusing from our perspective, but then again, we like to have a high opinion of our perspective even though, for example, we are akin to a goldfish in a bowl who has no conception that a human exists, works a job, takes his earnings to the store to purchase fish food, to sprinkle in the fishbowl to feed said goldfish.
And yet us goldfish believe we can comprehend Time, Space, Gravity, etc.
The best explanation of time that I have heard is this:
“People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint, its more like a big ball of wibbily-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff.”
– Dr. Who, “Blink”
In other words, I don’t know, nobody knows, even “science” can’t tell you for sure because, according to Einstein, it all depends on your distance from earth when you measure it relative to how it is measured on earth. Even that Theory of Relatively is being challenged by the newest batch of scientists.
So, yeah…
I have no idea how much time I spent on a Greyhound.
“…Fifty-Six hours in this chair. Moving all the time, aint going nowhere.
Kink in my neck cutting off blood to my brain, great googly moogly I’m going insane.
They lost my bag, I lost my brain, next time gonna take the train.”
But, as I said earlier, “You meet the most interesting people on a Greyhound.” That word “interesting”, is interesting. My Dad once told me that there is an old Arab curse, “May you live in interesting times.” It took me a while to get what he was saying, but yeah, he was right, and yes, you do meet the most interesting people on a Greyhound. It can’t be helped.
People use Greyhound for various reasons. For me, it was because I didn’t have a driver’s license nor the proper documentation to board an airplane. Many people live in major metropolitan areas like Manhattan and simply don’t own a car. Some folks are taking relatively short trips, 100 to 200 miles, and flying would make no sense. Some people may not have the cash to pay an airline and the bus is the only alternative. Others are hightailing it outta town, sometimes to escape an abusive situation, sometimes to avoid the cops. There are even some folks who are being bussed out of their cities because the local authorities have deemed them as being “undesirable” and are “resettling” them in advance of an Olympic crowd (I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU ATLANTA). Many different people from many different backgrounds, with many different situations crammed together in very close quarters for hours, days, and sometimes weeks (Anchorage to Tampa for example) on end, with no real sleep. If folks are not “interesting” when the climb aboard, odds are that they will be “interesting” by the time the disembark.
During many excursions, over many years, over many miles, I have encountered many, many people on the Greyhound. Sometimes these encounters were mildly amusing, and somewhat entertaining. Other encounters have been downright brutal, savage, and terrifying. I can recall at least three incidents where the bus had to pull over and the passengers evacuated, while the State Police used various levels of force to extract certain passengers from the bus.
(Hello again!
You probably didn’t notice, but I had to step away from writing, and now it’s a day later. I kinda lost my train of thought, but I’m gonna do my best to pick up the threads and weave something somewhat coherent together and eventually make some sort of point.)
“…Stopped on the roadside for some food. The meal was ugly, the waitron rude.
They wuz late bringing the check, never got what I wanted to get.
They lost my bag, I lost my brain, next time gonna take the train.”
After a history of making many sleep deprived excursions on a rolling sanatorium while entrapped in a vortex devoid of time and decency, I once again found myself preparing to Ride the Dog. The reason for the trip was due to a combination of low funds and a minor emergency. I went to the grocery store, purchased three dozen eggs, two loafs of bread, and a jar of mayonnaise, and packed enough egg salad sandwiches for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the three days of my journey. I also had a sandwich the night before, and one for breakfast before I got on the bus.
Yes, I know the effects of egg salad on the digestive system. That was part of the plan. The last thing I wanted was to be trapped sitting next to an “interesting” person for the next 72 hours, and just wanted to be left alone.
The plan worked.
More accurately stated… Unfortunately, the plan worked.
Without getting into the details, I soon found myself being the “interesting” person on the bus that I was trying to avoid, and I became an object of derision amongst my fellow passengers.
“…Finally got to Idaho. Where my bags is, I don’t know.
Don’t tell me don’t get upset, you ain’t seen nothin yet.
They lost my bags, I lost my brain, next time gonna take the train.”
Well…
I finally arrived at my destination and with great relief, and great remorse, I got off the bus. I was relieved that I was no longer the recipient of threats, hostility, and indignation from the folks on the bus. I was remorseful because I caused quite a problem to folks, who through no fault of their own, were subject, trapped, held hostage even, to the consequences of my actions (especially in the modern fleet of “Greyhound Americruisers” where you cannot open the windows)….as in much the same way we, through no fault of our own, have become subject, trapped, held hostage even, to the actions of Adam.
Adam’s nonsense totally stunk up everybody’s lives. We cant avoid it. It’s not our fault, but we wound up dealing with it just the same. There are some who will try to tell you that Adam’s sin was the result of some sort of design flaw, that we are by design “sinners.” What these universalists are neglecting is that not only did God bless (i.e. pour out favor, grace, goodness, etc.) on Adam, but he also proclaimed EVERYTHING He had made (including Adam) was “Very Good” (see Genesis 1:28,31 in whichever translation you want). There is no Adamic Design Flaw. There is only the resulting consequences of Adam’s actions. Let’s face it, he messed things up for everybody.
So, what do you do when somebody stinks up a bus and you can’t open the window? GET OFF THE BUS! Get some fresh air. It is no coincidence that Holy Spirit is described as being like the wind and is called in the Greek “pneuma” (you would do well to look up the meaning of this word). Don’t worry, another bus will come along soon enough, and that’s the one you want to ride.
“…I did my best to hold no umbrage. For three whole weeks they lost my luggage.
When I got them, my nerves was shattered. All my bags wuz torn and tattered.
They lost my bags, I lost my brain,
They lost my bags, I lost my brain,
They lost my bags, I lost my brain.
Next time gonna take the train!”
If you haven’t done so already, at some point you are going to have to decide if you want to ride the bus of Adamic Universalism and buy the lie that you are merely the product of some sort of holy design flaw. I get it, if you are still on that bus, it’s comfortable (despite the olfactory discomfort). You have probably been there so long that you don’t even notice the stench of used egg salad sandwiches anymore. It’s uncomfortable, and even a bit frightening getting off that bus and onto another. Plus, it’s hard to get rid of all that broken baggage you’ve been lugging around for so long.
I promise you this, once you leave that all behind; once you keep your gaze on the Original Blessing rather than the so-called Original Sin; once you realize that Jesus, the Second Adam, cleared out the nonsense of the first Adam; once you realize that Holy Spirit, the Pneuma will come, is came, has come, (dang it, there’s that wibbily-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff again); and once you realize that Papa is so madly, head over heals in total and complete love for you that one man’s nonsense will not ever, ever be held against you … the next time you step into an elevator and somebody lets one rip, you won’t even flinch.
Thanks for letting me take up some of your time.