"Abuzz"

It’s been almost a week since The Event, and the excitement has yet to wear off.

“Good morning!” the bus driver says to me as I climb aboard the 150. She’s smiling. I haven’t seen her in a few days, so I don’t know if her smile has anything to do with The Event last Tuesday or if this is just her way. I hadn’t noticed the two times before that I’d ridden on her bus.

“Good morning,” I respond as I use my TAP card to pay my fare and head to a seat.

I like sitting by the window, curbside, near the front. Usually, I don’t have a problem finding a seat … especially at this stop near the beginning of the run.

The bus is not too full, which is about normal for this time of morning. You’ve got the usual passengers, a healthy mix of brown and beige faces, some attempting to wake up, others fired up and ready to get the day started. But there’s something different today. Just about everyone seems to be smiling. More than I remember. It could be my imagination, but I don’t think so.

I settle in for the ride toward Universal City, near where one of my favorite Starbucks is. It usually takes the better part of an hour to get out there, but I’m in no hurry. I usually crank up my iPod and listen to some tunes as I either read the paper or watch the passing scenery along Ventura Boulevard. No music for me today, though. There’s something going on and I want to check it out. I want to fully absorb the atmosphere.

There’s an older woman in the front seat, nearest the driver, and she’s reading a copy of “Dreams from My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance,” written by the president-elect in 1995. The woman’s copy looks as if it’s been around, a library copy maybe. You know, with the heavy-duty plastic cover on it. The woman looks up and around, we make eye contact and she nods before getting back to her book.

After a while, from the back of the bus I hear laughter. It’s not unusual to hear such laughter, since some high-school students ride the 150 to get to school. And you know how youngsters seem to be laughing a lot more than we adults.

I listen more carefully and I hear snippets of a conversation:

“What he needs to do now…”

“Change…”

“Landslide…”

“Maybe now I can…”

 I listen to these snippets for a good while, and before long…

 I, too, am smiling.