We have Crazy John on the sidewalk of 31st street just outside the Ditmars station. He has long raggedy hair and beard and he's unwashed but he has a beatifically serene expression on his face, which makes him look like a cross between Ted Nugent and Gandhi. He speeks fluent Greek. He never panhandles but he's always around.

I live for the day when I can meet you in person and hear you say the phrase, "Ditmars Station."

That is all.

Heh. Pips' commute has as many odd folks on it as mine since she has to ride all the way up to Fordham Road. (She drove me past her school the other day, on the way back from City Island, which I have concluded is the urban version of Martha's Vineyard).

Hey, speaking of Ditmars, you wanna meet a crazy bearded character on your commute and wind up drinking with him at the Remote Sports Bar, jonmc? Anyone else is welcome, too.

My commute is all of a block's walk, but even in such a short space, there's a character: Bullets Jacket Lady is about 5'4" tall, 5'4" wide, wears a large satin Washington Bullets jacket in all weather, and smiles toothlessly at me whenever she sees me, sometimes stopping to watch me pass. Sometimes she rocks the Radio Rahim tip with a little one-speaker tape deck on her shoulder. And sometimes she's all business, grim-faced and walking with serious purpose. I make it a point to smile at her and nod like I've known her for years.

We gots Zanta

Hey, speaking of Ditmars, you wanna meet a crazy bearded character on your commute and wind up drinking with him at the Remote Sports Bar, jonmc

Sounds good to me, dawg. Usual time & place?

Yessir.

and the iPod just fired up Hanoi Rocks "Boulevard Of Broken Dreams," but the veal fattening pen is full today so that precludes thrashing around in my chair. *sigh*

Do I have to tell you your my lover, Do I have to tell you I'm your slave, and do we have to dance until we're dancing on my grave....

I wanna hang out with Hugh Janus and be all cool and Nooyawkish!

*massively craves a trip out East to meet the NYC Mechat crowd*

*but not before he stops off in Chicago to meet the Midwest Mechat crowd*

GRAH!

The strangest guy I ever saw on a commute was I guy I used to call "Fester" (in my head anyway). He was a short, round bald guy who always wore a suit. This was a SEPTA train from Delaware to Philly. He always got on at the same stop as me, which was close to the beginning of the line, so the train would be pretty empty. When we'd pull into a stop down the line, he'd mix in with the new crowd and head up into the next car, pretending like he just boarded the train. Then he'd look for a female passenger with an empty seat next to them and he'd plop right down, even if there were plenty of other seats available. Fester was Creepy.

Yeah, you gotta come up here, bro. We know how to make (hush hush) pyramids out of beer cans (shhhhhhhhh, don't tell anyone). And all the bartenders are dreamy. Well, except at certain places in Queens, where they're muscly, bossy, and thoroughly agreeable.

Hanoi Rocks vs. Saigon Kick, on the next METALCHAT.

We no longer have Forest, the affable black homeless hi IQ hobo, who's health gave out after decades on the streets of TriBeCA. He's in a nursing home in Chicago.

Forest was conversationally fluent in at least 26 languages, of course Spanish, Italian, French and German. But also two Chinese dialects, Japanese, Polish and Russian.

His specialty was all those Balkan state X-astan languages.

He also had a local tournament scrabble high score of 1253.

The funniest thing was the time I was talking to him, and an old Chinese guy and his son walked by. The old man said something in Chinese. Foest says "excuse me" and gets up to rant at the guy in Mandarin.

The old man starts to bow and grovel apologetically.

What was that about, I ask.

Forest replied:

"He said: do they allow these people here?"

"And I said: you should thank me for being here, because after they remove me they will remove you next. You're not a citizen are you? I am here fighting for your rights."

Does anyone remember the coupon fairy who used to go to the Cala Foods in SF? He'd dress up in high heels and a nice dress and leave coupons on the relevant items in the store, late at night.

great song jon. They're on tour now, just about everywhere but the states:
http://www.hanoirocks.info/tour/index.htm

I'm dying to see them.

About 15 years ago I lived downtown and rode the infamous "route 2" bus here in Atlanta. I often waited at the bus stop with a large woman who'd tell me about her diabetes, and how the illness was making the tops of her feet split open.

Coming home from work I had to wait at the train station for a bus to pick me up for about an hour, from 11pm till midnight, every Sunday night. (Was too poor for a taxi in those days, and anyway, I'd just bring a book.) In the winter months there was an older man who'd pace around the bus platform in circles to keep warm, with his artificial leg creaking every other step... screak... screak... screak...

One night while I was waiting there, a slightly disoriented woman of about 45 or so came up to me, and I could see scrapes and bruises on her face. She told me she'd been run over by a car that day, and needed to catch a bus to Georgia Tech. I looked on the schedule for her (her glasses had been broken) and I told her that she'd already missed the last bus. She wandered off into the dark, refusing my offer to call the police or somebody for her. I've often wondered what happened to her.

I still ride the train to work almost every day, but not coming from downtown, my fellow commuters are a little less colorful.