Half Million Dollar Baby

I just read an interesting article about how the city of Palm Desert, California, is planning on spending $500,000 for a bus stop at Westfield Shopping Center. And the first thing that ran through my head was ‘’Are these people bloody insane?’’ Five Hundred Thousand Dollars for one covered bus stop? When that baby is complete I’m moving into that bus shelter and getting another dog. Because not only will it cost more than some homes in the desert, it will also have more amenities than most working people have.

Anyone who has had to wait for a bus at an uncovered stop in Palm Desert during the summer hours can tell you that it is far more pleasant lying naked in the middle rack of your oven with the temperature at 400 degrees than to, no, wait, it’s EXACTLY THE SAME! And while a luxurious, half-million dollar, softly misted rest stop would be like heaven - because, let’s face it, the only people using public transportation are working people and teenagers who are too young to own their first Bentley – I’m sure that many people would simply be happy to have an over-sized beach umbrella from Home Depot.

When I first arrived in the desert a few years ago, I had no idea of how hot it got in the summer. That’s why I foolishly put on a pair of shorts, walking sandals, and carried a large handbag filled with lots of unnecessary items and headed off in the morning, on foot, for a day in the city. I had no hat, no portable umbrella, no sun block, but what I really lacked was common sense.

Most of my memories of that time come back to me in waves, like the pain you feel from a third-degree burn. There is one image, however, that comes in clear. As I approached a bench at a bus stop that had been sitting in the full sun, I could see the heat rising from the surface. It created a ‘’mirage’’ like image of the approaching bus. Everything was blurred and wavy, like my over-heated brain at the time. I decided to run for it and go to the nearest mall for the rest of the day. As I got closer, the bus seemed to get farther off in the distance. That’s because there wasn’t really a bus, only something off in the distance that looked like one in the heat waves. I would have given anything, including my soul, for some shade to wait in. There wasn’t even a doorway to stand in, just that steaming bench and the metal sign. I was terrified of accidentally touching that pole and leaving a bit of charred flesh behind.

Now I get around the city by air-conditioned car, or zipping about on my electric bicycle. But I still see people waiting for buses at those dreaded uncovered stops. Some will be standing near buildings all crammed together to get as much shade as possible, while others simply sit on that grill-like bench looking as though they are being cooked alive.

Perhaps I will just have to make a point of going to a City Council meeting soon and give them my thoughts about how well $500,000 could be spent in Palm Desert. I sure hope there is a bike rack available at these meetings.