It's not easy being green

With the most noble of aspirations I dusted off my new favorite bike a sparkly blue Schwinn breeze 3 speed (with 2 that work) and set out for the bus stop today. It was my plan to take the bus to work with my bike, so I could ride home and stop at the farmers market. I had my organic cotton shopping bag and my crochet project of yarn from ethically treated alpacas. I was a poster child for being green. And I sat, and I sat and I sat and waited for my bus. I waited for about 45 minutes, no bus. Finally, at an impasse with the demands of work punctuality, defeated, I returned home and got in my car. So much for crochet and sunshine and heirloom tomatoes, I'm back on the 13-mpg-SUV-driving plan.
When I came back around the corner in my jeep, there was the bus, roaring past me while I waited for a train. Arg! There were two cute, blue cruisers (one even had a wicker basket with flowers on it). Even if I had waited, there would have been no room for my bike on the bus. There's never room on the bus anymore. Everybody rides bikes. Don't get me wrong. I'm glad to see more people on bikes, and using public transport. Public consciousness has shifted in the right direction, but there's also that feeling about being in on a secret before it moves into the middle of the mainstream. People try to label that certain je ne sais quois: underground, independent,fringe, but by the time you need a label for, the thrill has gone. Like moving to the "live music capital of the world" for all it's eclectic weirdness and realizing it's being starbuck-icized faster than the place that you left. Like stumbling across a great neighborhood dive bar only to roll in on a Friday at five o'clock and find it full of hipsters.