Monday, 15 September 2008

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  The (Metro)Link Between Life and Death

  The greater Los Angeles metropolitan area has a population of over 17 million people.  This population is sprawled across five counties (Los Angeles, Ventura, Orange, Riverside, and San Bernardino) which encompass an area of roughly 32,000 square miles.  The Southland is huge in terms of overall area, which makes it different from other metropolises (such as New York, Boston, and Chicago) that have higher population densities.  Because of the expanse of the Southland, it is not uncommon for people to travel several miles to get to work or school.  Public transportation is virtually a rumor in Los Angeles as most people choose to drive themselves as taking a bus for a 20-mile commute is seemingly impractical.  While buses and the Metrorail (which is LA’s version of a subway) offer alternatives to driving, they are only useful for traveling several blocks (and even traveling only a few blocks takes a long amount of time).  Many Southlanders work in adjacent counties and have to travel several miles, and for these people the Metrolink commuter trains offer an alternative to driving.  These trains travel long distances between the five counties, and their few stops makes traveling relatively quick and easy.  I live in the middle of Los Angeles county and work in Ventura county, which means my commute is 50 miles and takes approximately one hour one way.  I’ve often considered taking the Metrolink commuter train to work.  I conveniently live and work within walking distances of Metrolink commuter train stations, so it would be reasonable to utilize this service.  However, I never seriously considered taking the MetroLink because (1) I like my car and (2) I’m too lazy to look into train fares, departure times, etc.  Every day on my commute to and from work, I see the Metrolink train that I would be on because it travels with me along the Simi Valley freeway.  Like clockwork, I see this train at the exact same time.  But, on September 12, 2008 on my way home, I didn’t see this train like I usually do.  I didn’t see it cross Los Angeles Avenue in Moorpark like I’m accustomed to seeing.  That’s because earlier that afternoon a 2000-ton freight train refused to recognize the Metrolink’s right to cross the Los Angeles / Ventura county line at the Santa Susana Pass.  The passenger train hit the commercial freight head-on.  This caused the front car of the Metrolink to scrunch like an accordion, instantly pulverizing more than 100 passengers.  This was a very sad day for the city of Los Angeles.  Twenty-five people were killed and more than 130 people were injured in the worst disaster in Metrolink’s history.

  It should be clear that I would not have been on that particular train that crashed.  For one thing, it was going toward my work and I was going home.  But, this train did come from the train station next to my apartment in downtown Burbank, and it was going to where I work in Ventura county.  That makes it kind of relevant to my life, and as a despondent individual who has a history of wrestling with issues of life and death, this kind of freaked me out.  And the more I thought about it, the more I was freaked out...

  If I were on that train, there is no doubt that I would have perished.  Most of the injured passengers were in the front car, and I always sit in the front.  This is true for car rides, airplane trips, and roller coasters.  I would suppose that my body would be smashed like an Idaho potato and my face would be mangled beyond recognition (although I would still look better than Lil’ Jon).  It would take at least a day for the rescuers to identify my body.  They would find my wallet, along with my drivers license and the two dollars that were in there.  The police would notify my parents, who would be shocked because they had no idea that I took the commuter train to work.  My parents would weep for a week and my older brothers would weep for two days.  One of my brothers would call my best friend Violeta and tell her the tragic news, and she would in turn tell a few more of my friends and colleagues.  No one would bother to tell my work, and my boss would fire me (via a nasty voicemail message) after three days of not hearing from me.

  News would slowly spread throughout my hometown of Cerritos, although most people would respond with, “Who?”  My funeral would take place at Forest Lawn in Cypress, California one week after the accident.  It would be attended by family members, current friends, and a few friends from high school (no friends from college would attend).  My brother would give a rousing eulogy about how I was an all-around perfect individual and the greatest fantasy football manager ever.  My female friends would confess to each other that they were all secretly in love with me.  The funeral service would be more touching than I probably deserved.  I would be cremated and the urn would be placed somewhere in my parents’ house.  After several weeks of inactivity on Xanga, my subscribers would assume that I finally found happiness and, therefore, stopped blogging.  But, they’ll still have TheTheologiansCafe, so they won’t really care.

  Two years later Sarah will find out about my death and her reaction will be negligible.  Michelle Branch, Liz Phair, KT Tunstall, Carl Macek, Dan Marino, KRS-One, and Stephanie the Starbucks girl will never hear about the death of Shane Varnet.  All of these people have greatly impacted my life and have made a lasting impression on my character.  Although not wholly, they make up a large part of the essence of my existence, even though they don’t know I exist.  The fact that I am totally insignificant to these absolutely significant people is defeating and makes me wish I was onboard that commuter train.

  I don’t understand my trains of thought.

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