I have a curiosity that won't quit about the materials transit riders read.
Let's not bother with the newspapers. It's the books and magazines that tell you something more, that give you clues about people's lives.
For many years, my chief transit conveyance has been the No. 61 bus, the Roland Park-Inner Harbor bus line. In one form or another, I've been taking it to work or school since about 1959, when the fare was a dime. Back then, I was carrying school books, the Baltimore Catechisms, Latin grammar and Charles Dickens' novels -- not exactly page-turner material.
I often marvel at Baltimore's determined resistance to change. The 61 riders stick to serious reading matter.
One gentleman, I think he hails from Deepdene Road, reads nothing but the National Geographic. As we sail past Pennsylvania Station, then get bogged down in traffic at St. Paul and Biddle, he smiles as his mind takes a pictorial tour of the Highlands of Scotland, the barge canals of Flanders or the mountains of Kashmir.
Bus ridership isn't what it used to be. There are not as many bright young professionals in the seats as there once were. Maybe people are afraid of mass transit. The planners tell us there are not as many jobs downtown as in the 1970s.
But there still are some serious Yuppies on the 61's morning runs. They tend to bury their faces in running and health and fitness magazines. Occasionally, you'll see one seriously reading a magazine with a feature article like "Don't let planning for a divorce ruin your marriage" or "Don't let a divorce undermine your company."
Some days, I think the riders belong to the same book club. Two titles seem to turn up often -- "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil" and "The Shipping News." The first is author John Berendt's account of a juicy murder in an old Savannah neighborhood. It's full of gossip and other goodies. One rider said the events in the book could have happened in Roland Park.
"The Shipping News" is a serious tale by E. Annie Proulx. It won a Pulitzer Prize and seemed to be carried by serious-looking matrons. They never discussed it aloud and I don't think it could be compared with any place in Baltimore.
There are well-scrubbed young women who are still reading Edith Wharton's "Age of Innocence" even though the movie has long ago left the Senator.
You can't always judge a neighborhood by its book covers. Take, for example, the very tall man who boards the bus at Saratoga Street in the afternoon on the northbound run. He had a slender volume issued by the British Penguin Press, a translation of some sort of French erotic murder mystery. This appeared to be pretty spicy drama for the Roland Park crowd.
This free-thinker didn't make it all the way to Roland Park. He got off at Calvert Street and University Parkway. He probably lives in Oakenshawe, where such reading habits are tolerated, though in discreet moderation.
It's always fun to watch the people pile off the No. 61 when it reaches Pennsylvania Station. I guess they are Washington-bound commuters who make hefty Washington salaries. They don't carry magazines. They carry mail-order catalogs, the kind with the $600 monogrammed dog beds.
I've often wondered about bus lines that go past or very near the homes of famous writers. Should there be a necessary correlation between the No. 11 Homeland line and novelist Anne Tyler, who lives not far from a bus stop? Would the 11's riders all be glued to her "Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant" or "Accidental Tourist"?
No indeed. The No. 11 crowd tends to prefer the Wall Street Journal and occasionally the New Yorker. And you spot a lot of computer-generated charts and tables.
In a city where news of murder and mayhem regularly fill the news columns of the papers, it is uplifting to see so many people reading the Bible on the bus. Board a No. 13 crosstown bus and more than one rider will have a Bible or religious tract in hand. Some riders even carry their Bibles in zipper bags.
And I have spotted a woman who carries a Miraculous Medal novena pamphlet on the No. 15 Belair Road-Gardenville bus. She gets off at St. Alphonsus Church on Saratoga Street at Park Avenue. Perhaps the intention of her nine days of prayer is better service on the No. 15. I wouldn't doubt it.