There was a nip in the air already. The official end of summer is still a couple of weeks away, but as any Torontonian will tell you the end of the Labour Day weekend with its finale of air show at the CNE, heralds the end of summer. My fellow passengers are already in there Fall wear, providing me a glimpse of this year's Fall fashions.
I steal a quick glance at my watch, it is 7:30 a.m. the TTC bus with the familiar face at the wheel, is running late. I do not know his name and I suspect that none of his passengers know it either. He reminds me of Hugo Chavez ( the Venezuelan strongman) but with personality opposite to the strong man's image. For the last year and a half, from the moment I board the bus, take the transfer he hands out, and till he drops me along with the others at the Rapid Transit Station, he becomes an integral part at the start of my day. Whether the rest of my day turns out well or not, his smile and his warm "Good Morning" scripts the day for me. He waits patiently for the middle aged lady with her bulging bags, as she hurriedly makes her way to the bus embarrassed at being late. He affectionaltely refers to her as his regular 'late passenger'. He is oblivious to the incessant of horns as the drivers behind our bus express their impatience. I have never seen him perturbed or a frown on his face. When the elements conspire and Toronto feels the last gasp of the remnants of an Atlantic hurricane or is buried under snow, courtesy of an Alberta clipper, he turns up with his smile and greeting. It may be just a job for him, but for me and I am sure for all the passengers he is a life line. He probably doesnot know how much the few minutes I spend with him on Route 134 goes to make my day.
