The bus I wanted to take this afternoon just wasn't arriving. Undoubtedly two showed up the moment after I gave up, but I took an alternate bus. That driver, apparently, was getting training or review since there were two other people with SBS Transit uniforms on, sitting just behind the driver, and chatting only briefly with one another.
On the MRT train I discovered that the Clementi bus interchange has, at last, been replaced. The bus interchange is to be replaced with a service plaza center thing with an indoor shopping mall and such, and they built a temporary plaza across the street. Sometime in the past couple of weeks they closed the old interchange, and now they've begun ripping it up, closing at least one 7-Eleven and displacing dozens of other stores. I did take a picture of the action, prompting a woman who was watching the construction-or-demolition activity to look at me and say, ``Ah, taking a picture?'' I was, and that was exactly as far as that thread of conversation can be brought.
Coming home, I was on a different bus; its bell seemed to be disabled. I worried about this after I signalled for my stop, and hit the signal button again -- feedback is a good thing and I don't know why it's apparently not considered part of the maintenance check for the buses -- but I saw the ``Bus Stopping'' light was on, so trusted that my call was recognized. Naturally, the driver went on right past my stop. I hit the signal button a couple of more times, and found there was a bell, just a very soft one. The driver let me off just a bit past the stop. I thought about things other than the bus system today, too.
Trivia: One of the names Pete Conrad considered -- and rejected -- for his Apollo Command Module was ``Abner.'' Source: First on the Moon, Gene Farmer, Dora Jane Hamblin. That should be good fun for all the old-time-radio and space-history enthusiasts out there. Both of them.
Currently Reading: Fred Allen's Letters, Fred Allen, Edited by Joe McCarthy. Now that's something I haven't seen before: ``There will be a sixty foot dummy of me at the [ 1939 ] World's Fair built by the Ipana people. I just wanted to warn you.'' I admit I haven't read much deliberately about the 1939 World's Fair, but you'd think a sixty foot Fred Allen would get a mention somewhere in the proceedings. Meanwhile, a crack I certainly empathize with: ``... will advise if there are any books to be added to my gargantuan collection. If I collect many more volumes I am going to have trouble hauling my library in and out of New York. I am about three books away from having to use the Empire State Building and the Chrysler building for book-ends and don't know how much farther I can go without losing my reputation as the `portable bibliophile'.''