I wondered about what he had said. There was a little part of me that felt proud to be a working man and sorry that he seemed to be a homeless drunkard. But another part of me felt that the old man had sensed my impatience and was being a better man than I. It made me think about class, manners, and respect for the elderly— even if the elderly person in question looks drunk and smells bad. I mean, it wouldn’t have hurt me to insist that he go first. It wouldn’t have hurt me not to run up to the train car doors like it was so important that I board right then and there. There are moments when “working man” is just another term for an immature moneymaker who’s rushing around like his life is more important than everything else around him. I don’t want to be that guy. And that’s what they old hobo taught me today on the train platform.

When I got a Flickr account in 2006, I felt compelled to publish every good photo I took. In turn, I felt compelled to document my life in photos so I could share those photos — my life — on Flickr. Then I got a Facebook and Twitter account, and I began to feel compelled to share my life there, too. I enjoyed the response, and that drove me to share more. There’s nothing wrong with the impulse to share experiences, but I have to believe that my life is worth living regardless of whether I’m acknowledged for it.

Maybe I’m having a midlife moment. I’m 42 years old. It’s unclear whether I’ve made a mark on the world. And it’s time to decide whether or not I care. I don’t have kids, my parents are getting older, and I don’t have a lot of siblings or cousins. Who is going to remember me? And does it even matter.

On the one hand, I am coming to terms with my nature. I need to communicate with others, to create my own expression and share it with the world. Looking at people’s enthusiastic self-expression in social media outlets, I can see that I am not alone.

On the other hand, I must resist the compulsion to share photos and status updates in order to add value to my experiences. I don’t need to be applauded for being cool or interesting or cultured. I don’t have to be told I have good taste or talent. It feels good, but becoming addicted to acknowledgment leads to a letdown when I don’t get it.

For a year or two now, I’ve debated whether to take my camera on certain adventures. I want to “show the folks back home!” but the equipment weighs me down and cramps my ability to enjoy my own adventure. I told my husband that I was beginning to question whether I could really experience a moment and record it at the same time, and ever since then he tells me, “live the moment, don’t record it.”

I’m not about to stop publishing to social media, but I will continue to remind myself that what matters is not whether people love your life when you’re dead. What matters is that you love your life while you’re living.

Did you know that APS has partnered with DBG (Desert Botanical Garden) to provide a free shuttle between the Valley Metro Light Rail station at Priest / Washington and the Desert Botanical Garden? I just found out a couple of weeks ago, and I’m riding it to the garden for the first time today.* This is a great convenience that I hope many people will take advantage of.

You can catch the shuttle by the gazebo in the parking lot of the little food court at the NE corner of Priest & Washington. It runs every 15 minutes from 9 AM to 7 PM.

*I sent this to my blog via Flickr in real time, but it didn’t upload. I guess it was interrupted by several incoming phone calls and it timed out. So I’m uploading it now to get the word out about the free shuttle.

I guess I just had to experience riding when a) it wasn’t Opening Weekend, b) it wasn’t a holiday weekend, and c) people had to pay to ride. Before all three of these conditions were met, the trains were miserably crowded. Now I only see people standing who choose not to sit. I am enjoying riding Metro now. I think riding it is really cool. I feel like such an urbanite living in a cosmopolitan metropolis! I’m so cool you could chill your martini in the palm of my hand!

Just don’t leave it there too long.

Well, I decided to go for it and buy a 31-day pass to ride the Metro to work. I’m just going to hope the trains get less crowded. They’re fine in the morning; it’s the afternoon I worry about. But I trust that Valley Metro wants to keep its Light Rail passengers happy and run more trains.

I took this long exposure with my G1 cameraphone. I stabilized my arm on one of the posts at the station. I must say I’m happy with the light streaks and the reflections of the station in the train windows!

I never realized their were multiple copies of this sculpture until I saw in at the Scottsdale Center for the Arts. I think the first time I saw the iconography was on a postage stamp. Taking this photo was funny. It seemed that everyone wanted their photo taken with it, and there were several photographers around. I waited patiently as one photographer took a series of shots of a couple in various poses around the sculpture. Just as they were leaving, I got ready to take my shot. Simultaneously, these exuberant little girls came running onto the scene. I snapped this photo figuring I might never get the sculpture alone. When they saw me, they stopped and stared at me like does in headlights, and I said, “I just wanted to get a photo of the sculpture by itself. It’ll just take me a second.” They left and I got my plain photo of the sculpture before they came back to play (or pose for their mother with the camera), but I like this one better.