Passenger Alert

"Every poem breaks a silence that has to be overcome."  So wrote my literary mother, Adrienne Rich, who died this week.


Maybe it's true that every blog can do the same, and so I return inspired to the blogosphere, where I once dipped a toe for a while a few years ago.  My first entry then, as now, explained where I came up with the title of this blog.  For some of you, this will ring a bell.  


One of my favorite stories comes from the Dude.  Seems the Dude (a.k.a. Mike Levine) was riding the El in Chicago a few years ago, and the train broke down. Commuters were confused. Connections were missed. Chaos ensued. A voice came over the PA system and tried to restore order. Unfortunately, the only sound everyone heard was some version of Charlie Brown's teacher: "Waaa waa wuh wahh wahh."

More chaos. More mayhem. "Is this our stop?" "Are we on the brown line?" "How long will it take to fix this train?" "Este tren esta loco!"

Then, with the force of a deus ex machina, the voice of the train conductor emerged out of the darkness in booming clarity:

"Passengers, let me break it down for you." 

A silence fell over the crowd.  With a sigh of patient precision, the conductor spelled it all out.  The nature of the malfunction was clarified. Order was restored.  People stepped off the train almost single file and smiling as if choreographed.

I have always loved this story. I love the idea of a weary, hot voice emerging from the periphery and offering one of life's most precious gifts: clarity. Where is this voice when I'm in the throws of a major decision? Why can't this voice boom from nowhere in my classroom some days when the students are dense and the teacher is tired?  Where is that man when even the choice between red or white wine seems too much to shoulder?

So, in honor of that valiant conductor, I hereby name this blog. 
Dear readers, where and when I can, I will break it down for you as best as I know how.