I’ve decided to take the train up to Portland for this evening’s art opening. The drive is far faster, just me, the radio, and the road, but I dread I5 in the wet darkness. Plus, public transportation is inevitably a treasure trove (or land mined field) of unexpected experiences. Who knows, perhaps on the train or on one of the Portland TriMet buses I board today I’ll encounter a wealthy eccentric. I’ll choose a seat next to her because I like her curiously color coordinated outfit. We talk. She likes poodles and rainstorms. I also learn that she specifies a color for each day of the week. Blue for tuesdays, brown for wednesdays, orange for thursdays... Not only does she wear the color of the day, she only eats foods to match that day. I give her my satsuma in a gesture of solidarity. Later she tracks me down at the gallery and commissions a massive work of art, an exploration in color. I say YES! It could happen. By riding the train I am opening the door to many possibilities.