“The Last Stop.” I’d never seen that message on the train’s destination board before. Maybe because I never ride to the end of the line.

This morning, I’m not sure I’ll be riding the train at all. Leaving the house four minutes late, I’ll have to jog at least a third of the way to the station to make up time. On the overpass that crosses the rail line, I can see quite a way down the tracks, and don’t see headlights, so I probably have sufficient time to slow to a walk. (Sometimes they trick me and run without lights, but they usually have them on.)

At the station, we wait. And wait. The next train going the other direction comes through. Not a good sign. Still no headlights down the tracks.

How long can I wait before trekking back to the house to get the car? Of course, I’ll have to find a place to park away from the office, since first-of-semester college traffic will tie up the roads near the campus and make for a very long drive.

The train finally comes, making alternate scenario calculations moot. Of course, since there was a missing train in the interim, this one’s twice as full as usual. I rarely sit down on the train anyway, preferring to stand, but usually have space to lean against something. Not this trip. I figure we are half as packed as a Tokyo subway train. Don’t know how they do it. (Yes, I do – they employ “pushers” to shove people onto the train.)

The doors close. I glance at the destination board. It briefly flickers “Meadowview” (uh-oh – the wrong direction) then says “The Last Stop” before shutting down altogether.

“Not a good sign,” I say, getting a nervous smile from the woman next to me. The audio system (“the next stop is…”) also shuts down. At least the air conditioning is working. So far.

Without stop announcements, the train is unnaturally quiet, even though there are many more people than usual aboard. We cruise along in silence, doors opening and passengers readjusting at each station. It occurs to me that wherever a person gets off the train, that stop, for them, is the last stop.

There are many reasons to take the train (light rail, the subway): cutting your emissions profile, opportunity for exercise during the walk to and from the station, people-watching opportunities – but for me, it’s a way to get centered, shake off some of the stress of the day, and let my mind wander.

When you’re driving, you don’t want to let your mind wander too far, lest your car follow suit. Driving to work the other day, I noted in my rear-view mirror the fellow in the next lane was drifting awfully close to my bumper. He pulled alongside, and I saw his head was down, almost like he was sleeping. Then I noticed the position of his arms. He had his smart-phone (not a really good moniker in this case) in his lap and was texting while doing 70 on the freeway. He pulled ahead, head still down, and as the freeway started a gentle turn, well, he continued to go straight. (He did catch himself before going completely out of his lane.)

If it were just one texter, it wouldn’t be much of an issue. But there are many, and those texting or on the phone are just a small fraction of those “drivers” who are otherwise distracted from what should be their primary duty of the moment. In my non-scientific but lengthy poll over the last few years, I’ve seen an average of 4.5% of people behind the wheel of  moving cars who were actively texting or using a hand-held phone. There’s talk about raising the fines for those who’re caught engaging in those distractions, but until enough people have to pay enough money, I doubt they’ll change their texty-talky ways.