Ain't no stopping us now

Something amazing happened today. It was the sort of thing that, as it happens, you can't believe it's happening. It started small and built up to a final triumph that defied all odds.

I don't drive to work very much anymore. The recent gas price run-up motivated me to try out the bus. And I liked it. So I bike or drive (depending on the temperature) three miles to a Park & Ride spot, then enjoy the remaining commute while reading the paper or listening to music.

But I've got errands to run this afternoon. So I set off in the trusty Civic before 7 a.m., with 19 stoplights blocking my path.

The very first light is the worst. 79th and Quivira. From what I can gather, Quivira lights are synchronized beginning about 6:30 a.m. So the lights do their thing based on time, rather than traffic. One might sit at the east/west 79th and Quivira light for a couple minutes. Not today. I had an easy left turn onto Quivira. Good start.

Next up is 77th Terrace and Quivira. It can be a toughie. Just depends on whether an apartment dweller is leaving the nearby complex. Not today.

75th and Quivira. Red light. But right turn on red! And I roll on.

Green lights on 75th at Flint, Nieman, Switzer and Frontage. That brings us up a small incline to the I-35 interchange. Two lights. The first passes with no problem. The second, a left green arrow, I sail through and onto the highway. It was then I could feel something was brewing. The feeling you might have when a pitcher reaches the 6th inning with a perfect game.

I calmed myself on the highway. No need to worry for a few miles. Stay loose. Keep the expectations low. I mean, really, is making every stoplight even possible? Stop it! Don't even think about it or you'll jinx it!

The I-35 run reaches its conclusion with nary a slowdown. This is too easy. Something has to break. I exit at West Pennway. Down the ramp and, good grief, a stoplight. And two cars waiting. Quick, veer right and take the alternate turn down to Southwest Blvd. The Boulevard light is green roughly 15 percent of the time. Somehow, miraculously, it's green today. Left turn and downtown is here. The tension is palpable.

I navigate the Broadway & Southwest Blvd. intersection with no trouble, turning right onto Broadway. Up the hill and over the Burlington Northern railroad tracks. I can't help but pause and consider my predecessors. Those who've gotten this far, only to have a stoplight crush their dreams. And then, I see it. Broadway and Pershing. A red light. Two cars waiting. See, I allowed myself to dream too big. As Tom Petty once said, "God it’s so painful, something that’s so close and still so far out of reach." (See my last blog.)

But wait. The skies are opening. The clouds parting. A green arrow! Cars begin to move just as I arrive. My hands release their death grip on the steering wheel. I can see Crown Center!

Now, I hesitate to tell you what happened next, because it's almost unbelievable. A Netflix video sits in my passenger seat, awaiting mailing. Dare I stop at the Main Post Office? That would require making it past the IRS building stoplight, a left turn at the Kessler stoplight, a drive through the mailbox drop-off lane, a right turn back onto Pershing, then a u-turn at the Kessler light. (Yes, you read that right, a u-turn!) Bottom of the 8th inning, two outs and I'm thinking of throwing a trick pitch to Derek Jeter?

But I'm just arrogant enough to try it. Drunk on my own success. I don't deserve for it all to work. But it does! And now I'm staring at the Main & Pershing intersection, one of just three remaining stoplights. I'm already looking ahead. Grand & Pershing. The light is green, but I can see the crosswalk light number is in single digits. That means the pale green light will soon change to a shade of red. I bear down, ready to accept whatever fate the stoplight gods bestow upon me. And they smile. As I pass through the intersection, the light turns yellow.

Tears of joy well up in my tired eyes as I arrive at Pershing & McGee. Many a time, a single office worker has blocked the right lane here, obstructing my entrance to the parking garage. Today is my day. It's wide open. I turn right into the garage and, honestly, I don't know what happened next. I must have parked the car and walked up to my office. But I don't remember it. All I recall are the fireworks and the ghosts of commuters past cheering my homecoming.

And I remember I had to wait for the elevator.