Day One 

 

Greyhound bus depots in any given, large urban setting are the locus vivendi of the new republican poverty. It barely matters which city you visit; any one with a census of more than 100,000 will do: the depots are invariably surrounded by derelict buildings, adjacent to long vacant lots littered with debris. Cheap real estate may not look great on the balance sheet but on the P&L it's a real gem.

The usually low-slung buildings (NY & Chicago are exceptions) are populate by bottom end of the social ladder, the rapidly growing social segment that knows money only because of the constant lack of it. 

America, more than any other country I have ever visited, seems forever on the move. The success of UHaul, Penske & the myriad of self-storage emporiums are the direct result of that, at least where the shrinking middle-class is concerned. Greyhound, on the other hand, transports may whose possessions fit easily into a few oversized suitcases. Except for the occasional student or the clueless foreigner, the busses are more often than not filled with Hispanics and African-Americans. The only difference between those two so-called minorities is that the former group is on its way "up", a direction the latter barely recognizes.

What struck me most as I departed from Philadelphia, though, was the very apparent shrinking of the economic distance between those about to board a bus to Sandursky, Ohio, and those lost and homeless souls scanning the parking lot for recyclable cigarette ends. The travelers surely still had homes to go to or come from; but for how much longer? The current economic presets are induced spending (and the inherent over-indebtedness) aimed at those who can least afford it. Since it is no longer possible to marginalize large social or ethnic groups  by the sheer force of prejudice Americans have invented a new, far more effective form of economic bigotry. Naturally, the poor souls now queueing for the bus to New York or Atlanta are all too happy to play their part.

Of course, I must not overlook the minor but important fact that I, too, am boarding a Greyhound bus in a couple of hours. That once again I, too, have joined the ranks of the bottom-feeders, heading for points unknown.