Pieces of a monologue by a fellow passenger on the Bx15 bus this morning, crossing 125th Street in Manhattan.

"I'm seventy-four years old. People look at me and they don't believe that, but I was born in '34. Now my legs just gave up."

"Back then they had el trains, here on 2nd Avenue, on 8th Avenue. People don't believe that! Horse-drawn carriages in the street!"

"Buildings were heated with coal. They were just bringing gas over. You had to put a quarter in the meter to cook! People don't know that now."

"There was no such thing as ball point pens then. They weren't invented for another 20 years! And now they leak everywhere."

"And there was no such thing as buses. ... ...Oh yes there was, yes there was."

"You don't even know how old you are... do you. Think about that!" [silence from man being addressed, who is sitting behind me] "You know what someone else told you. And you take their word for it. Because they treat you well."

"...Now even homeless people have phones! Everyone's got a phone. And they're not good for you either. Do you know how they work? No you don't. They have rays that go through your body. You know, like gamma rays, or x-rays?"

"There weren't no vegetable stores back then. Vegetables were sold off the land. And you could steal the vegetables!"

"Everything's changed now, in schools. Arithmetic became mathematics. Everything's changed!"

"And you know how the kids dress in school today, with their whole ass hanging out, and tattoos on their behinds. There's no reason, no respect."

"Aw man."