If your schedule is a little different, it's possible to go downtown every day and still miss Spokane's version of daily bustle.

That's true for me. I'm always at my desk before the morning rush and headed home hours before most call it a day.

I was reminded of this dynamic this morning, a day off for me. I drove one of our cars out to Spokane Valley to drop it off for servicing. And though someone at the dealership would have driven me home, I opted instead to take the bus.

According to the transfer I got from the driver, I boarded the downtown bound No. 90 at 7:16.

A preschool-age boy across from me asked this guy who looked to be about 70 what he had in a bag he was holding. “I got me a chicken leg,” the man said, before turning his attention to the youngster's snow/rain apparel. “Say, are those new boots?”

Anyway, after arriving downtown and waiting to head home, I couldn't help but notice that Spokane seemed wide awake and ready to go. Maybe the wet streets added to the sense of a city shifitng into gear.

Even the sparrows outside the STA Plaza seemed a bit more urban than when I normally see them. Not having a schedule with me, I asked one of the birds when the No. 43 would arrive. But as it didn't know me, it declined to make eye contact and continued about its business.  

When you fleetingly see someone crying in public, your imagination has to provide the context.

This girl looked like she was 17 or 18. She had just gotten off an STA bus that had parked at the northeast corner of Sprague and Post.

Her face was a mushed up mess of still-bubbling emotion. Some anger. Some hurt.

And maybe there was some feeling of being out of control because she had momentarily lost her ability to maintain the mask she usually shows the world.

But there was no mistaking the tears.

Maybe it was no big thing. Perhaps that kid has a meltdown every other day.

It would be pointless to guess about what triggered it.

Still, it was impossible not to wonder. And to wonder how many people are crying in downtown Spokane at any given time.

Things usually get better, of course. But as a stranger, you don't really get to see that.

By then, the faces are dry and the masks are back in place.

www.spokesman.com

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The pedestrian stylings of those walking in downtown Spokane often leave a bit to be desired in the best weather conditions.

Sidewalk hogs, distracted phone yakkers, jaywalkers…I'm sure you could draw up your own list.

But when there's snow, ice and slush to contend with, things get even more iffy.

People understandably wanting to see where they are stepping have a tendency to look down while walking. And that can lead to scenes that resemble rival rams about to butt heads. Then there's the situation where someone walks up behind an individual who has stopped. That can look like a full-bodied goosing, a clumsy attempt to simulate intimate social congress or, at least, start a conga line.

Better to look up and see where you are going. Even if your shoes get wet.

“Hello Paul,

“My wife, Sandy, and I were having a latte at Madeleine's Wednesday morning and it all of a sudden dawned on us that we were sitting right where the amazing and magical mechanized Christmas displays were in The Crescent window,” wrote Jeff Nadeau.

“What a difference a few decades make. From staring in through the windows in rapt fascination as children, to staring out through the windows with pangs of nostalgia as adults.”

One problem with avoiding downtown Spokane because you don't like the parking options is that this policy rules out the possibility that you will experience the minor thrill of happening onto a miracle spot.

You know — a legit, roomy streetside opening right in front of your destination.

I was off work last week but still had occasion to drive downtown just about every day. And time after time, the perfect parking spot beckoned just as I arrived at my destination.

Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket. 

Rode my bicycle to work this morning.

Yes, it was a bit brisk. But I wanted to be able to say I had bike commuted at least one day in every month of 2011.

Once I got downtown, I took a little detour before heading to the Review Tower. I rolled over to Main to see the illuminated Madonna and child while it was still dark out.

And there it was, where it always is at this time of year, on the corner of The Bon, er, Macy's.

I know I am not alone in thinking of it as one of the true signals that the Christmas season has arrived in Spokane.

As I made a slow turn and admired the lighted art above me, I heard some guy in a hardhat talking on a phone. He wasn't happy about something.

I tried to tune him out and took one more glance up at the colorful scene.      

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Who remembers when United and Northwest had ticket offices practically across the street from one another in downtown Spokane, staffed by actual humans?

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Overheard in the little coffee shop inside the STA Plaza.

Customer: “How much is the newspaper?”

Young woman behind the counter: “It depends on which one you're getting.”

Customer: “Today's.”

It's 75 cents. Our price. Cheap.

If I'd had my wits about me, I would have told her to put it on my tab.

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You know how it's kind of frustrating when you come up with conversation material and don't get to use it? Sure.

Well, there's this guy named Al who operates a small business downtown. I duck in to his place most weekdays and usually see him.

I want to convey to him that I listen to the various things he says to me. So I've been ready with “Hey Al, are you doing karate this summer or do they not have classes at this time of year?”

But he must be on vacation or working a different schedule. Because I haven't seen him in days.

The thing is, I am really ready to use that line. So be forewarned. If I see you when I'm out on my midmorning walkabout, I just might ask if you have been doing karate this summer.

I guess I could have used that on Marcie (Marcy?) the pharmacist at Rite Aid, my next stop. But I was sort of distracted by the fact that “Won't Get Fooled Again” by The Who was playing as the in-store background music.

I've always liked that song and suppose I should have enjoyed the moment. But it didn't seem quite right.

There should have been some get-off-my-lawn type yelling “Turn that racket down!”

As usual, I'm living in the past.

Then, heading west on Riverside I noticed this good-looking young couple looking around in a way that signaled they were lost. I asked if I could help.

That turned out to be easy. They wanted to go to Madeleine's and it was quite nearby.

As we parted, I thought about a conversation I overheard at work yesterday afternoon. A colleague I'll call “Tom” said the S-R ought to do a series of promotions featuring pictures of attractive people reading the paper. But another co-worker — let's call her “Ruth” — countered that good-looking people don't read the paper.

Anyway, the Madeleine's couple would have been just right for Tom's campaign. And I suspect Ruth was kidding.

After that, I went into the Post Ofiice. Wanted to buy some stamps for my mom. A counter clerk went to a bit of trouble to track down the “Evergreens” strips I requested.

On my way out, I passed a bunch of people going through security before being allowed to head toward federal court. In the midst of this small crowd were three or four priests in clerical attire. I considered telling the city editor about that. Then I imagined what she might say.

“When AREN'T there priests appearing in court?”    
   

This a photo of what used to be Thudpucker's restaurant.

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