Posted June 10, 4:36 p.m.

On Friday, I promised to share video of a rider who visited "Going Public" and performed a rap song about rail and bus service. 

With no further ado, here it is: Pilsen rider Jon Esparza 38, put on a CTA-inspired outfit and stood out on the street spitting lyrics about his dissatisfaction with the CTA.  Check out his rhyming rant in the video below. 

He also asked me to post the lyrics.  Feel free to rap along.

"Yo, listen up this here's a song I wrote to express my extreme displeasure with the:
Inept, incompetent, ineffective, inadequate, insensitive, inadvertent, inattentive, inconsiderate, incomprehensible, inconvenient, incorrect, incorrigible, indecent, indecisive, indelicate, and infantile way the CTA treats us every day!"

Let me hear ya commuters:

C.T.A!
Criminals Taking Advantage!
C.T.A!
Criminals Taking Advantage!
That's all they is!

Yeah, they run two car trains on their busiest nights,
They ignore complaints like we ain't got no rights
They do as they please and no one sez a thing,
So hear are my pleas in this rap that I sing!

Now, we wait all day for the C.T.A.
Then stand in a crowd the entire route!
Yeah, we pace all night for a bumpy ride
Then get packed in like cheap sardine!

They change train times in the blink of an eye
They switch bus routes and they don't let us know!
They close down stops with no reason why
They run express or they run too slow!

C.T.A!
Criminals Taking Advantage!
C.T.A!
Ciminals Taking Advantage!
that's all they is...word!

They make lots of cash but they want mo' money, mo' money, mo money!
They raise the fares and do as they like
And now they want yet ANOTHER fare HIKE!!??!
Huh! No way, joseaaaaaaaaaay..!

'Cos, we spend all day (night!) waiting for a bus (train!)
Or at the least a very long while
And then this happens to all of us:
We see four [bleeps] in a single file!

C.T.A!
Criminals Taking Advantage!
C.T.A!
Criminals Taking Advantage!
C.T.A!
Criminals Taking Advantage!
That's all they is...Word and peace out!

And if you want to speak your mind or exhibit CTA-inspired art of any kind, let me know at goingpublic@tribune.com or post it in a comment.  I'll do my best to offer you a public transit platform for your expression.

Posted June 6, 1:51 p.m.

I am so excited right now.  As a longtime rap fan who is addicted to VH1's "Miss Rap Supreme" and wants the Wu-Tang to perform at her wedding,  I am honored that a rider is coming in today to share his CTA rap with me.  The lyrics reflect his angst with the system so even hip-hop haters might find themselves nodding their heads (yes, yes y'all) as he performs.

You're right.  I can't keep this all for myself, so come back to this blog on Monday morning when I will post an excerpt of his public transit-related performance.  That's right, I plan to videotape it. Till then, put your hands in the air, and wave 'em like you just don't care...and if you're sick of CTA and all of their delays, somebody scream "Oh yeah!"

OK, I'm done.  I promise.  Stay tuned for Monday's mini-concert and much, much more.

Posted March 21 - 12:08 p.m

I like to consider myself a patron of the public transit arts, so please feel free to share your CTA-related songs, photos, poems, music and other artistic expressions. I know it can be hard out there, but as long as you keep it clean, I'll post it.

Let's start with this public transit prose from Bill Montgomery in Lincoln Park, who catalogued what he called "One Hour in Hell," copyright: July, 2007. Here's wishing him a better CTA summer.

July >>7:50am. The alarm is ringing, drilling through my hangover. I wake to a bright, hot July morning. In my drunken stupor, I forgot to turn on the air-conditioning and I wake up dehydrated, sweaty and miserable. The air is thick; it's 90 degrees already.

>>8:36am. After 15 minutes of waiting for a cab in the direct sunlight, I'm on the verge of passing out. I see a 22 bus crawling down the street. It looks air-conditioned. I get on the bus and sit down; unaware of the hell I'm about to go through.

>>8:45am.The bus stops and a multitude of people board. It's standing room only now because half the people sitting are fat and take up two seats. I look up to see a cute girl standing next to me. With a smile I get up and offer my seat. Without looking at me or saying "thank you," she sits down in a huff, pulls out a book and starts reading; I guess the pleasure was all mine.

>>8:55am.The next stop brings more people to the standing room only bus. The angry bus driver commands everyone to move back as far as possible so the next herd of people can get on. I'm wondering how this is permissible by law. The bus is so crowded that four different people are literally touching me with either their elbows, shoulders, or of course, their stomachs. The smell of everyone's breath coupled with my hangover is creating a gag reflex so strong my eyes are watering.

>>8:56am. I'm trying to shift my way into a position so no one is touching me. Everyone looks angry. Every time someone says, "excuse me," it sounds sharp and impatient, followed closely by a dirty look. Standing next to me is a heavyset black woman. While eating a Mc Donald's sandwich her cell phone rings. "It's on the stairs," spraying crumbs. "It's in the plastic bag on the stairs, no I got to call you back!" As she exits, I'm imagining how glorious the cigarette is going to taste the instant I'm off the bus.

>>9:03am. As more people file in, I see an obese woman plow through the irritated people, sending the unsuspected reeling like bowling pins. Wondering where she's going, I look back and see her target is an empty seat no one wants because it's next to a sleeping bum with a puddle at his feet. The bus pass she's wearing around her neck by a shoestring indicates she's a seasoned CTA rider.

>>9:06am. I look at the time, amazed I've been on the bus for almost 40 minutes. I'm praying for this ride to be over when I hear someone sneezing. Holding my breath, I turn and look, already feeling sick as I imagine the exotic germs penetrating my body. I see an older man sneeze again into his hand, wipe his nose, and then with the same hand, resume holding the standing-pole. I then made the decision that I'd rather fall through the window then touch the standing-pole.

>>9:16am. Clark and Lake. The majority of the riders exit at this stop. A seat opens up and I wearily sit down. At the next stop a lady on her way out knocks me on the back of the head, dragging her purse across my face. No apology. If I had a gun, I'd be re-loading now; I can't wait to get to work so I can scream at everyone.

>>9:21. Clark and Jackson. I made it. Like a Phoenix, I leap off the bus, pissed off and gasping for fresh air, thinking I'd rather walk to work on my knees then go through that again.