Muni Diaries Bug Fixed

Calling it a bug and saying I fixed it makes me sound so much more badass. Really, it was simply a matter of changing the default for new users from “subscriber” to “contributor.”

I realize many people have registered with us, which is great, heartwarming, and exactly what we want: a community-driven site. But you may have been frustrated by trying to figure out how to post your own diary.

Now, when you register, you’ll automatically become a contributor. After registration, if you’re not already there, click the “Site admin” link down on the right there under META, which takes you to the dashboard. From there, click “Write.” Compose your diary, adding photos and other media if you’d like, then click “Submit for review.” That’ll send it to one of our editors.

If you’re not done, and would like to give your Pulitzer-worthy mind more time to stew over whatever it is that brought you here, hit “save,” walk away, and come back at your leisure.

These things will become more streamlined in the future, I hope. I like WordPress, but would love to see the site become more customized down the road.

For now, thanks for reading, commenting, writing, telling your friends … whatever it is you’ve done. Thanks. And keep doing it, please. — Jeff

Muni Fails Miserably for Bay to Breakers

My own experience* aside, here’s a great analysis from the good folks at SFist of Muni’s utterly botched handling of yesterday’s street race in the city.

* So we didn’t make it quite to the ocean. More like Clayton and Fell, where we dropped off at a friend’s place to use the alternative bathroom (the Panhandle-turned-toilet was overrun with revelers).

After some much-needed rest and snacking, we headed over to Clayton and Fulton, where, we were promised by Next Bus, we’d be able to get an outbound 5-Fulton in five minutes. When we arrived at the stop, sure enough, we looked east and saw a bus at what we guessed was Masonic and Fulton. After a long day of drinking and walking, it was like seeing an oasis in the desert.

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Tales of the 49

I spent much of last Monday working at home. So, the first people I came into contact with all day were fellow 49 riders, headed north on Van Ness from the Mission, around 6 p.m. Needless to say (it was my own fault, goddamn me) I don’t recommend this to be your first, face-to-face interaction with the outside world.

Tale 1: There’s a woman on the bus with her tiny kid on her lap, and her baby paraphernalia, including a stroller, leaning on the seat next to her. I hate Seat Jabbas; you know – the people who take up enormous amounts of horizontal space, thanks to their bag, their computer, their food, etc. etc. etc. Yet, I can draw the distinction between unknowing/uncaring asshole, and a woman who clearly did not prefer Muni for whatever errand she was doing. We all love to hate cars, but this woman could probably use one.

In comes a crusty, probably not crazy but definitely pushy, woman who demands the mom take her stuff off the seat. Her reasoning? “You didn’t pay for all those seats.”

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