What has become of us?

This is not going to be my typical blog entry, no funny quips or observations about pregnancy.  In fact, what I have observed saddens me, truly. 

I had a meeting downtown yesterday.  I took the metro from the west end and then south along the Yonge line.  The meeting was in the afternoon, I was traveling at about 2:00.  There were not many on the train, everyone had a seat.  The meeting stretched long and I found myself returning home during rush hour, around 5:00.  Peek travel time starts in Toronto at about 4:00  and can last for several hours.  If you are unlucky you may find yourself standing on the platform as several trains pass you by, to laden with customers to even accept one more.  Typically, when I find myself needing to travel during the busiest hours, I don't bother to take a seat.  Even if one is available when I enter the train, I know that someone will get on further down the line that actually needs it, someone older, or carrying groceries or pregnant.  I find a comfortable place to stand, where I can hold on to a rail or lean against a bulkhead, where I hope that I can maintain at least a small amount of personal space.

It's summer, so it's not difficult to see when a woman is really pregnant.  There's no winter jacket that covers her baby bump.  She's not camouflaged by a long woolen scarf.  In fact, if she is as far a long as my wife, she's probably walking like she is trying to steal a large watermelon from the grocers, by hiding it in the waistband of her underpants.  She's breathing like there is very little oxygen in the train, and she might even be rubbing her belly and staring at it like there is no one else around. 

On my trip home there were no less than four of these very visible woman standing on the train.  Standing!  The train was filled with teenagers dully bobbing their heads to music that the rest of us could hear (yes I'm old!), several guys in suits finger bashing their blackberries, and a bunch of heavyset dudes giving off the same odor as the damp comic books they had their faces buried in.  I know everyone saw the same women I did, but not one of them offered up their seat.  I was angry and I was embarrassed.  Embarrassed for the men in their seats for this display of weakness.  I saw each of them glance up, take note of the women and then go right back to whatever they were doing.

What has happened to common decency?  What's changed to make us into a nation of individuals more concerned with ourselves rather than those that may need our help?

Then something happened that calmed me.  A young girl, she couldn't have been much older than 10, reached over and tapped one of the pregnant women on the arm.  In a very quiet voice she offered the woman her seat. 

So maybe all is not lost.  Maybe there are still decent people out there.  Maybe it's just that their small voices are hard to hear over the concussive waves of base pounding out of iphone stuffed ears, the clickity clack of texting and the trumpet farts of socially inept comic book guys.  I have to hope so for the sake of the babies I'm bringing into the world.