Riding the train

Today I'm thinking about trains. For the past few weeks, I have been riding the Metro North line from Connecticut to Grand Central. To put it in the least whiny way possible, this has been a tough winter for Metro North. The trains are (again, being as least whiny as possible) outdated, and the snowfalls up until late have been relentless. Of course, I mean relentless for southern Connecticut. In central New York, on the campus of Colgate University, I would call this weather, a mild winter. But in any case, because of the amount of train cars that were somehow damaged by the weather and in need of repair, Metro North had to reduce its New Haven line peak a.m. and p.m. trains by 10%. A letter put forth by Metro North explained that there simply was not enough space in the repair shops for all the damaged cars.

Yesterday (Monday), the New Haven line trains returned to their normal schedule. Today, the 6:33 a.m. train from Darien was canceled. "A train will be arriving in 15 to 20 minutes," a male voice came over the speakers and into the cold air of the tracks. I went inside the station house and as the minutes passed, I waited for some explanation to come over the speakers. Why was the train canceled? When the train came, 21 minutes, (the regular 7:54 a.m. train out of Darien), no explanation had been given. They didn't even tells us, I thought, as I sat in a train car with no heat (apparently the only one on the train, a different voice told me over different speakers).


It only occurred to me later, after I was off the train, had taken a subway ride, and was walking through downtown Manhattan, that I didn't know who "they" was and that it didn't matter at all why. At a comedy show I went to last year, a comedian was talking (joking, which I'll butcher) about traffic: Do you ever notice how you always need to know why there is traffic? And when the report comes on and you find out the reason --traffic is due to an accident at the bottom of the exit ramp--it's like yes, OK, uh-huh.
One could probably devote an entire year to blogging about Metro North. A train-ride-a-day-experience. It is always something. In the mornings, in the evenings, peak, off-peak. Off-peak, evening might make the best blogging material, though. I've seen someone take a baloney sandwich to the face. Actually, I sat behind that person and was splashed with Coke when a different person threw a paper cup in the baloney guy's direction. Actually, actually, though, the subway might make better blog material, entirely.

Two weeks ago, I was standing on the express train at the Union Square subway station, surrounded by many people (an understatement, but let's keep things simple). Nothing was strange about it until nothing happened. The doors were closed but the train did not move. No announcements were made. Why is this train not moving?, I thought. (But you already knew what I was thinking.) From one corner of the back part of the train that I was standing in, a jumbled, stuttering voice called out.

"Everybody wanted to go to work today. Because. Nobody went to work yesterday. No. Yesterday was President's Day. Well, you know what?" Pause. "Fuck the President. Today is February 22. My bills are paid. I didn't go to work. I stayed home and got drunk. But, no, everybody had to go to work."

Seven or so minutes and many more Fuck-the-Presidents later, a different voice called out.

"Folks, Union Square is this train's last stop. The doors are not operating properly. Everyone must get off the train."

Several seconds later, the doors opened, and several more seconds later, I stepped onto the platform. Claustrophobic, feeling a little air deprived, worried I'd miss the next train out of Grand Central, but somewhat satisfied because I had not one, but two explanations. The doors weren't working and too many people decided to go to work today and ride the subway. Now, if I could just figure out why that Metro North train was canceled today...