Friday, May 13, 2011

The Wednesday that Will Live in Infamy

Yes, I'm still talking about Wednesday night. The Boston Globe's Brian McGrory captures the episode well in today's column--without even being there. That's why he's a columnist and I'm a ...blogger with two followers.

Thursday, May 12, 2011

Love Means Never Having to Say You're Sorry

"The Red Line is experiencing delays due to a disabled train at Alewife." Or Park Street. Or wherever.

We've all heard those words announced over the MBTA loudspeaker from time to time (okay, well, we've all strained our ears to decipher the words through the static). But, aside from the inconvenience of being late or having to find alternate transportation, have we stopped to consider what that really means?

Yes, it means the train is not moving. But the train isn't sitting in the tunnel by itself; there are people on that train, by gum! What does it mean to them...the passengers and crew...stuck...sometimes for hours...without food or water...or bathroom facilities...like tonight...like me?

Tonight I was on the infamous disabled train. Only three short months into my Red Line career, and I end up with a whopper of a delay. Left the office at 6; got home at 9:30. During the span of time in between, there were many, many "I'm sorry's" from the T personnel. And, truthfully, none of us passengers blamed the T staff, who were about as distressed as we were and were doing their best to get the bloody thing in gear. Still, they have clearly been drilled on the importance of apology, and I couldn't help wonder if they spent less time saying I'm sorry maybe they could spend more time trying to get the train moving.

Were we told "there is a problem with the train," and that it would be "moving into Davis momentarily." Ah, to be so close to my destination and yet so far away. After the first hour (and five or six apologies and "momentarily" comments) people who had been sitting offered seats to those who had been standing. The temperature rose, and we wriggled out of spring coats.

No phone service, but anyone who was getting the T alerts would know about the delay. Or would they? When I got home I had just one T alert about the Red Line running slow (at 6:07 pm) due to a signal problem at JFK/UMASS, nowhere near Davis.

I was pretty calm--what can you do? I thought of everyone behind us. No one was getting into Davis with us sitting in the way. I was slightly worried that someone might freak out. Or that someone had the measles. But I didn't feel in danger (until the nice T lady announced that we were not in any danger; I mean, if they have to say it, there must be something dangerous.)

I also made a mental note to always be prepared for this in future:
  • Have plenty of reading material.
  • Have a fully charged iPod touch (to play Angry Birds when people are talking too much for me to read).
  • Use the restroom before leaving home or work.
Because you never really know when something like this is going to happen. (Although, 9 times out of 10,  I believe it happens when you are headed home, not when you are headed to work. Sorry.)

Friday, May 6, 2011

T Beats bin Laden!

Yes, it's true--news about the increase in T ridership was actually the lead story in Thursday's Boston Globe, knocking Osama bin Laden "below the fold" for the first time since Monday!

As of March 2011, T ridership was up 5 percent over volume in October 2008. The story reported that the upswing is likely the result of a recovering economy (more people going to jobs) and rising gas prices. Green line riders saw the heaviest increase, but the Red, Orange and Blue lines were logging 516,700 riders per day.

Although I've rarely felt more like a number than when I read that, I can certainly agree that this is news that trumps the third consecutive day of bin Laden round-the-clock coverage.

And, speaking of bin Laden, today's news reports are that his terrorist associates were plotting to derail trains in the US in recognition of the 10-year anniversary of 9/11. Now I have that to worry about. Just when I had almost--almost--put a hold on my other train-related fears. Like the fear that a crazy person will get on the train and shoot everyone. Or the fear that somehow it would be possible for someone to transmit bedbugs from their home to my person just by sitting in close quarters in those tightly packed cars. Or the fear that the Longfellow Bridge will collapse just as my train reaches the point of no return, and I'll sink into the Charles with hundreds of my fellow riders, the train car becoming our collective underwater tomb.

The small consolation is that the story would doubtless make Page 1, above the fold. And probably for several days.