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:
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.
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.
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.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Sanity, At Last
I've been away for a while, first just busy, then traveling for a week in London and Barcelona. I'll say more about that (and the excellence of the public transit in those two cities) in a later post. For now, I must remark on the best thing that has happened so far in my short time commuting on the Red Line.
Earlier this week, despite it being school vacation week and, one would expect, less busy for commuters, the train was completely packed. And I mean completely. Packed. Like sardines packed. I was most fortunate to have a seat, but sometimes those people standing, hovering above you can really put a shadow over your reading material. Plus I was really scrunched in between two other people.
But I digress. The great thing that happened was this: At Harvard Station, the conductor announced that the train was being redirected and would go "express" to Charles/MGH (bypassing Central and Kendall Stations). No doubt some of the riders were inconvenienced by this action, most of all those who were unable to translate the static-y announcement that was repeated several times at varying volume. But I was ecstatic. I mean, finally, sanity. The train is already too full. Why stop and let more people on? Really?
Why the T doesn't do this more often I don't know, but I will attempt to find out and report back.
Earlier this week, despite it being school vacation week and, one would expect, less busy for commuters, the train was completely packed. And I mean completely. Packed. Like sardines packed. I was most fortunate to have a seat, but sometimes those people standing, hovering above you can really put a shadow over your reading material. Plus I was really scrunched in between two other people.
But I digress. The great thing that happened was this: At Harvard Station, the conductor announced that the train was being redirected and would go "express" to Charles/MGH (bypassing Central and Kendall Stations). No doubt some of the riders were inconvenienced by this action, most of all those who were unable to translate the static-y announcement that was repeated several times at varying volume. But I was ecstatic. I mean, finally, sanity. The train is already too full. Why stop and let more people on? Really?
Why the T doesn't do this more often I don't know, but I will attempt to find out and report back.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Counting My Blessings
Today was a lovely spring day in Boston, with mild temperatures and beaming sunshine. I went to the gym in Watertown, which requires an earlier than usual "awake" mode for my person in order to make it to the Davis spot in time to get to work. While exercising, I watched a news story of a T electrician who had fallen in a 30 foot hole between the tracks at the Charles/MGH station. So sleepy was I that it took me a few minutes to make the connection. "They're busing passengers from Kendall to Broadway? Wait a minute--that means me!"
Upon leaving the gym, I heard that the firefighters had, in fact, freed the man, who had suffered severe trauma to his legs. Still, I thought, the Red Line will be a mess. I acted decisively, and drove to Watertown Square to catch the 504 express bus to downtown.
The MBTA express bus is a beautiful thing. I took an express for many a year in my younger days. What worried me was not knowing if I'd find parking. Imagine my joy when I pulled into the Watertown Yard and found it only half full--at close to 8 am!
Not knowing how much the parking cost--or how much money and what denominations I had on me, exactly--I had the foresight to pull my roll of quarters from my stash in the car. My luck was doubled when I found a $5 bill in my wallet, the exact cost of parking. The bus was waiting, and I marched on, T pass in hand.
"It doesn't take that," the driver said.
"It doesn't take it?" My heart sank. As it turns out, the subway/local bus pass is useless on the beautiful, glorious express bus.
I had the money, so I paid. In quarters, much to the disgust of the driver. And the Watertown Yard had my car, so I paid to go back to it tonight. But at least I didn't fall in a hole and break my legs. And I didn't ride the Red Line today.
Upon leaving the gym, I heard that the firefighters had, in fact, freed the man, who had suffered severe trauma to his legs. Still, I thought, the Red Line will be a mess. I acted decisively, and drove to Watertown Square to catch the 504 express bus to downtown.
The MBTA express bus is a beautiful thing. I took an express for many a year in my younger days. What worried me was not knowing if I'd find parking. Imagine my joy when I pulled into the Watertown Yard and found it only half full--at close to 8 am!
Not knowing how much the parking cost--or how much money and what denominations I had on me, exactly--I had the foresight to pull my roll of quarters from my stash in the car. My luck was doubled when I found a $5 bill in my wallet, the exact cost of parking. The bus was waiting, and I marched on, T pass in hand.
"It doesn't take that," the driver said.
"It doesn't take it?" My heart sank. As it turns out, the subway/local bus pass is useless on the beautiful, glorious express bus.
I had the money, so I paid. In quarters, much to the disgust of the driver. And the Watertown Yard had my car, so I paid to go back to it tonight. But at least I didn't fall in a hole and break my legs. And I didn't ride the Red Line today.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
The Red Line Workout
There are 82 steps in the series of stairs that lead from the train platform to the street at South Station. Climbing them is my morning workout, mainly because I can't get to the escalator, clogged as it is with people still wearing their puffy winter coats well into March. I don't mind the stairs, because I like to keep moving, but I sometimes feel winded at the very top, and I have to wonder, "Am I really out of shape?"
In the morning, waiting for the train at Davis, I try to position myself in an open area where there aren't too many people. This is my strategy for getting a seat. Getting a seat is not guaranteed, even though the train originates only one stop away. I usually stand on a narrow strip of the platform, because fewer people squeeze in there. This puts me toward the middle-rear of the train.
Lately I have noticed, when the train is gliding into Davis, that the first car often has many free seats. One day, I tried to stand toward the front end. It worked pretty well, because I got a seat, and when we got to South Station, I was so far from the escalator that the crowd had cleared by the time I got there. That day, I rode the escalator. It's striking what can make one happy at 8:16 in the morning.
In the morning, waiting for the train at Davis, I try to position myself in an open area where there aren't too many people. This is my strategy for getting a seat. Getting a seat is not guaranteed, even though the train originates only one stop away. I usually stand on a narrow strip of the platform, because fewer people squeeze in there. This puts me toward the middle-rear of the train.
Lately I have noticed, when the train is gliding into Davis, that the first car often has many free seats. One day, I tried to stand toward the front end. It worked pretty well, because I got a seat, and when we got to South Station, I was so far from the escalator that the crowd had cleared by the time I got there. That day, I rode the escalator. It's striking what can make one happy at 8:16 in the morning.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Every Day Should Be Friday
Okay, so I have not written a blog post for a long, long time. I admit it, my commute to downtown Boston is not all that fascinating. More important, my commute has left me precious little time to do anything other than work, eat, sleep. Work, eat, sleep. Or, to quote a greeting card I got from a friend one time, with a picture of a goldfish in a bowl, "Ate, slept, swam around the bowl. Ate, slept, swam around the bowl. What's new with you?"
Today was Friday. And Friday is the happiest day of the week. The commute is so much easier on a Friday. I pulled out of the driveway at 7:34; got to the parking spot at 7:49; got to Davis Station at 7:54. Train arriving…didn’t run…still made it. Walked up stairs at South Station at 8:16 am.
I believe that calculates to a 42-minute commute, minus the five minutes or so it takes me to walk across the Summer Street bridge to the office. I actually got there about 8:26...less than an hour door to door, my own personal best!
It has been a busy couple of weeks since I last wrote. For the second time in six weeks I got the random search. This time they swabbed my bag with a cotton-like square and put the square into a machine. Checking for explosives, no doubt. Happy to report I was clean. Even happier to report I didn't miss a train because of it!
All of the snow has melted, and getting to the parking spot in north Cambridge (Davis Square vicinity) is much easier than it was a month ago. This week, as I walked to the train, the birdsong was amazing. Who knew there were so many crazy birds in north Cambridge waiting for the time change to happen so they could sing their little hearts out every morning? And what are they thinking, settling in Cambridge, when they could be out in, say, Concord, near Walden Pond or some more bird-friendly place? What kind of bird decides to settle in Cambridge?
Something to research for future.
Today was Friday. And Friday is the happiest day of the week. The commute is so much easier on a Friday. I pulled out of the driveway at 7:34; got to the parking spot at 7:49; got to Davis Station at 7:54. Train arriving…didn’t run…still made it. Walked up stairs at South Station at 8:16 am.
I believe that calculates to a 42-minute commute, minus the five minutes or so it takes me to walk across the Summer Street bridge to the office. I actually got there about 8:26...less than an hour door to door, my own personal best!
It has been a busy couple of weeks since I last wrote. For the second time in six weeks I got the random search. This time they swabbed my bag with a cotton-like square and put the square into a machine. Checking for explosives, no doubt. Happy to report I was clean. Even happier to report I didn't miss a train because of it!
All of the snow has melted, and getting to the parking spot in north Cambridge (Davis Square vicinity) is much easier than it was a month ago. This week, as I walked to the train, the birdsong was amazing. Who knew there were so many crazy birds in north Cambridge waiting for the time change to happen so they could sing their little hearts out every morning? And what are they thinking, settling in Cambridge, when they could be out in, say, Concord, near Walden Pond or some more bird-friendly place? What kind of bird decides to settle in Cambridge?
Something to research for future.
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