please stand clear of the closing doors
i love the new york city subway system. granted it's not the cleanest mode of public transportation. it's certainly no washington dc metro; i swear if one desired (and of course there's no good reason one would), one could -- quite safely -- eat off the floors of the dc trains. no need for the five-second rule there. you drop your water bottle cap and you're a-ok. when i drop my water bottle cap on the train in new york, i find i'm inevitably on the fence. there's the "a little bacteria is actually good for you" school of thought. and who wants to be neurotic and wasteful? don't worry about it and put the cap back on the bottle, i tell myself. but then i think of exactly where that bacteria might be coming from. i have seen many, many unpleasant things on subway trains. twisting that cap back on the bottle -- directly where i put my mouth... well, more often than not, i end up polishing off my water before my stop and replacing the bottle at my destination. i guess you might say i feel a definite need for implementing something more "hardcore" than merely the five-second rule.
but although it may be somewhat squalid at times, i really have quite a fond place in my estimation for the new york city trains. for starters, they go everywhere. nowhere else -- with the possible exception of paris -- have i encountered such comprehensive subway service. think about where you live and where you work; is there more than one usable subway stop for either of those locations? both? i am confident that there is, for at least one. and i take that as an unmistakable sign of great service. to get from my apartment to my workplace, for example, i could take a total of five different trains, stopping at two different stations. average discrepancy in minutes, no more than fifteen. at worst. when leaving various parts of manhattan for my home in brooklyn, i often have up to eight choices of trains (nine with a little more of a walk). although sometimes challenging for those who struggle with decision-making, i love that about the subway here. it is the epitome of convenience.
except, of course, when it's not; but hey, nothing is perfect. attempting to get from midtown manhattan to a dinner engagement in the cobble hill section of brooklyn an evening or two ago, i walked happily from work to the f(-as-in-fancy) train, expecting a straight-shot from 34th st. herald square to bergen st., in brooklyn. that, however, was not to be. "due to an investigation at west 4th street, brooklyn-bound f-as-in-frank service has been suspended. as an alternative [insert incomprehensible, tinny, muffled, incomprehensible blabber here] or [more of the same]. thank you." after the initial, "ok, let me figure out what i will do in lieu of the customary route," my thoughts turned immediately to the "investigation." i got off the train at west 4th st., having devised a route to get me to bergen st. (take the f to west fourth, the a to jay st., where i could pick up another f(-as-in-frolic) train that was not affected by said "investigation"). as i waited on the platform for the a (-as-in-alley) train at west 4th, i spied an old coworker and fried of mine. we greeted, and she asked me where i was headed; i mapped out my convoluted train route to cobble hill. she remarked that there have been lots of glitches with the trains lately. i mused out loud on the nature of the "investigation" that had us chatting on the platform that evening. why couldn't they just say there was "a stalled train," we wondered together. or cite some other "technical" problem? what was meant by such an ominous choice of words as "investigation"? when it was time for us to part, we had decided that it was probably another conservative scare tactic, devised to win our support for the war in iraq since the terrorists are no doubt causing vague investigations at new york city subway stops on a vaguely regular basis (oft on the eve of politically important "moves," i find).
but no, i have implied falsehoods. for i know better to think of the new york city subway system as run by conservatives. in fact, it is actually run by no mere mortals, at all. for everyone who has ever wondered why it is that the train is inevitably -- and impeccably -- arriving just as you step (and leisurely, too) onto the platform when you have absolutely nowhere to be, and why it is inevitably -- also impeccably -- pulling out of the station after you, hideously late for something of dire importance, have mustered all of your lung capacity, sprinted onto the platform, and knocked over three small children and one old lady in the process of trying to catch that buggery train, i -- along with a brilliantly astute friend of mine to whom i give full credit for beginning the investigation years ago -- offer you this: there is a force. the force is called "metron." it controls all things subway. and now that you are in the know, we encourage you to talk to metron, pray to metron, bow to metron, grovel to metron, sacrifice your favorite train reading material to metron. (but not the latest new yorker, metron is currently overwhelmed by the amount of new yorkers it has received as of late.)
i know what you're thinking. you scoff at the absurd idea of such a massive presence that essentially is the subway. some perspective, then: a year ago today, new yorkers were in the midst of the 2005 new york city transit strike. negotiations between the transport workers union and the metropolitan aransportation authority broke down over retirement and pension issues, as well as wage increases, and the mta personnel struck, freezing virtually all public transport in the city of new york. for many new yorkers, this day last year calls to mind images of hoards of bundled manhattan work-goers pouring into the city -- on foot -- over various bridges, masses of people trying to flag down cabs, vans, cars with extra seat, any vehicle that seemed to be going anywhere (the unspoken new yorker rule never to get into unmarked cabs went, as it were, out the window and into the east river that was by then taking a solid two hours to cross in a car), and just a general sense of civil unrest. it was really quite remarkable. of course, one is never more aware of how much one relies on something until it ceases to be, well, reliable. but beyond the thunderous and mighty inconveniences -- the missed work, the missed travel, the missed holiday gatherings -- there was something very humanizing about the consequences of that strike. it was, after all, an inherently communal experience. and the subway experience on its own is already something of a shared one; there's not so much emphasis put on personal space when you're on a manhattan-bound express train to midtown at 8:30 in the morning. [in fact, i have always had a desire to conduct some sort of social experiment, trying to determine exactly how far one can push the sense that we are really co-inhabitants of that space on the train upon entering. i'd like to test out "falling asleep" and "inadvertently" resting my head on the shoulder of the person sitting next to me. who would tolerate? how much would they tolerate? what would they do to deter it? i think it sounds quite fascinating.] but there was something about that strike, about people jumping in cars with strangers and pressing on, wall st. workers and line-cooks alike, over the bridges to get to work. it was a concrete depiction of not only just how much that many people depend on public transportation (metron is watching you), but also an extension of the subway experience in new york. i met someone from suburban oregon (redundant?) not long ago who was visiting the city and had much to say about how cold and difficult and abrasive new yorkers are. but does he drives to work everyday in a car all by himself. he doesn't deal with hundreds of other peoples' pets, bags, ipods, books, newspapapers, limbs etc. in his face everyday. are we really so astrigent? and just think about a year ago today, new yorkers migrating together like some sort of giant flock. and on the strike, don't get me wrong. it was absolutely horrid and i wouldn't wish it on anyone, ever. but perhaps it offered something worthy about which to think.
my subway musings today have been inspired by a first-anniversary-of-the-transit-strike party i will be attending this evening. hopefully no "investigations" will hinder my punctual arrival at this oh-so-worthy celebration of the subway and the "subway culture" that surrounds. indeed, i, for one, will be t-as-in-toasting our trains tonight.
but although it may be somewhat squalid at times, i really have quite a fond place in my estimation for the new york city trains. for starters, they go everywhere. nowhere else -- with the possible exception of paris -- have i encountered such comprehensive subway service. think about where you live and where you work; is there more than one usable subway stop for either of those locations? both? i am confident that there is, for at least one. and i take that as an unmistakable sign of great service. to get from my apartment to my workplace, for example, i could take a total of five different trains, stopping at two different stations. average discrepancy in minutes, no more than fifteen. at worst. when leaving various parts of manhattan for my home in brooklyn, i often have up to eight choices of trains (nine with a little more of a walk). although sometimes challenging for those who struggle with decision-making, i love that about the subway here. it is the epitome of convenience.
except, of course, when it's not; but hey, nothing is perfect. attempting to get from midtown manhattan to a dinner engagement in the cobble hill section of brooklyn an evening or two ago, i walked happily from work to the f(-as-in-fancy) train, expecting a straight-shot from 34th st. herald square to bergen st., in brooklyn. that, however, was not to be. "due to an investigation at west 4th street, brooklyn-bound f-as-in-frank service has been suspended. as an alternative [insert incomprehensible, tinny, muffled, incomprehensible blabber here] or [more of the same]. thank you." after the initial, "ok, let me figure out what i will do in lieu of the customary route," my thoughts turned immediately to the "investigation." i got off the train at west 4th st., having devised a route to get me to bergen st. (take the f to west fourth, the a to jay st., where i could pick up another f(-as-in-frolic) train that was not affected by said "investigation"). as i waited on the platform for the a (-as-in-alley) train at west 4th, i spied an old coworker and fried of mine. we greeted, and she asked me where i was headed; i mapped out my convoluted train route to cobble hill. she remarked that there have been lots of glitches with the trains lately. i mused out loud on the nature of the "investigation" that had us chatting on the platform that evening. why couldn't they just say there was "a stalled train," we wondered together. or cite some other "technical" problem? what was meant by such an ominous choice of words as "investigation"? when it was time for us to part, we had decided that it was probably another conservative scare tactic, devised to win our support for the war in iraq since the terrorists are no doubt causing vague investigations at new york city subway stops on a vaguely regular basis (oft on the eve of politically important "moves," i find).
but no, i have implied falsehoods. for i know better to think of the new york city subway system as run by conservatives. in fact, it is actually run by no mere mortals, at all. for everyone who has ever wondered why it is that the train is inevitably -- and impeccably -- arriving just as you step (and leisurely, too) onto the platform when you have absolutely nowhere to be, and why it is inevitably -- also impeccably -- pulling out of the station after you, hideously late for something of dire importance, have mustered all of your lung capacity, sprinted onto the platform, and knocked over three small children and one old lady in the process of trying to catch that buggery train, i -- along with a brilliantly astute friend of mine to whom i give full credit for beginning the investigation years ago -- offer you this: there is a force. the force is called "metron." it controls all things subway. and now that you are in the know, we encourage you to talk to metron, pray to metron, bow to metron, grovel to metron, sacrifice your favorite train reading material to metron. (but not the latest new yorker, metron is currently overwhelmed by the amount of new yorkers it has received as of late.)
i know what you're thinking. you scoff at the absurd idea of such a massive presence that essentially is the subway. some perspective, then: a year ago today, new yorkers were in the midst of the 2005 new york city transit strike. negotiations between the transport workers union and the metropolitan aransportation authority broke down over retirement and pension issues, as well as wage increases, and the mta personnel struck, freezing virtually all public transport in the city of new york. for many new yorkers, this day last year calls to mind images of hoards of bundled manhattan work-goers pouring into the city -- on foot -- over various bridges, masses of people trying to flag down cabs, vans, cars with extra seat, any vehicle that seemed to be going anywhere (the unspoken new yorker rule never to get into unmarked cabs went, as it were, out the window and into the east river that was by then taking a solid two hours to cross in a car), and just a general sense of civil unrest. it was really quite remarkable. of course, one is never more aware of how much one relies on something until it ceases to be, well, reliable. but beyond the thunderous and mighty inconveniences -- the missed work, the missed travel, the missed holiday gatherings -- there was something very humanizing about the consequences of that strike. it was, after all, an inherently communal experience. and the subway experience on its own is already something of a shared one; there's not so much emphasis put on personal space when you're on a manhattan-bound express train to midtown at 8:30 in the morning. [in fact, i have always had a desire to conduct some sort of social experiment, trying to determine exactly how far one can push the sense that we are really co-inhabitants of that space on the train upon entering. i'd like to test out "falling asleep" and "inadvertently" resting my head on the shoulder of the person sitting next to me. who would tolerate? how much would they tolerate? what would they do to deter it? i think it sounds quite fascinating.] but there was something about that strike, about people jumping in cars with strangers and pressing on, wall st. workers and line-cooks alike, over the bridges to get to work. it was a concrete depiction of not only just how much that many people depend on public transportation (metron is watching you), but also an extension of the subway experience in new york. i met someone from suburban oregon (redundant?) not long ago who was visiting the city and had much to say about how cold and difficult and abrasive new yorkers are. but does he drives to work everyday in a car all by himself. he doesn't deal with hundreds of other peoples' pets, bags, ipods, books, newspapapers, limbs etc. in his face everyday. are we really so astrigent? and just think about a year ago today, new yorkers migrating together like some sort of giant flock. and on the strike, don't get me wrong. it was absolutely horrid and i wouldn't wish it on anyone, ever. but perhaps it offered something worthy about which to think.
my subway musings today have been inspired by a first-anniversary-of-the-transit-strike party i will be attending this evening. hopefully no "investigations" will hinder my punctual arrival at this oh-so-worthy celebration of the subway and the "subway culture" that surrounds. indeed, i, for one, will be t-as-in-toasting our trains tonight.
posted by blythe at 3:53 PM
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