December 23, 2014

Hello dave Shoe's On The Other Foot. I Am Blog Material

I am on vacation for the holidays. Hooray! But rather than spend my vacation in a far off exotic and unusual place full of interesting and diverse locals, like Boca Raton, Florida, we decided to do something different. We decided to visit someplace unique. We are in...

New York City.
You may be asking, "Who does that? Who goes to the place they work when on vacation? Well, you just hold on there, because the story gets better. We are staying in the hotel next door to my client's office. Not only next door to my client's office, we are staying in a room that looks out over my desk at the client's office. Just because I come here every day, it doesn't mean my kids should miss out on the greatest city in the world.

It all feels so familiar, yet not so familiar. Why? Because the shoe is on the other foot. This time, I am the tourist. I am blog material.

I've had a camera around my shoulder, we've stood on the left side of the escalator without walking, we went to Times Square (horrors!), we got on the subway before people finished getting off, and we got thrown when the train jerked.

We are having a great time. My little guy gets so excited on the subway that he keeps asking questions. He asks why we keep hearing a squealing noise. He asks who is driving the train. People are getting up for us and giving up their seats. They smile nicely. And then they put on their headphones to drown us out.

I could share endless vacation anecdotes, but I'll just share a few good quotes from the subway.

"Dad, you ride this train EVERY DAY? You're so lucky!" Well, I don't like to brag, kids. But yes. Yes, I do. And yes. Yes, I am.

"Is this our stop? No. Is this our stop? No. Is this our stop? No. Is this our stop?" Mind you, he didn't want to get off the train. He wanted to stay on the train and be sure we weren't there yet. When we got to our destination, there was sadness.

"I don't want to hold on." My daughter is strong-willed. She sets her mind to something, she does it. She wanted to learn how to subway surf without holding on. She's a pro now. Nearly a few wipeouts, but we were there to catch her.

"Can you carry me? I'm tired." What can I tell you? After a while, Times Square made my legs ache. My wife said no, though. The nerve. After all I do for her.

All of us at TTIV wish you and your families a joyous and healthy holiday season, and a happy new year! I hope that whatever you celebrate is festive.

**
Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.
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Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com
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December 17, 2014

Hello dave The Hazards of Headphones

This morning, I got off the Long Island Rail Road and made my usual walk to the subway. The Allman Brothers Band's "In Memory of Elizabeth Reed" was grooving in my headphones, and I was in a very pleasant zoned out state.

I stood on the subway platform waiting for the A Train to arrive. The world around me was shut off, and soon I noticed that most everyone on the platform made a hasty retreat to the exits. What happened?
Had an announcement been made? I must have missed it as I listened to Duane Allman and Dickey Betts trade guitar licks. The only people remaining with me also wore headphones, and I probably had the same confused look as they all did. Like a good sheep, I followed the others to the exit. Baaaaaaaa.

Turns out there was an "earlier incident" and all the express trains were diverted to the local track. I waited for the E train and headed downtown.

I always talk about headphones as a must-have commuting survival tool. But like a grenade, your survival depends on how adept you are at using the tools in your belt. Headphones make you less aware of your surroundings, so you need to be careful. It's a chance I'm willing to take in the commuting trenches. 

**
Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.
Share your commuting stories on the Facebook TTIV site, on Twitter, using hashtag #TTIV, or via email.
Sign up for the blog mailing list by entering your email address in the "Follow By E-Mail" box.
Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com
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Hello dave TTIV In Print!

Hi #TTIV friends! amNewYork picked up one of my stories, it is available at the following link. If you are in the city or an area where they print amNewYork, be sure to pick up a copy!

Thanks to all for following The Train In Vain. I enjoy writing it and greatly appreciate all your feedback, comments, and encouragement.

Best,
David

December 16, 2014

December 12, 2014

December 9, 2014

Hello dave Good Will Toward Your Fellow Man and Zombies

Note to #TTIV Readers: This blog piece was published on amNewYork's website at this link. Republishing here on the blog.

This morning on the train, I was half awake as we pulled into Atlantic Terminal, Brooklyn. Dazed and tired from the epic rainstorm (not to mention that binge-watching "The Walking Dead" on Netflix has significantly altered my normal sleep patterns), I collected my stuff, got up, and headed toward the vestibule to wait for the train's arrival.

As I stood in the aisle waiting for the train to stop, a guy in a nearby seat tapped me. "Your backpack is open," he said. Oops, I forgot to close it. "Thanks," I replied, and made a mental note to pay it forward.

Several seats away, where I had been sitting, the guy who I'd sat next to called out, "Excuse me!" Everyone turned. He was looking at me as he held a pair of gloves up. "Did you forget these?" Oops, I forgot to take them with me. "Thanks, " I said, and made a second mental note to pay it forward.

A few minutes later, we were making our final approach into the Brooklyn terminal. The woman standing in the aisle in front of me was looking on the floor for something. I asked if she needed help. She said, "I lost my headphones." I helped her looked for them, and found them near her seat. Pay it forward #1 paid in full.

I then got on the subway to make my way into Manhattan. Once on the train, I stood next to a man with his little boy, who was no more than 4 years old. He was standing in such a way that I knew he'd be thrown when the train jerked. I guess many years of subway surfing have given me an eye for that.  I could see that the little guy was going to fall when the train started moving. I was ready and caught him as he was thrown forward. Pay it forward number #2 paid in full.

What did I learn today? 1) I am Even Steven, 2) It takes a village to get to work in one piece, 3) I may have banked enough good will for Santa to be good to me, 3) acts of kindness are the oil that keeps the machines of daily routine running smoothly, and 4) Zombies are defeated when you stay in formation and go for the head with a sharp instrument.

**
Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.
Share your commuting stories on the Facebook TTIV site, on Twitter, using hashtag #TTIV, or via email.
Sign up for the blog mailing list by entering your email address in the "Follow By E-Mail" box.
Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com
If you like the blog, tell a friend!

December 7, 2014

Hello dave Game Plans And Rookie Mistakes

Today's TTIV post comes from Marsh, our Metro-North Correspondent. Marsh will soon helm our Eastern Pennsylvania Bus Bureau, as he is headed for greener pastures. In the midst of a moving transition, this seasoned commuter has had to relearn some ropes.

In prior TTIV posts you've read about “Rookie Mistakes,” where new commuters failed at seemingly fundamental tasks. As a long time commuter and big time football fan, I’ve noticed similarities between the blunders made by inexperienced commuters and those made by young quarterbacks.

Recently, I embarked on a 2-3 week stint taking a new route to the office. Changing from Metro-North to NJ Transit was like being traded in mid-season to a playoff contender. I had to get used to a new offensive scheme with new coaches and teammates. I was determined to make a successful transition with no rookie errors.

To prepare myself for the ride from Suffern, NY to Midtown Manhattan, I transformed into Peyton Manning studying game film. I immersed myself in timetables, transfer schedules, and alternate routes. With only a few games left in the season, I would do whatever was necessary to get an edge on my next opponent. Nothing was left to chance.

Here’s an overview of my punch list.

Dry run to the NJ Transit station at Ramsey-Rte 17. CHECK. It's a good thing I did this. The traffic signs are written in a language that can only be described as “Jersey-ese,” and it took some studying to absorb their meanings. I scouted the parking garage and found the ticket machine on the far platform.

Compute monthly/daily/weekly parking and ticket options. CHECK. And a rather large check at that. $44 for parking, $236 for a combination of weekly and daily passes. Good thing I had Stephen Hawking on speed dial to help with the calculations. It's a tidy $280 for 11 round trips.

Find the trains with maximum ONT. UNCLEAR. Just like football, train commuting has its own lingo. ONT, or Optimum Nap Time, is a critical metric that I look to maximize. The 7:18 is a 44 minute trip with a train change, a four block walk out of Penn Station and two stops on the subway. The 7:37 is a quicker ride in, but most likely would net me zero sleep since it's a more crowded train.

Finally, it was game day. I put on my pads, uniform, eye black, and helmet.

I left for the station at 7:02. I parked, walked to the far platform, bought my weekly pass, turned around, and saw the open doors of the 7:18 in front of me. Like a quarterback hitting his receiver in stride, I pounced on an empty 4-seater as I boarded. First down!

I looked for a high-five from the conductor. I led my new squad to victory. Let’s celebrate. Time for a nap!!! I’m a pro, or so I thought.

At the Secaucus transfer, riders pass through turnstiles on their way to the NYC bound tracks. You insert your ticket into a slot, and it comes out the other side as the turnstile unlocks. Every train ticket I have ever seen has an arrow on it so you can tell which way to insert. Well, guess what? Weekly NJ Transit Rail Passes do not. I tried every direction…twice.

I was holding up the line behind me and was forced to ask for help, the commuter version of throwing a “pick six.” Suddenly, Peyton Manning became Geno Smith.

Ticket front and back.
Do you see insert directions anywhere?
The woman behind me slid the ticket in the correct way and the gate opened. I thanked her and was on my way. As she raced past me, I am certain I heard her mutter "rookie" under her breath. Like Geno Smith, I'm just thankful for the opportunity to learn. Unlike Geno, however, I probably will.

Thanks Marsh, for sharing your commuting story. The fans are rooting for you to succeed, don't listen to the boos.

Do you have commuting stories? I want to hear them! Share them with me at thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com, or post on Facebook or Twitter with hashtag #TTIV. 

**
Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.
Share your commuting stories on the Facebook TTIV site, on Twitter, using hashtag #TTIV, or via email.
Sign up for the blog mailing list by entering your email address in the "Follow By E-Mail" box.
Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com
If you like the blog, tell a friend!



December 5, 2014

December 4, 2014

December 3, 2014

Hello dave More Commuter Neurosis

Recently I rode the 7:44 PM train home. I sat in the six-seater, across from two other guys. The six-seater is not my favorite place to perch but at least I wasn't standing. The six-seater offers its own series of neuroses, but that's not the subject of this post. Today, we'll talk about the neurosis of an "if you see something, say something" moment.

Are you familiar with this slogan? It came into use after 9/11. Our safety czars (tsars?) sought ways to keep public transportation safe. When they realized they had no clue how to go about this, they came up with the phrase to a) keep people alert, and b) spread the blame if something catastrophic should take place.

Here's what happened.

As we left Penn Station, a guy carrying an opaque plastic bag walked by. He stopped, put the bag down in the seat next to me, and then kept walking. 

Whoa. You don't leave unattended packages on the train! That's Commuting 101! I sat there looking at the bag, which had the "Duane Reade" pharmacy logo on it. What could be in it? A bomb? Sarin gas? Ricin? A deodorant stick? Where did he go? The obvious answer would be the lav, but I couldn't say with certainty.

10 minutes went by, and no sign of the guy. The two guys sitting across from me were completely oblivious. Were they part of the plot? Were they planning something sinister? 

I see something. Should I say something?

I thought about looking into the bag. But what if it was booby-trapped? What if there was key evidence in there? What if it was the mystery glowing item that Marsellus Wallace wanted back in "Pulp Fiction?" What if it was a jar of aspirin from the Analgesics aisle? I can't go through the bag. I'd look like a yenta for peering into the bag.

I see something. Should I say something?

Finally he returned. I took a good look at him, he looked like a cross between one of my high school gym teachers (Mr. Eccher, for those of you who go back that far with me) and Jeffrey Tambor. Not exactly terrorist material. He started speaking to the two other guys and me, and he was completely incoherent.

Or was he coherently speaking a foreign language? Did he just tell me in some foreign language to prepare to die?

I see something. Should I say something?

After he took out a beer
He went into the bag. The moment of truth. What's he going to take out? A weapon? Flintstone vitamins?

He pulled out a 16 Oz. Coors Light. He had three more in the bag. Do they sell beer at Duane Reade?

What did I see? I saw a drunk guy who went to relieve himself and make room for more cheap beer. This guy didn't need me to call the police to say something. He needed me to call him a taxi.


**
Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.
Share your commuting stories on the Facebook TTIV site, on Twitter, using hashtag #TTIV, or via email.

Sign up for the blog mailing list by entering your email address in the "Follow By E-Mail" box.
Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com

If you like the blog, tell a friend!

November 26, 2014

Hello dave Thanksgiving Eve, AKA Rookie Day

Today is Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving. What is it that people do today? They travel. They go see their loved ones. And how do they get there? By any means possible. This includes the Long Island Rail Road. 

Normally, I take the Wednesday before Thanksgiving off, but not this year. I’m hoarding my vacation time. As a result, I’m taking the train home right now, sailing the sea of cluelessness.

It is Amateur Day. Rookie Day. Every person in the New York Metropolitan area with a familial tie to Long Island is on this train. My friend Marsh, who has contributed stories as TTIV’s Metro-North correspondent would say that the API, or Annoying Person Index, is in the red zone.

The woman next to me is chatting away on the phone. She wants to quit her job and become a professional shopper. I’ve heard that yesterday was her birthday about five times in the last 10 minutes. A friend has drama in her life. Her train ticket says she’s going to my station. I bet she stays on the phone the entire trip. 

My friend Octavius, whose peeves you heard about in an earlier post, told me that he rode the train earlier today. Some woman had a huge basket of cookies on the seat next to her. A throng of people was standing but didn’t have the guts to ask her to move the basket. Octavius, professional commuter that he is, went right up to her and asked her to move the pastries. She begrudgingly moved them. Octavius 1, Rookies 0.

The overhead racks are loaded up with bags and suitcases. Somewhere on the other end of a car, a child is screaming. A guy just got up and was thrown when the train jerked, almost directly into my lap. It’s Rookie Day!

I have my music on volume 10 now, and I’ve succeeded in deafening myself. And yet I can still hear the woman next to me, who is scarfing down some alfalfa sprout-based meal in a plastic bowl, talk to her friend about how she and her significant other have become strangers. 

Now with all that out of the way, let me wish you readers a Happy Thanksgiving. None of this stuff really matters, does it? Among many, many other things, I’m thankful for your commuting camaraderie. Writing the blog is therapeutic for me, and I’m glad you all come along for the ride.

November 25, 2014

Hello dave Winter Commuting: What NOT To Wear

The weather's been all over the place lately. Freezing cold one day, 60 F the next. You never know how to dress. But don't worry. TTIV cannot guide you on what you SHOULD wear, but certainly can help you with what NOT to wear. When the weather gets cold, everyone starts to bulk up. Bulking up creates seating challenges on the train. The aim of today's blog post is to lay out some guidelines to help alleviate those challenges.

Prohibited train wear
A mink stole. Shouldn't this be obvious? Judging from the number of times I've seen commuters wearing such coats, I don't believe it is. If Madonna gets on my train, she is welcome to stand in the vestibule. I don't want her in the seat next to me, because that coat is going to take up a lot of room.

Why get on the train all fancy? Does the person really want to take the risk of wearing a $20,000 coat (I have no idea how much a mink coat costs, but $20,000 sounds right) on the aisle seat? What happens when some drunken buffoon walks by with a hot dog and spills mustard all over it? If that coat were mine, I wouldn't want the risk. Take a limo and leave us schleps alone.

Allowable train wear, with caveat
Long coat with a belt. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with a long coat that has a belt. I wear a trench coat sometimes when it's raining, or when I feel like flashing people. Just kidding! I'm rarely in a flashing mood.

But when I do wear my long coat on the train, I do one of two things. 1) I take it off and put it on the overhead rack, or 2) pull it closed and ensure the belt is wrapped around my waist before sitting down. Why is it so important that commuters do this? Simple. No one wants to sit on an extraneous buckle or coat section. I try to be considerate.

So, the official TTIV ruling is that if you are capable of taking responsibility for your long coat, you may wear the coat. This privilege is subject to revocation.

Prohibited train wear
Puffy jackets. See George Costanza. Under no circumstances is the puffy jacket allowable on the train. People who wear them take up two seats, even if they weigh 90 pounds with the jacket off.

There is one key exception to the puffy jacket rule, and that's the puffy jacket with no sleeves. It's a vest. A cold weather vest, and it's perfectly acceptable to wear on the train.

Allowable trainwear
But before I explain why, would someone explain to me how this is a functional style? You put on the coat, it keeps your torso warm, but your arms are left to freeze in the cold. How is this desirable? Sure, it looks nice. But if your fashion choice could lead to amputation, it's probably a sign that you should consider other options.

Sorry, I'm deviating from topic. This has become a chronic problem.

From a commuting perspective, the sleeveless puffy jacket is perfectly acceptable. It allows the wearer to stay within the confines of his train seat. So while his arms may be cold, he's doing me a service. So freeze on, comrade.

And lastly, do not store your coats with mothballs. Unless you're traveling with Madonna in her limo. In which case, stuff your coats full of them all summer long.

**
Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.
Share your commuting stories on the Facebook TTIV site, on Twitter, using hashtag #TTIV, or via email.
Sign up for the blog mailing list by entering your email address in the "Follow By E-Mail" box.
Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com

If you like the blog, tell a friend!

November 20, 2014

Hello dave Sleeping Past Your Stop, A Reader's Story

Readers: Are you familiar with the "Patch" websites? These sites share community news and interesting stories with readers, and my blog posts are sometimes distributed there. Today's TTIV post is a story related to me by Marv, a Patch Reader from Plainview. He read my story, "Slept Past My Stop. A Lesson Learned," and related his own similar tale.

I get some of my best sleep on the train. A fallout of this is sleeping past my stop, which I've done on multiple occasions. Usually, it's not that big a deal. When it happens, I can walk around to the other platform, wait a bit, and a train will soon come. But then there was the day I slept REALLY well.

After a meeting in Long Island City, I was running late and walked briskly to the Hunters Point Avenue station for my ride back to Bethpage. I arrived with a few minutes to spare. Running down the steps, there were two trains parked and open on both sides of the platform. I jumped on what I thought was my train. I sat down and got comfortable. Strangely, the doors closed and the train pulled out early. Early? The Long Island Rail Road is never early.

Figuring I was on the wrong train, I asked another rider if this train stopped at Jamaica. You can always correct your mistake if the train stops at Jamaica. He said yes. Good. 

I passed out rather quickly. Next thing I knew, that same person poked me. "Did you say you needed to get off at Jamaica?" I exploded out of my seat to get off, but realized we were pulling out of Jamaica, not arriving.  "What is the next stop," I asked.  "This is the express to Montauk." WHAT?  TTIV Note: For those unfamiliar with Long Island geography, Montauk is 100 miles from Jamaica. Marv was on an express train making no stops until the Hamptons. 

I found a conductor, and explained what happened. He seemed to take glee in my predicament. "When is the next train to return?" "Tomorrow." Are you kidding? I told him, "I need you to stop the train, so I can hop off."  Blank stare.  He said he would see what he could do, and that he would return.

Some time passed, and he was nowhere to be seen. I walked the train to find him. Along the way, I met an attractive young woman who was in the same predicament. She'd also gotten on the wrong train. Finally, the conductor appeared, and reluctantly they stopped the train so we could get off.

Two westbound trains and a lot of time later, I was in Seaford (Nassau County), and my wife came to pick me up there. Did I ever hear it from her the whole way home. What can I say? I deserved it. Today, we laugh about it.

I use a daily alarm now.

TTIV Note: There are three morals of this story:
1. Set your alarm before the expected arrival time at your destination. 
2. If you call your spouse to pick you up far from home, prepare for grief. It's your fault. 
3. If you find yourself in a similar situation, and you are male, find a pretty girl in the same predicament to help plead your case. She will make your case far better than you ever could.

**
Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.
Share your commuting stories on the Facebook TTIV site, on Twitter, using hashtag #TTIV, or via email.
Sign up for the blog mailing list by entering your email address in the "Follow By E-Mail" box.
Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com

If you like the blog, tell a friend!

November 19, 2014

Hello dave The Commuter of the Day: Bongo Man

Recently, I sat across the aisle from a musician. He had a bongo, and he wasn't afraid to play it. All the way from Penn Station to Mineola, where he got off. He sat in that seat for the whole ride, headphones on, big grin, eyes closed, working out that bongo.

The funniest part, at least to me anyway, was the guy sitting next to him who barely even gave a glance. Clearly a veteran of the rails.

In fairness, Bongo Man was considerate. He did not bang hard on the drum so as to disturb everyone around him. But it's not often that you see a guy wailing away on his percussion instrument on the 7:11 PM to Ronkonkoma.

Note: These men did not really have green faces

**
Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.
Share your commuting stories on the Facebook TTIV site, on Twitter, using hashtag #TTIV, or via email.
Sign up for the blog mailing list by entering your email address in the "Follow By E-Mail" box.
Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com

If you like the blog, tell a friend!

November 16, 2014

Hello dave The Peeves of Octavius

Did that title get your attention? No, this isn't about Roman charioteers getting to and from the Circus Maximus. Today's TTIV entry is a guest contribution from a friend who has many commuting peeves. He shared a few with me. He prefers to be anonymous, so we'll call him "Octavius."

Many things about the commute bother me, but lately some have bugged me to no end. Here are my top three.

Coffee cups shoved in the rectangular newspaper recycling bin slots. Didn't we all learn as toddlers that round shapes don't fit into rectangular slots? Not everyone paid attention that day. Is it difficult to grasp this? The bin says, "Newspapers Only." People shove their coffee cups into the slots and leave the tops sticking out because they are too lazy to find a proper receptacle. I think recycling is important, so I pull the coffee cups out and put them in the proper trash so I can dispose of my newspaper. Dopes. TTIV note: What about a tablet-based newspaper? Wouldn't that be better for the environment, and eliminate a peeve?

Don't "bro" me out of my seat, bro. As the train makes the final approach into Penn in the morning, the conductor makes the usual arrival announcements. If I'm sleeping in the aisle seat, the window passenger may cause sleepus interruptus by saying, "excuse me, bro." I don't like being asked out of my seat minutes before the train reaches the station. It doesn't get him far at all, because he and all the other antsy standing passengers have nowhere to go. He then stands in the aisle directly next me. He gets one body ahead of me and robs 10% of my commuting sleep time. This is all too common on the 5:35 AM train. TTIV note: Not a problem for me. I'm still in REM sleep, gripping my teddy bear at 5:35 AM.

Hey conductor, how many times do you need to see my ticket? I just showed you my monthly ticket eight minutes ago. Why am I showing it to you again? Just before Jamaica, remember? Why can't you remember me? I remember you. I'm commuting here! It doesn't matter if I'm sleeping, reading, or in the midst of a high score game of Candy Crush. Don't bug me more than once. I showed you the ticket. Put up one of the those punch cards so you can remember. Grrrr. TTIV note: Get a lanyard and wear your train pass around your neck. Works for me.

Plenty more in my brain. These were just the woes of the day. I'll be back with more.

Thanks Octavius, for sharing your commuting peeves. 

Do you have commuting peeves? Of course you do. Everyone does, and I want to know what they are! Share them with me at thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com, or post on Facebook or Twitter with hashtag #TTIV. 


**
Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.
Share your commuting stories on the Facebook TTIV site, on Twitter, using hashtag #TTIV, or via email.
Sign up for the blog mailing list by entering your email address in the "Follow By E-Mail" box.
Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com

If you like the blog, tell a friend!

November 14, 2014

November 13, 2014

Hello dave High Stakes Platform Roulette

What do Las Vegas, Atlantic City, your local OTB, and the Long Island Rail Road have in common? Thrilling gambling! Odds in your favor! The chance to win big! The distinct possibility of losing your shirt!

You're probably wondering how the Long Island Rail Road fits into this category. In today's blog post, we'll explore "Platform Roulette," a challenging game of skill and chance. The rules are simple. You wait on the platform, hoping to be directly in front of the doors when the train stops.

To properly explain the game, I need to use crude drawings. Today's crude drawings came out pretty good, even if when scaled to life size, the people are 1.5 feet tall.

Train platforms all have yellow painted signs or pasted decals indicating, "Watch the Gap (WTG)," in front of a safety line. While it appears the MTA is looking out for your safety, they are merely looking out for their own protection from frivolous lawsuits. WTG is useful for the person who can't comprehend that one should step over the gap and onto the train. You may be saying, "only a person with the brains of an intellectually challenged goat would need such guidance," and you'd be right. This same goat brain also:
  • Needs the warning on the coffee cup that indicates "be careful, the beverage is hot!" 
  • Needs the warning on a silica gel packet that says "do not eat" 
I'm deviating from topic. Getting back to the point, the train doors typically open in front of WTG. When people are waiting for their train to arrive, they congregate around these spots.

Figure 1: People waiting for the train
In Figure 1, the people standing around WTG are playing at the safe tables. They're taking the 2:1 odds.

The people with pink heads are playing the 8:1 odds, standing away from WTG. They're hoping to hit it big if the engineer stops the train a little short of the platform end. If this happens, the doors will open misaligned with WTG.

When you play Roulette, there comes a point where the croupier says, "no more bets," and everyone waits to see where the ball will land. In Platform Roulette, when the train starts to pull into the station, "no more bets" has been called. The people move closer to the edge of the platform, creating a hermetic, arc-shaped seal around the expected door location. This ensures that no late arriving commuters sneak in front of them.

Figure 2: Train doors are aligned with WTG
In Figure 2, the train has arrived. In my crude drawings, the doors look like iPods from the "Clickwheel" era. The safe bettors receive a 2:1 payout, and perhaps get to choose a decent seat.

The 8:1 bettors will likely stand.

Figure 3: Train doors are misaligned with WTG
In Figure 3, the train arrived but didn't stop at the end of the platform. The iPod Clickwheel doors will open misaligned with WTG. The 8:1 bettors get rewarded for their risk with good seats, while the safe bettors grumble about the change in routine.

If the Long Island Rail Road really had Clickwheel type doors, Apple could be an official sponsor. With large marketing cash infusions, fare increases could potentially be averted. Unfortunately, the odds of Apple doing this are about 1,000,829:1. Moreover, the odds of the MTA properly managing a cash surplus are too astronomical to state.

**
Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.
Share your commuting stories on the Facebook TTIV site, on Twitter, using hashtag #TTIV, or via email.
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Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
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November 10, 2014

Hello dave Strange Things On The Tracks... And In My Head

When I'm standing on the platform waiting for my train, I often scan the tracks looking at the debris people left behind. When the train takes a long time to arrive, my mind begins to wander about the debris. Sometimes I come up with absurd ideas. Absurd ideas that make for good blogging. 

Pillow on the track. Yes, I know, this is a rerun. But there have been quite a few new followers since I posted this, so it's fresh to some. Besides, it's worth revisiting.

I'm guessing some guy was standing on the platform waiting for the train, holding his pillow, when... WHOOPS! It went flying down to the tracks. Well, that's the realistic story. But what fun is a realistic story?

Maybe he looked at the pillow and saw an evil image in a drool stain. Thinking it was possessed, he cried, "CAST YE OUT, OH EVIL ONE!" He then tossed the pillow to the tracks. This caused the man next to him to momentarily peer above the horoscope page, shrug, and return to guidance on avoiding love decisions until his moon left Pluto.

And there the Beelzebub pillow sat. On the tracks. And we were saved.

A light bulb and a tube of toothpaste. If you zoom in on the picture of the tracks, you'll see that those two specks of white on the track bed are a) a light bulb, and b) a tube of toothpaste. I know there's a story here.

The light bulb is the curious item to me. How did the bulb get down to the track bed, unbroken? It's just sitting there, waiting for a Jewish groom to step on it, so everyone back on the platform can yell "MAZEL TOV!"

Perhaps a groom-to-be was on his way to his wedding, and dropped the ring on the tracks. It's not safe to go down to the tracks of course, but he couldn't leave the ring behind. So, he went down there and got the ring. As he picked it up, the bulb rolled out of his bag, along with the toothpaste. I hope the absent-minded and clumsy groom made it to the wedding. I hope the wedding took place.

Most of all, I hope he knows that a happy wife is a happy life. After writing this post, I'd like to thank my wife for putting up with me.

**
Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.
Share your commuting stories on the Facebook TTIV site, on Twitter, using hashtag #TTIV, or via email.
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Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com

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November 6, 2014

November 5, 2014

Hello dave Perfume Karma

I got on the train today and found a great seat. The woman in the adjacent seat respected the boundaries, and there was no duct tape anywhere to create a sticky mess on my clothes. Score! I sat down and got comfortable.

I noticed that the woman was wearing perfume. A reasonably attractive perfume. And then, I realized that she was wearing a lot of it. My nose started to burn. My eyes started to water. I'm not a highly allergic person, but when things trigger the allergies, they trigger them in a grand way.

I sneezed, multiple times. I'm sure the people around me wanted to run away, or have me run away. But there was nowhere for anyone to go. The train was crowded, so I wasn't going to be able to change seats without standing. There we all sat.

The sneezing stopped. My eyes were itching, and my nose was still burning, but the sneezing stopped. I started breathing through my hand, creating whatever filter I could.

Then the burn returned.

The sneezing started again. The woman next to me was clearly disgusted. She probably had no idea it was her perfume that triggered it. Perfume Karma. I'm guessing the irony was completely lost on her.

Thinking about this is making my nose itch again.

Moral of the story: If you're commuting on the train, forget the perfume. Forget the after-shave. Forget the bean, cheese, and onion burrito. And bring a big box of tissues. You never know when you might run into me.

**
Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.
Share your commuting stories on the Facebook TTIV site, on Twitter, using hashtag #TTIV, or via email.
Sign up for the blog mailing list by entering your email address in the "Follow By E-Mail" box.
Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com

If you like the blog, tell a friend!

November 3, 2014

Hello dave Miscellaneous Irritants Of The Day

You may have noticed I haven't posted in about a week. I've been suffering from a case of writer's block. It's hard to believe I've had nothing to say about the train for this long. But today, I'm back.

If you've been following for a while, you understand the importance of things going just right on my commute. It means so much to me. When frustrating things happen, I log those events. Sometimes I report them to you immediately, and sometimes keep them on ice until there's enough to make an interesting post.  I'm ready to share a few of my pet irritants.

Speaking of irritants, the woman next to me is blabbering on her phone. She's hiring two photographers and they've sorted out the menu for the event. Thank goodness. Happy Bar Mitzvah, Louis.

Hey Conductor! Open the friggin' doors! I don't think the train conductor's job is especially complex. Check the tickets, punch the tickets. Open the doors, close the doors. Make announcements. So why is it that the conductors are nowhere near the door controls when they need to be? Why do I stand in the vestibule at my destination, train stopped for a minute or two, and the conductor goes running past me to open the doors? Is it so hard to stand at the controls BEFORE the train gets to the station? When the train stops, open the doors. Easy, no? Maybe I'm missing something.

Punched ticket shrapnel just missed going INTO my coffee. Look at that picture. Just look at it. Can you see what happened here? I was sitting in my seat, minding my business. I flashed my monthly train pass to the conductor. The person sitting next to me was not a regular commuter, and handed a ticket to the conductor. What did the conductor do? He punched it right over my coffee. Look at where the punched part went! It missed the opening of my coffee by less than an inch. HORRORS! I'll put up with a lot on the train. DO NOT mess with my coffee.

Unstable person #829. Recently, I sat in the six-seater in the center of the train car. Across from me, diagonally, was a guy. A moose of a guy. Big dude. Thick neck. Short crew-cut. He kept rolling his head around, presumably cracking his neck. Then he started shadow boxing. Really. Then, out came the cell phone. He must have read something funny, because he commenced snort-laughing. He struck me as a bit unstable, so I considered moving. Then a family of four came and sat in the remaining seats. He got up and left. Problem solved. Or was it? More like being in the fire instead of the frying pan.

I'll stop here for now, although I have many more in my list of pet irritants. I'm going to make some coffee and refresh my story backlog. Please don't interrupt. You know what coffee means to me.

**
Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.
Share your commuting stories on the Facebook TTIV site, on Twitter, using hashtag #TTIV, or via email.
Sign up for the blog mailing list by entering your email address in the "Follow By E-Mail" box.
Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com

Tell a friend!