September 30, 2014

Hello dave An Impressive Waste Of Tax Dollars

Exhibit A
Westbound Duffy Ave, Hicksville
If you’re a “The Train In Vain” blog regular, you know that I like to use the parking facility at Hicksville. It’s close to the station platform, and there are plenty of spots available at the time I normally catch the train. On most days, the Long Island rush hour traffic is pretty challenging, but today was worse, and UNNECESSARILY worse.

See Exhibit A, westbound Duffy Avenue in Hicksville. The cars making left turns are entering the parking facility. The line of cars to make the left turn stretched back for over a mile. Because of the traffic, I missed my train. Take a look at the eastbound traffic (cars with headlights on). They’re backed up as far as I could see.

What caused this congestion? The Town of Oyster Bay decided to manually direct traffic into the lot. Without the manual direction, traffic in the area moves just fine. "If it ain't broke, we'll fix it!" That is the town motto.

Let’s have a closer look at the crack traffic direction staff in Exhibit B.

Exhibit B
Closer View Of the Parking Traffic Crack Staff At Work
Person #1. He is directing traffic. He’s wearing a reflective vest, and holding back traffic in one direction while cars from the other direction enter the lot. Without his help, the traffic moves slowly. With his help, it’s a backed up mess in both directions. Not his fault. He’s doing his job.

Person #1 is the only person actually working. Everyone else is wearing a tie.


Person #2. He is watching intensely. His hand is in his pocket. He’s watching Person #1 direct the traffic. He’s doing a tremendous job.

Person #3. I’m guessing he works for Person #2. He’s watching person #4.

Person #4. My guess is he’s the boss. By staying aloof and away from #2 and #3, he has asserted his leadership. He won’t consort with the underlings who are also watching the traffic intensely.

My money is that in this action shot, persons #2, #3, and #4 are thinking about breakfast.

--

As I was writing this entry, my eleven year old son came over and saw me labeling the men in Exhibit B.

Son: Dad, why are you putting numbers next to those guys?
Me: These men were directing traffic at the parking garage. I'm writing a blog post about them.
Son: All of them were directing traffic?
Me: No. Just the man in the vest.
Son: What are the other men doing?
Me: Standing and watching the man in the vest.
Son: That's all they're doing?
Me: Yes.
Son: That's all they have to do? That seems like a great job.
Me: Yes, I'm sure it is. And they'll probably have free healthcare and pensions in perpetuity.
Son: What?

Tomorrow I'm parking in the far away lot. Or applying for a civil service job.

**

Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.

The best compliment I can receive is a new follower who was referred by a friend! 

Sign up for the blog mailing list by entering your email address in the "Follow By E-Mail" box.  Or, if you're on Facebook, give TheTrainInVain page a "Like."  You can also follow on Twitter.

Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com

September 29, 2014

September 27, 2014

Hello dave The Train In Vain Is On a Marketing Campaign

The Train In Vain is on a marketing campaign. Can you help? I need your:
  • Facebook page likes 
  • Twitter following
  • Help by sharing the blog with friends and family
  • Commuting stories
All this helps with distribution. My goal is to make The Train In Vain the first place people go to vent when something on a commute makes them shake their heads. It doesn't just have to be on a train. It can be on a subway, bus, car, airplane, trolley car, airport van, taxicab... you get the point. Here's how you can help.

Share your observations on The Train In Vain Facebook page.  The Facebook page is open to everyone. Please feel free to post your stories there, just as you'd post a comment on someone's wall or write a status.

Got a longer story to tell? Send it to me. I love to publish guest blog posts. You can email your stories to me. You write it, I'll edit, you get the credit.

Thanks for all your support, I have a lot of fun writing this blog on my commute. I hope you enjoy reading it.

Best,
David

September 26, 2014

Hello dave Guest Post: Bus Pet Peeve #1, Blocking The Aisle

It’s time for another guest blog post. My friend and former colleague, Chintan, takes the NJ Transit bus to and from Manhattan each day. The bus has its own series of challenges. Whether you take the train, bus, airplane, car, or rickshaw to your destination, there will always be people who commute in their own world.

Today is Friday, the second day of Rosh Hashanah, a Jewish holiday.  Whenever there’s a holiday, the commute is better. The highway traffic is lighter, the equivalent of driving at 8 am on a Sunday morning. On most days, the buses are full, but today there were plenty of seats. The bus even arrived one minute before its scheduled time. 

I got on the bus, and BAM ! Snapped back to reality. I encountered a clueless upper class woman. 

Before I continue the story, a bit of background info and some math. NJ Transit buses seat 49. There are twelve rows of four seats, with two on either side of the aisle. Where is the 49th seat, you ask? The twelfth row has five seats. The twelfth row will be the topic of another guest post. 

The aisle is twelve inches wide, and it’s as narrow as it sounds. Because of the narrow aisle, most people like to sit by the window to avoid being bumped by those boarding the bus. If anyone puts anything in the aisle, it’s an obstruction. Sometimes it’s unsafe, sometimes it’s an annoyance. Today it was both. 

So getting back to the story, there is an electronic sign above the driver that displays what number you are when you get on. As I boarded, I saw that only 26 people were on. Fantastic!

The clueless upper class woman was sitting in the second row, in an aisle seat. She had two bags. Where did she decide to put her bag? On the armrest, blocking the aisle. See the photo.

The seat next to her was empty. Everyone had to get past her and her hanging bag. In case you are wondering, the bag was open and contained the following items: a water bottle, a CVS plastic bag, and gray sweats. Well, working out is important, so no problem. By all means, keep your expensive purse in your lap and your huge second bag in the way of your fellow commuters.

Can't wait to run into her again when the winter coats come out. 

End of rant.  Enjoy the holiday.

Thanks Chintan, for sharing your story!

**

Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.

The best compliment I can receive is a new follower who was referred by a friend! 

Sign up for the blog mailing list by entering your email address in the "Follow By E-Mail" box.  Or, if you're on Facebook, give TheTrainInVain page a "Like."  You can also follow on Twitter.

Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com

September 23, 2014

Hello dave Guest Post: An Entirely Different Kind of Commuting Challenge

Today’s The Train In Vain blog post comes from Christine, a high school friend with whom I’ve reconnected via the magic of social media. She lives in North Carolina, far away from the commuting craziness we in the north live day in and out. Under all that southern charm and polish beats the heart of a New Yorker, and she has a great story to tell.

Christine was in a serious car crash many years ago. She walks with a cane and leg braces, a critical point to the story. Commuting is tough enough. A disability adds a whole other dimension.

I live in North Carolina, so I don’t have many commuting stories to tell, but I do have one that is pretty funny. Since I’m sitting at the auto dealership waiting for my car to be repaired, I’m going to tell it to you.

For a period of time in the late 90s, I lived in Hingham, Massachusetts, which is on the south shore of Boston. I was in school and my husband had taken a job at Lotus (now I’m showing my age… Lotus was bought 1,000 years ago by IBM). At this time, we were living with my in-laws.

Somehow, I developed a problem with my eyes. My vision would go blurry out of nowhere, and several times while driving I had to pull over and wait for it to clear up. I needed a doctor, and I found one at Massachusetts Eye and Ear Hospital. I had to take the T (Boston subway system) to get there. My father in law gave me a ride and dropped me off at the T station.

I got out of the car, and watched him drive away. I then realized I didn’t have my cane. Oh no!

You are probably thinking, “just call his cell phone!” But this was the late 90s, and not everyone had a cell phone yet. I didn’t have one. My legs are weak and I wear braces on them for support, but I can walk without the cane. However, I will grab onto any wall, railing, or steady object to ensure I stay upright. Without the cane, I look drunk.

So there I was, caneless, at the T station. I needed to climb the steps and take the train. I had to navigate Boston as as a weeble. Unfortunately, not one person offered to help. TTIV Note: I am certain that in New York, people would have helped. One thing New Yorkers do well is come to the aid of those in need.

I made it to my appointment. The doctor, a neurological ophthalmologist, did a thorough exam. As it turned out, there wasn’t a major issue. My eyes were having an allergic reaction to mascara. I suggested that the real issue was an allergy to my mother-in-law. The doctor agreed it was possible and even likely, but couldn’t say for certain.

The appointment over, I went to catch the train back to Hingham. I simply had to walk out the front door to the street, go one half block, climb the stairs, and hop on the train. I made it this far, right?

Remember the part about the thorough exam? That included pupil dilation. As luck would have it, it was a gorgeous, sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky. And there I was, no cane and dilated eyes. A thirty year old woman with her hands extended straight out like a zombie, sunglasses on, blind as a bat. I wobbled drunkenly to the train.

If I wasn't dressed so cute, I could have held a tin cup, collected handouts, and paid my way to Europe for a vacation!

I made it to the platform, but was scared to get on. I figured the doors would crush me. After several trains went by, I got the courage and timing to grab on and pull myself over the platform gap. I made it back to Hingham, where my father-in-law picked me up. He asked me what took so long, but I didn't tell him I let several trains go by or that I'd forgotten my cane. TTIV note: He should have come to pick her up at the hospital, in my view. But hey, this isn't my story.

You can be sure I've never forgotten my cane again. I also never took the T alone again either. Moral? If you encounter a well-dressed zombie approaching the train, look closely. It's probably me. My eyes will return to normal soon.

Thanks Christine, for sharing your story!

**

Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.

The best compliment I can receive is a new follower who was referred by a friend! 

Sign up for the blog mailing list by entering your email address in the "Follow By E-Mail box."  Or, if you're on Facebook, give TheTrainInVain page a "Like."  You can also follow on Twitter.

Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com

September 21, 2014

Hello dave It's Not Just Parking, It's STRATEGY

Today I'm going to share with you what it's like to park at the Hicksville train station.  Those of you who regularly read this blog know that I am a big fan of the 7:29 AM train.  If I'm going to make that train, I have to have a strategy. I have to know where I can park and not waste time where I can't.

Before we get started though, I need to explain the incoherence that is parking at Hicksville Station. Typically, I'd provide a crude drawing, but today we're more sophisticated.  The image below is an MTA map showing Hicksville commuter parking. It is not to scale. If it was, I wouldn't be able to fit Lots #4 and #5 on this blog page.

See the platform? It has LIRR on it, in red. If you look at the tracks east of the station, you will see that the tracks split. The split to the north is toward Huntington, and the split to the east is toward Ronkonkoma. I point this out to demonstrate how two major branches of the Long Island Rail Road converge on Hicksville, making it a major hub and therefore one of the busiest stations in the LIRR system.

This translates into competitive parking each day. You have to be up to the competition. Derek Jeter has to retire from his game at 40, but not me. I'm up for this day in and day out. I come ready to play 162+ every year.


Other Long Island Rail Road stations simply have one or two lots for all travelers.  But not Hicksville. The parking is disjointed, and there are lots all over the place. We'll delve into the five lots pointed out above, but as you can see there are many more than the ones I use.

By the way, you have to pay to park in the lots in red. People who don't have a proper permit but want to commute from Hicksville fork over $10 or more per day. Hicksville is THAT desirable.

I have a proper permit, so I can park in any of the non-pay lots. Pretty swanky, rarefied stuff, huh? Well, let me tell you about the parking experience first and you can decide your jealousy factor.

Hicksville lot parking, as it SHOULD be
Lot #1: The Town of Oyster Bay Parking Garage. My favorite place to park.  You drive in, you park, you cross a high-speed roadway with grand ambitions of not dying. You walk down a narrow, poorly lit pathway (I call it "Rapist's Alley") to the west side of the platform. If you don't get attacked by a lunatic along the way, it's easy as can be. Better get to this lot by 7:45 AM latest or you have no hope of getting a spot.


No spot? No problem
Lot #2: Mall Access and Lowered Chance of Death. This lot is great because you don't have to walk through high-speed traffic to get to the platform. If you need to run an errand at the mall after work, it's just north of this parking lot. The only problem with this lot is that there is never any parking there. The lot is a mirage. I believe people don't park here; they abandon their cars here.

Which way should I go?

Lot #3: Under the Divide. You can see that Lot #3 is in an area nestled between the rail split. The rails are elevated here, so you can take shelter from rain. However, be sure to wear a surgeon's mask to avoid breathing in the pigeon droppings. The underside of those trellises make great places to nest. If you don't watch, you will step in it. There's a lot. Not posting a photo, as I think you get the point.


Got a quarter?
Lot #4: A Lot Among Chainsaws and Tumbleweeds. I happen to like this parking lot, because it's right near a power tools shop. Something about power tools makes me very happy. When you get out as far as Lot #4, getting to the platform becomes a game of Frogger. Do you remember Frogger?  It was big in the 1980s, along with numerous other quarter-powered video games. In this real-life version, you have to cross four major roadways and try not to die. Ribbit.

In the image to the right, I'm the frog circled in yellow, crossing a road of racing vehicles, hoping to get to the train without dying.

One small step for a man....

Lot #5: Slightly Further Than Saturn.  Similar to Lot #4 in distance, but just a bit further.  Most who park this far away wear spacesuits.









Maybe one day they'll give me my very own parking spot, with a sign indicating, "Reserved For The Train In Vain Blogger." I won't need to drive around looking for parking ever again. Of course, nobody will know it's actually my spot, since the sign will be covered in pigeon droppings.

**

Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.

The best compliment I can receive is a new follower who was referred by a friend! 

Sign up for the blog mailing list by entering your email address in the "Follow By E-Mail box."  Or, if you're on Facebook, give TheTrainInVain page a "Like."  You can also follow on Twitter.

Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com


September 20, 2014

Hello dave A Quick Thank You

Recently, I checked the blog mailing list and was thrilled to see a group of new followers. Many are people I don't know personally, and I welcome you to the blog and hope you continue to enjoy my musings. The virtual camaraderie makes the commute enjoyable.

Hope you continue to follow! Keep giving your feedback, positive and negative, and ideas for future posts. It's all appreciated.

Best,
David


September 18, 2014

September 15, 2014

Hello dave A Morning Stroll In Search Of a Seat

This morning, I made a dash from the parking lot to the platform.  I had no choice but to get on at Seventh Avenue side, or the east side of the train. It is always crowded there, and finding a seat is too competitive for my taste. To illustrate, I've included a crude drawing below. As you can see by the purple arrow on the right side, I came up the steps to the platform on the east side, to face a throng of bald, faceless, and extremely short commuters who want to get on the train from the Seventh Avenue side.

Before I boarded, I decided I would walk through the cars to the 8th Avenue side, where it would be quieter. As I made my way from car 12 to car 2, a blog post happened.

Car 12: All Aboard the Clown Car!  I stood on the platform with about 829 people who all wanted to get in car 12. Within 5 nanoseconds or so of the doors opening, the seats were all taken.  After another minute or two, the aisles were clear and I started toward the next car.

Car 11: Your Average, Garden Variety Obnoxiousness.  This must have been the party car.  A guy on his mobile phone was yelling at his significant other, "YOU NEED TO PUT IT IN THE TRASH.  NO! I SAID, IN THE TRASH!!" I guess trash knows trash.  Others in the car were happily chatting. Loudly. This was the post-coffee car. I needed the pre-coffee car. NEXT.

Car 10: Yes! I FINALLY get to use my pole vaulting skills to get past your suitcase in the aisle. 
Given the number of suitcases in my way, this must be the Nomad car. "No sir, it's fine!  Please! Leave your 15 suitcases in the aisle, it's fine. Fortunately, I brought my athletic equipment, and will fly, to your astonishment, over these bags and be on my way.

Car 9: Construction Guy going TOWARD the crowded section. "It only gets worse in that direction," I said to him." "Thanks, he says. But I have to get to that side." I'd ask why, but then again, I just want to sit. Whatever. Good luck, sir.

Car 8: The Fragrant Smell of the Lavatory.  Mmmmm, it's like a combination of orchids, peonies, and berries. Actually it's not. It smells like a college dorm room carpet after a keg party. Keep going to next car. 

Car 7: Highly Observant Conductor Checking Tickets. I walked right by him, and he didn't ask me for my ticket. Why do I pay for monthly commuter pass when fare avoidance is this easy?

Car 6: Found a seat.  Forget going to Car 2. Found a seat, next to a rail-thin woman who appeared very hungry. JACKPOT!  And then it occurs to me why this seat is open. In the next row are two guys vigorously discussing the merits of sci-fi novels. After coffee, I'd probably listen and maybe even join the conversation. Before coffee, they're evil beings. They'll be quiet eventually. They won't? Ok fine. I have my headphones. 

Them PLD (Post Labor Day) blues continue.

**

Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.

The best compliment I can receive is a new follower who was referred by a friend! 

Sign up for the blog mailing list by entering your email address in the "Follow By E-Mail box."  Or, if you're on Facebook, give TheTrainInVain page a "Like."  You can also follow me on Twitter.

Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com

September 11, 2014

Hello dave Everyone's Got a Story To Tell About Today

Like most who experienced it, I vividly remember this day 13 years ago. Everyone has a story to tell.

I'm one of the lucky ones. I was in New York City but my story is boring. I was newly married, living in Manhattan.  My wife and I both worked in midtown. Nobody close to us was impacted directly by the attacks. I remember looking at the burning towers and arrogantly thinking to myself, "terrorists can try all they want, but those towers are not coming down."

Until they did. A new vulnerability was born.

Today, my client's office is near the World Trade Center site, and I've been commuting to the area and watching the ongoing construction. The memorial, fountains, museum, and public plaza are beautiful remembrances. Yes, it's touristy. I feel bad for the mourners who are overcome by emotions and have to navigate through selfie-takers and press vultures.

Nonetheless, I'm happy to see throngs of people smiling, laughing, and once again living life on that plaza. All good people lost something that dark day, and we're taking back what's ours.

Here's hoping your September 11th story is as boring as mine.  If you've lost people close to you, I hope you find some comfort in knowing your loved ones are not forgotten.

Yit-gadal v'yit-kadash sh'may raba.

September 10, 2014

September 8, 2014

Hello dave A Little Yippee Men's Room Watchdog

At Penn station, I walk into the men's room. Several urinals in a row along the wall. At one is a man with a back pack. Sticking out of his backpack is a little backpack type dog. Tried to use the urinal next to him. Dog barked at me. 

Only in New York. 

For (hopefully) obvious reasons, I am not sharing a photo. 

September 4, 2014

Hello dave Post Labor Day (PLD) Commuting Blues

It's September. And when it's September, everything changes. Camp is done, vacations are over, the kids go back to school. Lunches have to be made, homework has to be checked, teachers need to be met.

It's them "Post Labor Day Blues." Have you heard the news? No more cruise. The kids need new shoes.

The commuter also suffers from the Post Labor Day Blues. While a blues singer asks why his woman done him wrong, a commuter suffering from the PLD Blues asks the following questions.

Why does it now take 25 minutes to get from my house to the train station?  Long Island is not known for its modern roads.  The Northern and Southern State Parkways are called "parkways" because they were built a to accommodate slower cars on their way to parks. 25 minutes to get from my house to the station, compared to 10 in July and August. Box trucks, garbage trucks, a family of ducks, it sucks.

Driving to the train 
I want to hit the booze
Traffic gives me them 
PLD Blues

Where am I supposed to park my car?  In July and August, people took vacation. They got out of town. The parking lots around the station were emptier. There is a parking garage near my station, where I could park and walk right up to the platform. In September, that parking lot is full a lot earlier. And there are a lot more people who don't understand how to drive in the garage, adding time.  Much more competitive to get a good spot.

The lot is packed
I'm gonna lose
I got them full parking lot
PLD Blues


Where am I supposed to sit on the train? Standing for 40 minutes stinks. If you don't like to stand, you have to take the less crowded trains. When September hits, there are fewer of those. Today, I took a space next to an oozer. You remember the oozer? The oozer takes up one seat and then oozes into the next one. Hadn't sat next to an oozer since June.  Move over.

Oozer, move down 
I can't even take a snooze
You're givin me them
PLD Blues


Why haven't I bought those noise canceling headphones yet? That's a simple one. It's for you, loyal blog reader. You don't want me to get those headphones, right? If I drown out the noise around me, I won't know what's going on. I won't be able to report weirdness back to you. Still, I REALLY want them. Indecision.

Can't hear my tunes, but I know your
Biopsy news
Oh, you give me them
PLD Blues

One way to break those PLD blues is stay positive and focus on good things. The kids' camp directors are also looking ahead. My woman, she done told me they're already asking me to pay in full for next summer, in exchange for a modest discount.

Oh we got them.... PLD Blues.  Summer's just around the corner.

**

Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.

The best compliment I can receive is a new follower who was referred by a friend! 

Sign up for the blog mailing list by entering your email address in the "Follow By E-Mail box."  Or, if you're on Facebook, give TheTrainInVain page a "Like."  You can also follow me on Twitter.

Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com


September 1, 2014

Hello dave The Train In Vain Shares News From a Cruise

I've been away for the past week on a cruise, in case you've wondered why I haven't posted any observations recently.  On the cruise, I noticed some parallels between vacationing with thousands of strangers and commuting with thousands of strangers.  In this post, we'll explore some of the similarities and differences between a cruise commute to Bermuda and a train commute to New York City.

Bad weather happens, and there is stuff that is out of your control.  The conductor on the train will infrequently, but occasionally, announce that there is a problem at the destination.  Sometimes there is a track fire. Sometimes there is human tortellini on the rails because a person played chicken with an earlier train.  These issues can cause a train to be rerouted to an alternate NY-based terminal, such as Atlantic Terminal, Brooklyn.  On this trip, Hurricane Cristobal caused the Captain to reroute the ship from Bermuda to the Bahamas.  I have to say, there are worse things than hanging out at the Atlantis Hotel on Paradise Island among friendly Bahamians (instead of on pink sand with snobby Bermudans) and taking advantage of a fun water park.  

People like to eat.  Wow, do they like to eat.  I've spoken time and time again about the eating habits of train passengers.  People down pizza, pretzels, popcorn, sandwiches, beer, wine, and soup on moving trains.  On a moving cruise ship, people like to eat just about anything.  You haven't seen people stuff their faces into oblivion until you've been on a cruise.  And every cruise I go on I've observed the same phenomenon.  If they bread it, season it, and drop it in a pan of hot oil, people will eat fried towel and rave about how good it is.

This leads to the next point, which may be a tad unpleasant.

People are not afraid to show skin.  And many should be.  Sir, that tattoo across your chest may have said "Mom" in your younger years. Now it spells Mooooom. May I offer you a wet shirt?  At least on the train, these people wear clothing.

Well, usually they do.
Some announcement I don't need to hear wakes me up from my snooze. I've got my book, a lounge chair, and a drink. Kids are in the pool. I fade away, and.... "THIS IS YOUR CRUISE DIRECTOR KEN  SPEAKING, WE WILL ARRIVE IN NASSAU, BAHAMAS ON TRACK 17."  No, I'm just kidding. It was Track 18.

On trains, announcements come from people who'd rather not tell you anything.  On ships, announcements come from a super pumped up guy who would use the same tone whether announcing a port of call or confirming the vessel is sinking.

Shows followed by entertainers trying to sell DVDs and CDs. This blog wouldn't exist without great shows on the train, right?  Well, I saw some terrific entertainment on the cruise.  The "Tenors of Rock," who have been featured on the "The X Factor," and Mike Price, an incredible juggler who appeared on "America's Got Talent," provided amazing performances. These shows were just slightly better than the "entertainment" we often see on the subway.  The key difference was that there was little chance of an entertainer kicking us in the head as he did back flips.

These guys hawked DVDs and CDs when the shows were over.  They probably would have had open guitar cases with change and dollar bills inside, but no one carries cash on a ship.

My four year old informed me that he wants the juggler to be his daddy. I expect Mr. Price will make contributions to Danny's college tuition fund.

Signage providing odd guidance. On cruise ships, one is expected to not throw tissues, diapers, and of course, small automobiles into the toilet.  Makes me wonder what kind of toilet/vehicle incidents happened in the past that led to the production and placement of these signs above every toilet on the ship.

There were many other comparisons I made, but I was too busy stuffing my face to write them down.


**
Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.

The best compliment I can receive is a new follower who was referred by a friend! 

Sign up for the blog mailing list by entering your email address in the "Follow By E-Mail box."  Or, if you're on Facebook, give TheTrainInVain page a "Like."  You can also follow me on Twitter.

Twitter: @davidrtrainguy
email: thetrain.invain.829@gmail.com