As I do every now and then, I’ve wandered off to NYC today. Yes, just like that! Usually, I go to the Manhattan Vintage Clothing show, or I go to see one of my favorite performers, James Maddock, at the little hole-in-the-wall Rockwood Music Hall. Though, I wouldn’t really call it a “hall,” because it’s about the size of my kitchen and living room combined, if that. Anyway, since I didn’t get my act together to go to the vintage show one of the three times it occurred this year, I decided to go to one of James' shows tonight, especially since the only creatures left at home to converse with can only woof and meow.
I have a friend who once tried to figure out the timing of my wanderings to NYC. I think he tried using my biological calendar, The Farmer's Almanac, and, come to think of it, the Dow Jones industrial average may have been a factor, too. Anyway, I don’t think he was ever quite able to pin down any specific scientific reasoning behind my declaration of “I’m going to New York City!” I think he gave up and just left it thereafter at “Have a nice time!” after my NYC war cry.
One of the things I love about this trip, other than the 24 hours of freedom from laundry, dishes, litter boxes, and barking, is the train. I used to fly a lot, but as I get older, okay, maybe it’s wiser, it seems that there is something quite relaxing about sitting on a train for three hours doing nothing but listening to music, reading, writing, or watching a movie.
Plus, the train has that gentle rumble that is soothing, whereas when you experience that same rumbling in a plane, you only feel sure that you’re going to crash! Currently, the woman to my left and the man to my right are sound asleep, no doubt aided by that gentle rumbling. I highly recommend the train if you have insomnia and would like to be rocked to sleep without making that embarrassing request of your significant other!
As I watched the snoozed people, I briefly thought about starting a company where people hire me to make them chill out. Yes, I'd be Jean the Chill Out Coach! One of the things I would do to an overworked and stressed out individual would be to plunk him/her on a train for three hours to do nothing but dwell in quiet time; yes, it would be like a quiet time intervention! And, I think that the quiet time would be followed by a massage, because I believe that the world would be a much less aggressive place if everyone got a massage once a week. Rock on, massage therapists, you future Nobel Peace Prize winners you!
Anyway, as you all know, I have my slew of notebooks. I am making my way through one, which you saw Iz using the other day to pen her story about Ben’s fluffy corgis peeing in the yard. I only have about 20 sheets left in it, so I went to pick out an extra one for the trip this morning. When I did, I happen to pick up an old one and see the notes I had written about a train trip to Philadelphia in April of 2008. I called it “Philadelphia Freedom.”
“On the way to the train station, I had to stop at the bank. Unfortunately, because I left the house later than expected, I was off schedule. I had to spend about 15 minutes before I left telling my daughter that she must go to school, no matter how hard she was trying to convince me that she couldn’t go to school because she could not see!
I drove like a maniac down Routes 2 and 128, parked my car in the Amtrak parking garage, ran through the parking lot with my three bags, and arrived at the ticket counter with only about 10 minutes to spare. I gave the agent my reservation, and I asked, “Is that –gasp for air– my train –gasp-for-air– out on the track?” The agent answered, “No.” –gasp-for-air– “Oh, thank goodness!”
While he printed out my tickets, I tried to compose myself and not look like to those around me exactly what I was – a woman whose organizational and multi-tasking skills had gone totally out the window sometime yesterday morning. As composure returned (but does it really ever when you’re a full-time working Mom?!), my gasps for air became mini heaves; I repositioned the bags, which were once on my shoulders, now dangling by my wrists due to the mad parking lot dash. I then looked around, that turn you do when you trip in the hallway and hope you're alone, to see if anyone noticed my complete state of frazzlement.”
I think that was the first trip that I began writing in a notebook. Fortunately, on this trip, I have my notebook and my laptop. Yes, this is live from the train to NYC! I have my pink laptop (manufacturer shall remain nameless!) and my pink phone (manufacturer shall remain nameless!), which I’m using as a modem. God, I love technology......most of the time!
I also like the train, because it’s a great place to meet and watch people. Again, I’m a people greeter/meeter/watcher. (Bet you I could find a job opportunity posted on Craig’s List for that!) On my trip to Philadelphia, I sat next to a lovely older woman named Fran the whole trip. (Yes, this is all in my notebook!)
She was going to Las Vegas for her 65th birthday and had never been there before. Well, she wasn’t taking the train to Las Vegas. She was going to Philly to meet her daughter, and then they were going to fly to Vegas together. She told me she had asked her daughter who would take care of the kids. Her daughter said that her husband would tend to them, and Fran told me she was still mystified as to how that was going to work out, as she told her daughter, “Your father never even changed a diaper when you were little!” Men have changed a lot since then, Fran!
I offered Fran some of my cookies at one point, and she said, “No, thanks. I’m trying to be good ‘til I get to Vegas.” I guess for someone who had never been to Vegas, she did have the Vegas strategy down. Good – not Vegas! Bad – Vegas, Baby! I replied, Oh, I’m being bad ‘til I get to Philly, then I’m going to be good!”
During most of the trip, Fran slept, snoring in a low hum. When she woke up, we were almost in Philly. She asked me the time, and I told her it was 2:15pm. She said, “That was a quick trip!” I said, “Well, you were asleep most of the time, so I’m sure it would seem that way!” She laughed and then her expression turned to one of concern. She asked, “Did I snore?!?!” I liked Fran, and her snoring didn’t bother me on bit, so I said quite honestly, “No. Not a peep.” I told her that I envied her ability to sleep like she did on the train. She said she was always good at cat naps. I replied that while I had always been good with cats, I had never mastered the cat nap.
When I got on the train this morning, I sat down next to an older woman. I hate not having a window seat, but I can live with the aisle. Anyway, I don’t need anyone to chat with, but at least I like to sit next to someone who’s a tad friendly. My seatmate didn't even say "Hi" when I sat down. Other than asking her where she was going, I questioned her no further, though I might have to ask her if I can plug in my laptop soon!
Anyway, things only got worse when I found my tray table was broken. No window seat, no friendly seatmate, and no tray table; thus, here I sit balancing my laptop on my lap. Hey, I guess that’s why they call it a laptop, huh? (I just asked her if I could plug in my laptop. She grunted “yes” and feigned inconvenience.)
When tickets were collected, I was approached by an attractive female conductor in her early 50s sporting a name tag that read “Cougar.” Yes, seriously. I asked, “Soooo, is that your real name?” She replied, “Yes.” Then she pointed to a pin in the shape of a crown on her lapel and said, “Queen of the Cougars! I have so many name tags. This is just one of them."
I laughed. She said, "Besides, didn’t you hear that Demi Moore no longer wants to be a cougar? She wants to be a puma, so I said that I’ll take that cougar title any day!” I laughed again, and she said, “I’ll let you know how it works out!” Ah, a woman modeled after my own crazy heart! And, isn’t it great how one funny Cougar can make your forget your lack of a window seat, your grumpy seatmate, and your broken tray table? ♥
“Not all those who wander are lost.”
~J.R.R. Tolkien
“That's another reason I love New York. Just like that, it can go from bad to cute.”
~Carrie Bradshaw
End blog soundtrack (♥):
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