A while ago, my dad has posited the idea of a train trip from Chicago to New Mexico. For him, the trip was largely driven by nostalgia; my grandfather had worked the rails for fifty-two years, and so Dad traveled the country by train.
It had been the glory days of rail travel. A cross-country train was the pinnacle of luxury; the dining cars presented michelin-quality food eaten with crystal and silver, and smartly-dressed porters and pages handled everything from luggage to martinis while the passengers simply enjoyed the trip.
Today, the idea of such a trip is at best a novelty; when I told some friends about our undertaking, the most common response was "why?"
And the trouble is, I didn't have an answer...At least not right away. I suppose I was mainly interested in QT with my dad. I'd been missing his companionship since we moved to Wisconsin. But the train trip as a good unto itself? I wasn't so sure.
Well, I'm here to tell you...now I am. I am officially sold on our railways as a means of worthwhile transportation, and over the next few weeks I'll do the best I can with my stories from the rails, to sell anyone who reads this as well.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Reason Number 1,234,556,345 not to try to be like a celebrity
Ah, traffic....
One of my main reason for moving from Chicago to Wisconsin was to avoid this bane of my existence. Yes, I can fondly remember days on the Edens expressway(an misnomer if ever there was one), sitting in traffic trying to turn my steering wheel into a speed bag.
There are many reasons for traffic jams in the upper midwest, some of which, like gale-force winds or blizzards are, in my view, perfectly acceptable reasons to slow down. Others, like fumbling for a new radio station, are not. The worst, most offensive reason for a traffic slow down, is the gaper's block.
For those of you not familiar, this is when mindless dopes with nothing better to do slow down to a snail's pace so that they can investigate a car accident or otherwise unusual motoring event. Nevermind that such accidents have NO bearing on the gaper's lives, nor can said gaper actually do anything about the carnage. Call it curiosity, call it compassion....I call it really stinkin' annoying, because it took pre-existing congestion and made it ten times worse!
When I moved to Wisco, it's not like gaper's blocks went away, it's just that they became much easier to deal with, as there's not nearly enough traffic to cause the sorts of delays I saw in Chicago.
That is, until this past weekend....
Let me set the story by telling you that my three-year-old son has recently starting using "the potty" rather than his pants for biological relief. This is a inevitable law of child development. Another inevitable law, attributable to Murphy, is that he always has to go potty while we're on a stretch of road that has no exits for at least ten miles.
We found ourselves in just this situation, and after interminable minutes of promising him a potty soon, we mercifully saw a sign for an exit. Relief washed over me; there would be no tears nor cleaning of pee-soaked car seats in my future....
SCREETCH!!
Go the tires when Daddy slams on his breaks.
Break lights...Traffic...joylessness.
After a moment's panic left me, we began to creep along with the rest of the bewildered public. I was sure that when we came upon the cause of this delay, it would be something substantial....I was wrong.
It was a boat trailer that had become unhitched from the vehicle which was pulling it. No one was hurt, and the damage to the boast wasn't even that catastrophic.
Color me...confused.
Then, as we approached, I took at close look at the proprietor of the boat. He was a towering man, with long hair, a bandanna, and a dyed-blond fu man chu moustache. He was clad in a sleeveless t-shirt and board shorts, and a deep tan juxtaposed his blonde hair.
Simply stated...he looked like Hulk Hogan...I mean a LOT like Hulk Hogan...to the point where I started to wonder...
And then I realized I was slowing down, just like everyone else.
The reason for the gaper's block was a man who bore a striking resemblance to a retired pro wrestler.
The moral of the story....Trying to look like your favorite celebrity not only makes you seem shallow and insecure....it causes perfectly nice people like me to become impediments to good traffic flow.
One of my main reason for moving from Chicago to Wisconsin was to avoid this bane of my existence. Yes, I can fondly remember days on the Edens expressway(an misnomer if ever there was one), sitting in traffic trying to turn my steering wheel into a speed bag.
There are many reasons for traffic jams in the upper midwest, some of which, like gale-force winds or blizzards are, in my view, perfectly acceptable reasons to slow down. Others, like fumbling for a new radio station, are not. The worst, most offensive reason for a traffic slow down, is the gaper's block.
For those of you not familiar, this is when mindless dopes with nothing better to do slow down to a snail's pace so that they can investigate a car accident or otherwise unusual motoring event. Nevermind that such accidents have NO bearing on the gaper's lives, nor can said gaper actually do anything about the carnage. Call it curiosity, call it compassion....I call it really stinkin' annoying, because it took pre-existing congestion and made it ten times worse!
When I moved to Wisco, it's not like gaper's blocks went away, it's just that they became much easier to deal with, as there's not nearly enough traffic to cause the sorts of delays I saw in Chicago.
That is, until this past weekend....
Let me set the story by telling you that my three-year-old son has recently starting using "the potty" rather than his pants for biological relief. This is a inevitable law of child development. Another inevitable law, attributable to Murphy, is that he always has to go potty while we're on a stretch of road that has no exits for at least ten miles.
We found ourselves in just this situation, and after interminable minutes of promising him a potty soon, we mercifully saw a sign for an exit. Relief washed over me; there would be no tears nor cleaning of pee-soaked car seats in my future....
SCREETCH!!
Go the tires when Daddy slams on his breaks.
Break lights...Traffic...joylessness.
After a moment's panic left me, we began to creep along with the rest of the bewildered public. I was sure that when we came upon the cause of this delay, it would be something substantial....I was wrong.
It was a boat trailer that had become unhitched from the vehicle which was pulling it. No one was hurt, and the damage to the boast wasn't even that catastrophic.
Color me...confused.
Then, as we approached, I took at close look at the proprietor of the boat. He was a towering man, with long hair, a bandanna, and a dyed-blond fu man chu moustache. He was clad in a sleeveless t-shirt and board shorts, and a deep tan juxtaposed his blonde hair.
Simply stated...he looked like Hulk Hogan...I mean a LOT like Hulk Hogan...to the point where I started to wonder...
And then I realized I was slowing down, just like everyone else.
The reason for the gaper's block was a man who bore a striking resemblance to a retired pro wrestler.
The moral of the story....Trying to look like your favorite celebrity not only makes you seem shallow and insecure....it causes perfectly nice people like me to become impediments to good traffic flow.
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