i'm the train they call the city of new orleans; i'll be gone 500 miles before the day is done
here's a draft missive i recovered from late march of this year:
i'm back from another visit to da lou, continuing on my 'two weeks in chicago, then out for a few days' plan that began in october. the folks are hanging in, best to be expected with everything they're going through. it's a very interesting thing to be dealing with these major illnesses and the parental units at my age and theirs. i truly implore anyone who has parents that are still healthy to thank their lucky stars for it. blessed be those who can discuss trips their folks are taking in retirement rather than when the next round of chemotherapy is coming or how to expand one's lung capacity beyond the 50% marker. i suppose i shouldn't complain. i made it nearly to my 30s before these issues became daily concern -- many of my friends had already lost a parent by the time we were in college. perhaps i've been luckier than i feel as of late.
so, adventure was mine in getting to union station for my southbound amtrak last wednesday. neither of my personal cabbies were driving when i needed transport, so i went against my better judgement and chose not to order a cab from united american and just hoofed it to ashland (for non-chicagoans, this is the closest major north/south street to my crib) to hail a driver off the road. as i started my walk, i spied the ashland bus tearing away from my stop and figured the #9 would be nowhere to be seen when i got there, so i started working my 'hailing with authority' stance in order to attract one of the three occupied cabs i encountered. i should mention that i left the crib @ 4:20 to hit my train leaving at 5:15 and after 10 minutes, with nary a cab stopping, the #9 came ambling up again to my shock. i figured i best jump on that thing in case the cab sitch remained bleak and i now know that there must be a better way to get to union station than that which i elected to take. made my first connection @ the ashland green line station, forgetting the massive amount of stairway to heaven once must slug up to get to the platform. 42 steps, and yes, i counted every damn one as i played pack mule with a plump suitcase, backpack and messenger bag throwing the pressure on my joints. if i'd been travelling for work with all that gear, i'd have been toast. (and, incidentally, if a band that has their fair share of gear to contend with deems my conference barrels to be a royal pain, you do the math.) i'm starting to sweat the time a bit on the el, but am distracted by the loop route's architecture. i do miss me some city views now that my office is in faux suburbia (literally straddling the border between city of chicago and inner burb) and i must drive to work rather than hoof it on the bus or el. i transferred to the blue line (31 steps down to the tunnels), with the clinton stop being the only place i can remember climbing off to hit the train station (33 steps back up), yet forgetting how far that damn stop is from the building of tracks. needless to say, by the time i hit the doors, the clock outside is telling me i gots five scant minutes to race in, collect my ticket and get my ass on that outbound train. oh, shit. i hit the door with some spring in my step, and briefly consider giving my suitcase the "untouchables" treatment by shoving it down the stairs made famous for carrying the baby carriage into the middle of a showdown, and think better of it. (i've lost track of my stair count, but there was another nice batch here.) zipped through the station til i hit the amtrak ticket counters and immediately slide into one manned by this dude i recognize as being snippy with me in the past. i have to interject here to mention that i have had multiple run-ins with the folks working the inside for amtrak, yet the peeps running the trains themselves have been gold every single time. what gives? you know, they get to work in this beautifully restored train station, managing not the insanity of the metra trains (commuter rigs for suburban destinations, and a veritable ton of them coming and going all day and night), but just the routes running out of town. i've never witnessed any hysteria they've had to deal with, though surely they get some antics occasionally. the point i'm trying to make is that i'm beginning to take issue with the shit they likes to sling my way, and after this round, i think i'm going to start throwing back my own brand of attitude in their faces from here on out. and nobody really wants that, i can assure you. so i'm giving this crab ass ticket taker my driver's license and sweetly ask if my train is running on time. instead of saying, "boy, you're cutting it close. you'll need to hurry out to the track.", this asshat *barks* at me, "you're gonna have to run!! understand? i said, run! they're not going to hold that train forever! (big sigh of annoyance as he tosses my ticket at me) just sign that on the train, and run! go!!" now, i can already feel my hip slinging back into 'i'm gonna let loose on your ass' mode, but damn, i gots to run, so he was spared.....this time. and there won't be a next. seriously, like i wanted to be running all over the el to get to the station and be late! i wanted a damn cab! (and will never hit this station again without one.) so, i'm running, and when i say i'm running, i mean i'm like charles bronson in "the great escape". my legs are on fire and i'm dodgin', bobbin' and weavin' through scads of people, miraculously never entangling with anyone in this obstacle course. at one point, i nearly collide into a line of folks boarding another train, when in one fell swoop, i snatch my neck pillow out from the handle of my suitcase, drop the handle down and snatch that bag airborne as i do a hop/skip/stag leap through this line, drop the bag on the ground and whip it back into wheeled motion, never stopping for a second. as i hit the boarding area, another bitch at amtrak is shrieking the last call for my train and i come racing up with my ticket out and say, "i'm on that train." and what do you think i got? another round of attitude as if this slag's wrists were gonna get snapped if that thing didn't leave on time. if i hadn't been in perpetual motion, she too was gonna get an earfull. i hate to be all 'this customer pays your bills', but damn, keep it real! amtrak has been threatening to release this route from chicago to st. louis for years and i, as a bi-monthly passenger, am effectively helping to keep their shit running, so don't go there with me. you know that scene in "evita" (c'mon, i mean, who doesn't?) where peron is telling his cabinet who all hate the first lady not to derive satisfaction from the fact that she's slowing down and can't be in their biz as much as before. he sings, "she's the one who's kept us where we are." and they echo back to him, "she's the one who's kept *you* where you are." amtrak, i help keep you where you are, so let's show a smidge of courtesy, okay? i can fly southwest for about $30 more than taking that tardy train, so you best recognize and keep me and the other folks like me somewhat pleased with your customer service skills. i kept running to the train and finally encountered a lovely conductor who actually carried my bags on for me -- with nary a snippetty tone to be reported. glad to see me, welcome aboard. that's what i'm talking about.
the ride home was lovely. i was on the texas eagle which has a delightful viewing car that perches you high and allows you some nice scenery through extra wide windows. had we not been subjected to viewings of "the outlaw josey wales" on two mach five volume tv's in that car, i could have stayed the entire ride. spent a few hours there, then headed back to my seat to read a bit of "shampoo nation" by douglas coupland. enjoyable.
as always, i felt that familiar tug in my chest when we rounded the first curve into the city, revealing the skyline i'm deeply in love with. whether i'm returning from a flight landing at o'hare, driving home from work or heading into the city from highway 55, that skyline makes me relax immediately. "welcome home, old friend. you are exactly where you should be," it whispers to me, soothing my road weariness immediately.
posted by SecretAgentGirl at 12:55 PM
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