Travelogue

Monday July 11, 2005

Travelogue

I’m convinced that were I to have been evaluated by a child study team when I was in elementary school, I would have been diagnosed with Dyslexia, Attention Deficit Disorder, Hyper-Activity and whatever else compliments those categories and ‘classified’ accordingly. I can still remember my mom telling me to stand still as I recited my catechism picking my nose and then twisting my ears. In those days, we had to memorize the catechism.

In any event, the thought of making a trip to NYC is enough to bring on a panic attack. Several weeks ago, I had to attend a meeting in Manhattan. Approximately two weeks prior to the event, I started to experience the pre-game jitters. Shall I go by train, car, helicopter, walk or what?

At the age of 68 and given the high volume of traffic, one has to schedule departure to avoid traffic jams or locate strategic motels along the way just in case the kidneys are working overtime. Drinking coffee before departure is not a good idea but then how can I keep awake behind the wheel? Go ahead and laugh. You’ll find out some day.

The train is not any more dependable or predictable in this regard. Several years ago, I traveled to NYC by train but we got stuck out in the meadowlands without power and the restrooms were also out of order! “What’s a father to do!”

Anyway, to prepare for my trip to the city, I did my search on Mapquest to review the auto option. Then I reviewed the NJ Transit schedule and NY Metro map. I opted to travel by train.

The ride into the city on the Midtown Direct was perfect. I forgot to mention that if you are not seated in the right car, you might end up in Hoboken rather than Penn Station? An alert conductor, however, might warn you to move forward. Fortunately by chance, I got into the right rail car. I didn’t know that the first four cars go to Penn Station and the last four to Hoboken.

Penn Station is something else. This is where my Dyslexia kicks in. Being a full-blooded American male, I prefer to find my way rather than ask directions. I always trust my instincts. One would think by now that my inability to know north from south, east from west in an underground terminal would have cured me of my dependency on instinct!

So now I’m walking the length of the terminal looking for the A, B, C, D subway lines. Looking at my watch, I decided it might be a good idea to ask someone how to get where I’m going. The transit cop pointed toward the direction from which I had just come.

Okay, I passed the entrance to the subway five minutes ago. Now I’m back facing automatic vending machines for a metro card. I don’t do well talking to machines so I opted for the live agent in the booth behind the bulletproof glass. She was on a cell phone but was kind enough to interrupt her call to attend to my needs.

“I want to get to W 72nd Street,” I yelled into the booth. (The noise of the trains behind and below made it difficult to hear. She yelled back, “What part of W 72nd Street?” I yelled, “133!” She said, “near what intersection?” I said, “I don’t know. Just direct me to any train that will get me to W 72nd St!” She said, “Okay. Four dollars” then passed the metro card through the window.

Now you have to know that prior to leaving Morristown, I had the feeling that although thousands of passengers use metro fare cards on a daily basis without a hitch, my card is not going to work.

Remember when I stated earlier that I usually trust my instincts? Well this time my instinct was right on target. I positioned the card into the slot and then moved it forward at a moderate speed as directed and nothing happened. The little computer indicator read: “Swipe again!” So I did it again, and again and again. Now I’m getting nervous because there were all these people behind me trying to get through the turn style. Then a nice man came up behind me and told me to pass the card a bit more slowly. I thanked him and did so. “Swipe again!” Okay, maybe I can crawl under the turn style – just joking.

Alas, after fifteen tries, I turned the card upside down and low and behold, it worked!

Now I’m on the platform watching all these trains come and go – no C train among them. I asked someone on the platform if I am on the right platform for the C train. He said yes. Did I mention that my superior instincts told me that the trains appeared to be headed in the wrong direction? I decided to ask someone else if we were on the right platform for uptown trains. She said yes.

In comes the C train and as I searched for a seat, I asked another rider if I was on the right train for 72nd Street. She said yes. Whew!

Ten minutes later I was on 72nd Street near Central Park looking for 133. The numbers start at 1. So obviously, I was at the other end of the block. No problem, walking is good for the arteries. I finally arrive at 133 and push the button for the meeting site. No response. Okay, I’m still early. I’ll wait and watch the passers-by coming and going. People watching can be fascinating, especially in New York.

Now it’s 10:00 AM, the scheduled time for the meeting. I push the call button. No response. I climb the stairs and knock. No response. I go back down stairs and push the button once more. I’m a patient man. Then back up the stairs and knock once more. No response. Oops, how about my cell phone? Yes, that’s a brilliant idea. So I call the office. No response. I leave a message and go down stairs. Probably had the wrong day. Okay, I’ll push the button once more. Aha! The voice says, “Come right up; the door is open!”

So why didn’t any one hear the bell, the door and the phone? It was a hot day and he AC was so loud, they couldn’t hear the bell, the door or the phone.

Okay, three hours later I’m heading back to Penn Station. I ask someone if he would recommend an alternate route back to Penn Station. Of course. Take the 1, 2 or 3 train at Broadway and Amsterdam Ave. As I approach the station, I start getting the ‘pre-game jitters.’ I fetch my metro card and slide it through the turn style. “Swipe again!” and here we go again!

After three attempts, I motion to a transit cop on the other side of the turn style. I have my collar on so he says, “Father, you can test your card on that other machine to see if it’s still valid. “Thank you.” says I, thinking to myself that I put four dollars on it three hours earlier. It couldn’t have evaporated. Anyhow, I slide the card through the ‘test’ machine. “Please swipe again.”

Fortunately this station also had a bulletproof booth with a live agent. I explain my dilemma. She tested the card on her machine and told me that the card still had $4.00 on it. Wow, I guess since I used it upside down the first time, it didn’t deduct the fare! Don’t underestimate the possibility of perks under the most unusual circumstances.

So back I go to the turn style. “Swipe again.”

“Officer, I have a dilemma. I can’t get the card to work.” Just as I got the words out of my mouth, the turn style responded. Must have been the magic of my personality.

At this point I’m a bit disoriented but I head for the stairs marked with the 1, 2, and 3 trains. Down the stairs I go and onto the platform. “Any train?” I had asked the man back at the office. “Yes, any train will get you to Penn Station.”

So now I’m on the train and as is my custom whenever I get on a subway train, I inquire of anyone, “Will this train get me to Penn Station?” She said, “No sir. You are heading uptown!” Ugh. Okay, I’ll get off at the next stop and head south. She said, no you’d better wait until the second stop. Then you won’t have to go up to the street level and reenter. Thank you, thank you!

I hopped off the northbound train at 96th Street and headed south on the express to Penn Station.

Are you still with me?

Now I head for the main terminal area where the large display used to post the departures for the NJ Transit. However, the display was taken over by the LIRR.

“What happened to the NJ Transit schedule?”

“It’s on the other side of the terminal and so are the gates.”

Wow, I think to myself, how did they move the tracks from one side of the terminal to the next? I finally arrived at the waiting area and discovered I had just missed the 1:15 PM train and would need to wait for the 2:15 local.

All good things come to an end. I boarded the train and found a comfortable seat by the window when in comes a woman with three of the most unruly kids I have ever witnessed in my life. The details are not important; suffice it to say that the entire car applauded as they disembarked at Maplewood.

The rest of the trip was a piece of cake – all twenty minutes of it.

Someone has said that life is a journey. I would say it’s like a trip to Manhattan. You never know what awaits you around the bend but it’s important to keep an open mind and say your prayers.

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