The Journey

Here I am on Amtrak's new Acela train, sitting at Penn Station, waiting to roll out towards Providence. Amtrak has been promoting its new accelerated rail service quite a bit, at least in New York. I discovered upon booking my ticket that the Acela gets to Providence exactly zero minutes faster than the regular Metroliner service. Apparently the tracks aren't quite ready for faster trains. So, they have the trains, the advertising, just no tracks. I think I would have done that in a different order.

The train is quite full, though it is all-reserved seating, so your are guaranteed a seat. Just where that seat might be is part of the excitement. At least you are sure there is a seat somewhere, unlike coach on the regular Metroliner. I'm pleased that I scored a window seat.

Amtrak online reservation system worked fairly well, though not without some small gaffs. Whatever you do, make sure you write down your reservation number, since it won't be emailed to you. I thought I saved the page with the reservation number, but instead saved a page with "Bad Query" on it. And, even though you log into the system with a user ID and password, you still can't get your previous itineraries without the damn reservation number. A phone call to Amtrak straightened it all out, after I got the paranoid feeling that perhaps my tickets weren't really purchased. Getting the tickets at the station was a breeze. Walked up to machine, swiped my credit card, and pushed the "Collect prepaid tickets" button from the touch screen.

For some reason, Amtrak likes to jam all the passengers onto the train in just 10 minutes. They announce the gate, and it's a mad crush for a narrow escalator, where a single person checks every person to see if he or she has a ticket. I think we all should have started mooing, because it sure felt like we were cattle.

I have not been on an Amtrak train in a long time. One bonus of my window seat is an electrical outlet. Looks like I don't have to worry about running out of batteries for the laptop. Perhaps I'll be smart and do some web design work, since I have a computer but no Internet connection. This page in particular needs some work.

Damn, I don't have the template for nosuch on my laptop. So much for being productive. Perhaps on the return trip.

The Acela accelerated its way into Providence about 20 minutes late. Go figure. Not that it would have mattered. The bus from Providence to Hyannis wouldn't be leaving until 11:30am, though I did not know this yet. For some reason, probably because I assumed any civilized city would be like to New York, I was surpised by the lack of any connecting transit information at the Providence train station. I even had the delusional notion the bus might leave from the train station. After roaming the tiny train station for 10 minutes in disbelief, I finally decided to put myself at the mercy of a taxi driver.

It took a few minutes for a taxi to even come to the station, the situation not aided by there being a small queue. When I finally secured a taxi, I informed the driver that I needed to go to the bus station.

"Which one?" he asked.

Gosh, who knew Providence had such riches in the motor coach department?

"I don't know. I am going to Hyannis."

"I don't know either. It's the responsibility of the passenger to know his destination."

I took a rolled up newspaper and swatted him on the back of the head. "Listen here, pal. Don't lecture me. Your job is to drive people who are unfamiliar with this fair city to where they need to go. It's your responsibility to have some basic familiarity with such things, especially connections to mass transit. How about you take 5 minutes away from reading the damn Providence Journal next time you are waiting for a fare, and learn a little bit about such things. It'll make you better at your job. It's a hell of a lot more useful than condescending to a visitor to your city, and a patron of your service."

He blinked at me in the mirror. Actually, I didn't say any of that, though I did remark how the train station was totally lacking in any information or visitor assistance.

"I'm pretty sure it's Bonanza bus lines." I offered.

"Ok. It's either that or Greyhound. I don't think Greyhound goes to the Cape." he said, pulling way from the curb.

You wanker, you did know which bus station to go to.

Luckily, we were both right, and soon I was killing time at a dreadful little warehouse of a bus terminal, where I watched the line at the ticket counter clash with the line at Dunkin' Donuts, which had a counter opposite. I did not realize the bus was available to be boarded some time before departure, and barely got a seat.

This journey reminds me why I remain in New York City. Not only is the actual process of travelling a general time wasting nuisance, the odd specimens of humanity I'm exposed to give me the shakes.




The Visit

My family is peculiar. And I don't mean this exclusive of myself. We're all a pretty strange bunch. I spent my time split between the house of my mother, who shares a house with my brother and his wife, and the house of my sister who lives with her boyfriend of many somewhat tense years. Because of my years in Bermuda and my lack of effort to keep in touch, I've become quite distant from all of them. With my divorce issues consuming less of my time and energy, I am now in a position to try and close some of that distance. Like most families, the dynamic between the members is somewhat complicated. In essence I came to them as a virtual outsider.

It was a good visit, full of many insights. I enjoyed the time with my sister, as we both learned something new about each other. I enjoyed the time with my mother, as we talked late into the night, and I rediscovered how much we have in common. The time flew by all too quickly.

I did end up having a conversation with my mother about my web journal. My prediction of how it would go was actually quite off. She was genuinely intrigued, and it did lead to a candid conversation about sexuality. When I went to bed that night, I realized how easy it was to share and discuss it with her, and I was suddenly made aware of what a remarkable woman she is.

I actually had a great Christmas. And, the best part is about to start, as Conny arrives today.

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