The Weather Personalities on TV were warning us all of the Killer Heatwave that was moving eastward across the nation in Mid-July. DC had not yet seen the peak temperatures that were to reach over 100 degrees. That notwithstanding the rail infrastructure in the region was already being stressed beyond it abilities to operate reliably.
MetroRail operations had suffered several single-tracking events due to rail misalignment and other systems failures. HVAC in some rail cars had failed and the summer tourists were making the cars extra crowded. MARC service had already experienced three 1-hour long afternoon delays on its Penn Line in July by the 20th.
MetroRail stations have been severely impacted by a major effort to overhaul its hundreds of aging escalators and elevators. At many locations where one escalator is being torn apart and rebuilt, passengers must walk the other stationary unit in both directions at the same time. Few people realize it, but they have the transit accessibility standards to thank for 40-inch wide escalators whet to people can actually pass each other in opposite directions. Just look at most private building escalators to see that most are only 24-inches wide. Those people who are unable to navigate the stationary steps with their bags, their baby strollers, bad knees and hips can thank the radicals who protecsted and sued WMATA to have elevators in every station not just the originally planned 1-in-3 scenario.
July 20th my afternoon commute started out relatively ordinary. I already knew to avoid the Metro Center West Entrance because the platform escalator would most assuredly be stopped. My daily commute requires the use of escalators while using a wheelchair. I freaks out some people but they have no idea that I have been doing that ride nearly every day for 16 years. The number of time I use a Metro escalator now tops 12,000 times.
My irritation with the state of MetroRail station hardware is more oriented with the escalators not working than with elevators not working. After all there is only one elevator at most stations to get anywhere. There are usually two or more escalators that all have to be stopped in order to reach the fubar status: You can't get there from here.
This particular afternoon the humidity was 100% and the temperature hovering around 95. I got to the Union Station train platform to find a barricade across the elevator door. The adjacent escalator to the left was one of the one that was being rebuilt. The one to the right was the two-way path that had a hundred foot queue waiting to get up. Even the people who were merely reluctant to walk the steps were doing so.
I turned around to go the far end of the station. The pair of escalators there were both stopped. The single one beyond them was also stopped. The only way out of the station was by rail car. The Station Manager told me I had to go to New York Avenue to get the shuttle back. I boarded the next train outbound to New York Ave. When there, that Station Manager knew nothing about the Union Station elevator outage or a planned shuttle bus. His call to Operations yielded the instruction that Judiciary Square was where they were going to stage the "bus bridge" back to Union Station.
I went back up to the platform to wait for the train. The Station Manager came up and said I had to look for the D6 bus because they hadn't gotten the shuttle set up yet.
I arrived on the street across from the National Building Museum just in time to miss the current D6 bus. But now the butterfly effect was setting in. The irony of fubars was about to kick into high gear. All I wanted to do was get up from the platform to the mezzanine of the station, a mere 25 feet of elevation and catch my accustomed 5:20 MARC train back to Baltimore.
Another Metro rider using a power wheelchair also needed to get back to Union Station. She was looking for the special shuttle. I knew the D6 bus would do the trick. We both boarded the bus after the driver clears the securement seating areas for our wheelchairs.
In a few minutes the bus was sitting across from Union Station ready to discharge passengers and the two of us. They who wanted to get off did and the driver began to deploy the lift. It stopped and stuck in the nearly down position and would not budge. He tried over and over to make it go. It didn't. He even tried the Microsoft Approach and shut off the bus and started it up again. Still nothing. He tugged it. He pushed it. He lifted it and tried again and again.
When the next D6 pulled up behind us the rest of the passengers abandoned ship. The driver called in to Operations for a maintenance truck. Soon he was calling again and got the, "we know your situation." We had to wait. At least the AC worked even though the door could not be closed. I had my Car 5 Gang buddies with which to send text messages with such that they were not holding a flip up seat open for me. Mike and Trish spread the word about my absence. What a great gang.
My fellow "detainee" was anxious to catch the next MARC Brunswick train at 7:15 because it was the last of the day for her. I could get trains as late as 11:00 if necessary. At 6:09 a supervisor and maintenance truck arrived. Out wait had been 40 minutes. She was already checking on hotel rooms for the night in necessary.
The driver and supervisor talked for a minute or so then the supervisor climbed into the bus and sat down. He fiddled with the buttons and switches for a minute and the lift started to run. In another minute the woman was out the door and on her way across the street to Union Station. On my descent, the lift failed again. "Do the laying-on-of-hands again and get this thing working," I said. He laughed.
The driver stood there looking a bit embarrassed. "What did you do," he asked the supervisor?
"I prayed on the way in," he said. I added that he laid on hands and drove the lift demon out. The driver and I crossed the circle together because he needed to use the restroom. "I really needed to go but couldn't leave you on the bus. There would have been hell to pay, if I had."
He left me with a parting thought. "You know, I choose that bus over another one today because the AC on the other one didn't work."
This entire episode was precipitated because every escalator in Union Station was stopped at the same time and the elevator failed. All the people who had already been on that bus were also delayed by the same equipment failure in the rail station.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
A message to MARC passengers regarding the designation of a Quiet Car onboard MARC Trains?
A message to MARC passengers regarding the designation of a Quiet Car onboard MARC Trains?
While the use of the Quiet Cars is permitted on MARC trains, passengers are reminded that this must be done responsibly. We have seen an increase in the number of complaints about loud talking (that above a whisper) on trains and disruptive behavior that has included loud talking, profanity, and in some cases, physical altercations that has been associated with passengers trying to self-enforce the Quiet Cars rules.
Use of the Quiet Cars on MARC trains is a privilege, not a right. The MARC Train Service reserves the right to restrict usage of Quiet Cars if passenger behavior is not appropriate and remove from the train those individuals that fail to abide by MARC rules and guidelines. This includes the use of profanity, refusal to follow instructions from conductors, and intimidation or threats to other passengers. The incident of last Thursday exemplifies the problem. A passenger who was incensed by a conversation that he deemed too loud and inappropriate to MARC Quiet Car rules gave the offending passenger the finger. The passenger stood up and shouted, “Keep your shush-finger for your children.” Where upon a hissy-fit played out amongst several passengers ending with a swat to the nose and the train crew having to send the unruly passengers to opposite ends of the car for a time out.
If Quiet Car decorum cannot be maintained, MARC reserves the right to discontinue the designation. Passengers are also reminded that hissy-fits and driving do not mix--MTA, State and local law enforcement will enforce anti-hissy-fit driving laws.
We value you as customers and thank you for helping us maintain a safe and pleasant atmosphere on board our trains.
While the use of the Quiet Cars is permitted on MARC trains, passengers are reminded that this must be done responsibly. We have seen an increase in the number of complaints about loud talking (that above a whisper) on trains and disruptive behavior that has included loud talking, profanity, and in some cases, physical altercations that has been associated with passengers trying to self-enforce the Quiet Cars rules.
Use of the Quiet Cars on MARC trains is a privilege, not a right. The MARC Train Service reserves the right to restrict usage of Quiet Cars if passenger behavior is not appropriate and remove from the train those individuals that fail to abide by MARC rules and guidelines. This includes the use of profanity, refusal to follow instructions from conductors, and intimidation or threats to other passengers. The incident of last Thursday exemplifies the problem. A passenger who was incensed by a conversation that he deemed too loud and inappropriate to MARC Quiet Car rules gave the offending passenger the finger. The passenger stood up and shouted, “Keep your shush-finger for your children.” Where upon a hissy-fit played out amongst several passengers ending with a swat to the nose and the train crew having to send the unruly passengers to opposite ends of the car for a time out.
If Quiet Car decorum cannot be maintained, MARC reserves the right to discontinue the designation. Passengers are also reminded that hissy-fits and driving do not mix--MTA, State and local law enforcement will enforce anti-hissy-fit driving laws.
We value you as customers and thank you for helping us maintain a safe and pleasant atmosphere on board our trains.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Hail, hail the gang is all here... well almost.
Months have flown by since the Gang had a quorum to hold a meeting. Unlike the Governor of Wisconsin, we held to the principles that a discussion and a vote must be taken at a duly approved meeting. That said, we postponed all official business until such time as we could all get back together.
The month of March seems to have has the power to influence personal work schedules, train time decisions and in some cases actual job choices. Bicycle Coast Guard Girl got a promotion to Mother with a new daughter, Amelia. After much initial confusion (by the Gang not the mother) the names Hanna and Amanda were but to rest as the name. Bicycle Coast Guard Girl must under go a similar renaming to Candice since she sold her folding bicycle and resigned the Guard to be the full-time mom. Her days as a Car 5 Commuter dwindled down each week as the final month of service obligation was fulfilled.
Amelia made a one-day commuting appearance due to papa's schedule conflict. We all gushed and fawned over the cuteness of the child. Grandpa George who had been circulating the baby pictures of his daughter's baby over the past few months felt the competition brought on by attention to baby-Amelia.
Baby pictures, typically of grandchildren, nephews and nieces get a place on the agenda at every turn. Child pictures are more than likely those of puppies and dogs since more folks have them than do they have toddler-aged human offspring to flaunt the pictures of.
And speaking of pictures, Mikey shared his recent global pictures from down-under. They represented both hemispheres and depicted the affect sea-floor spreading. We heard from alum Princess Carly from her temporary home-away-from-home in NC. Her gallery of pix proves that she is having a great time down there. Anyone wanting to nominate pictures of their own for inclusion in future Car 5 posts should send them to Car5Gang@Modalchoice.com saying that you would like to have them included. I don't want to assume.
The end of March brought about a return to the pizza and beer commute courtesy of Sandy. Attendance was light so we did not conduct business.
Commuting by MARC and Metro remains an adventure. The schedules received a major overhaul that has the entire system shook up, at least in the short term. Additional train times were added but they had to shorten some trainsets in order to make the new ones. Our beloved 5:20 express lost a car and sometimes two are out. This makes for more crowding in the mezzanines. Eventually, everyone will adjust and the pressures of timing and having to stand will redistribute the overload. An example is that the 5:20 no longer stops at Halethorpe after the BWI stop. This forced a lot of people to either the 5:10 or the newly created 5:25 Union Station Departures. A secondary affect has been that about a one parking level quantity of possibly Halethorpe commuters suddenly shifted to the BWI garage. I observed that on the same day that the schedules changed I had to begin parking on the fourth level instead of the third. Although that seems to have settled down a bit, there are many days where the number of people parked in the Number 1 garage is up. Could be those rising gas prices, too.
The elevator project is moving along, albeit slowly. We could be using the second set by the end of April, maybe. All the platform work at BWI is finally done, but the access ways to the new elevators have not yet been cut through the railing.
The connections at Union Station have been dismal for months lately. First they shut down the elevators for a twelve week overhaul. That actually did little to impede mine or most people's commutes. But then they closed the one escalator next to the elevator for its overhaul project. That closure created a huge backlog at the elevator. It amazes me how many women have bad knees and feel that they must announce it as a prelude to using the elevator while waiting for it or riding in it. Coupled with that is the number of people with wheelie carts who are unable to travel with that load without the benefits of electric stairs. Congestion relief will come when WMATA is finished overhauling the second escalator that is by the elevator. Each of the three projects has been scheduled for consecutive 12 week periods. Meanwhile my commute has been made ever the more complex and uncertain.
The prognostication I made at the start of 2011 was that this will be the worst year for Metro Rail operations. Essentially everything will get worse before it gets better. This fact is partly due to the maintenance of access that must be kept while the work progresses. The other part is that while they are doing the major scheduled overhaul work, other equipment will fail at unscheduled intervals. The third part is that everything has gotten a year older since the beginning of 2010. The upside is that work is getting done now.
WMATA has had its operational deficiencies, management deficiencies, funding deficiencies and deficiencies in the design and installation of essential mechanical systems. That all notwithstanding, moving forward from here is the important thing. The infrastructure of this entire country is in the same state of disrepair and decay. Therefore, I do not blame WMATA specifically for its poor condition. Everyone who uses the system daily has seen and knows that there have been unaddressed issues. The problem is that those people do not have the political influence to create adequate funding and demand excellent management.
The month of March seems to have has the power to influence personal work schedules, train time decisions and in some cases actual job choices. Bicycle Coast Guard Girl got a promotion to Mother with a new daughter, Amelia. After much initial confusion (by the Gang not the mother) the names Hanna and Amanda were but to rest as the name. Bicycle Coast Guard Girl must under go a similar renaming to Candice since she sold her folding bicycle and resigned the Guard to be the full-time mom. Her days as a Car 5 Commuter dwindled down each week as the final month of service obligation was fulfilled.
Amelia made a one-day commuting appearance due to papa's schedule conflict. We all gushed and fawned over the cuteness of the child. Grandpa George who had been circulating the baby pictures of his daughter's baby over the past few months felt the competition brought on by attention to baby-Amelia.
Baby pictures, typically of grandchildren, nephews and nieces get a place on the agenda at every turn. Child pictures are more than likely those of puppies and dogs since more folks have them than do they have toddler-aged human offspring to flaunt the pictures of.
And speaking of pictures, Mikey shared his recent global pictures from down-under. They represented both hemispheres and depicted the affect sea-floor spreading. We heard from alum Princess Carly from her temporary home-away-from-home in NC. Her gallery of pix proves that she is having a great time down there. Anyone wanting to nominate pictures of their own for inclusion in future Car 5 posts should send them to Car5Gang@Modalchoice.com saying that you would like to have them included. I don't want to assume.
The end of March brought about a return to the pizza and beer commute courtesy of Sandy. Attendance was light so we did not conduct business.
Commuting by MARC and Metro remains an adventure. The schedules received a major overhaul that has the entire system shook up, at least in the short term. Additional train times were added but they had to shorten some trainsets in order to make the new ones. Our beloved 5:20 express lost a car and sometimes two are out. This makes for more crowding in the mezzanines. Eventually, everyone will adjust and the pressures of timing and having to stand will redistribute the overload. An example is that the 5:20 no longer stops at Halethorpe after the BWI stop. This forced a lot of people to either the 5:10 or the newly created 5:25 Union Station Departures. A secondary affect has been that about a one parking level quantity of possibly Halethorpe commuters suddenly shifted to the BWI garage. I observed that on the same day that the schedules changed I had to begin parking on the fourth level instead of the third. Although that seems to have settled down a bit, there are many days where the number of people parked in the Number 1 garage is up. Could be those rising gas prices, too.
The elevator project is moving along, albeit slowly. We could be using the second set by the end of April, maybe. All the platform work at BWI is finally done, but the access ways to the new elevators have not yet been cut through the railing.
The connections at Union Station have been dismal for months lately. First they shut down the elevators for a twelve week overhaul. That actually did little to impede mine or most people's commutes. But then they closed the one escalator next to the elevator for its overhaul project. That closure created a huge backlog at the elevator. It amazes me how many women have bad knees and feel that they must announce it as a prelude to using the elevator while waiting for it or riding in it. Coupled with that is the number of people with wheelie carts who are unable to travel with that load without the benefits of electric stairs. Congestion relief will come when WMATA is finished overhauling the second escalator that is by the elevator. Each of the three projects has been scheduled for consecutive 12 week periods. Meanwhile my commute has been made ever the more complex and uncertain.
The prognostication I made at the start of 2011 was that this will be the worst year for Metro Rail operations. Essentially everything will get worse before it gets better. This fact is partly due to the maintenance of access that must be kept while the work progresses. The other part is that while they are doing the major scheduled overhaul work, other equipment will fail at unscheduled intervals. The third part is that everything has gotten a year older since the beginning of 2010. The upside is that work is getting done now.
WMATA has had its operational deficiencies, management deficiencies, funding deficiencies and deficiencies in the design and installation of essential mechanical systems. That all notwithstanding, moving forward from here is the important thing. The infrastructure of this entire country is in the same state of disrepair and decay. Therefore, I do not blame WMATA specifically for its poor condition. Everyone who uses the system daily has seen and knows that there have been unaddressed issues. The problem is that those people do not have the political influence to create adequate funding and demand excellent management.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
DC Commuters 4 The Cure
To all our great members, past and present, let's get behind these dedicated members and provide support.
Bob
-----------------------------------------------
Hey Car 5 Crew,
Good morning, there is something more powerful and life changing in the
world than breast cancer. You! Each year people come together for the
Komen Maryland Race for the Cure and create an unprecedented buzz of
hope and excitement. Survivors share their stories to help empower us,
volunteers keep the Race running smoothly, participants cross finish
lines and donors help change the face of breast cancer research.
Please take a moment to make a donation to the Komen Maryland 2010 Race
for the Cure, join a team or volunteer. Your contribution supports the
promise of saving lives and ending breast cancer forever by empowering
people, ensuring quality care for all and energizing science to find the
cures. Until there's a cure, there's Komen!
Thank you for helping make this year's Race for the Cure bigger and
better than ever before. Candice, Pam and I will be participating and
have formed a team, please follow the link to our team webpage, DC
Commuters 4 the Cure, to make a donation or join the team with us! It's
as simple as point and click.
www.komenmd.org/2010/dccommuters4thecure
Thank you,
Ericka Joseph
Bob
-----------------------------------------------
Hey Car 5 Crew,
Good morning, there is something more powerful and life changing in the
world than breast cancer. You! Each year people come together for the
Komen Maryland Race for the Cure and create an unprecedented buzz of
hope and excitement. Survivors share their stories to help empower us,
volunteers keep the Race running smoothly, participants cross finish
lines and donors help change the face of breast cancer research.
Please take a moment to make a donation to the Komen Maryland 2010 Race
for the Cure, join a team or volunteer. Your contribution supports the
promise of saving lives and ending breast cancer forever by empowering
people, ensuring quality care for all and energizing science to find the
cures. Until there's a cure, there's Komen!
Thank you for helping make this year's Race for the Cure bigger and
better than ever before. Candice, Pam and I will be participating and
have formed a team, please follow the link to our team webpage, DC
Commuters 4 the Cure, to make a donation or join the team with us! It's
as simple as point and click.
www.komenmd.org/2010/dccommuters4thecure
Thank you,
Ericka Joseph
Sunday, August 22, 2010
An Alternate MARC Universe?
People I know seem to have popped out of reality, or maybe it is I who has made a quantum shift into a different world. It all began on Friday, August 13, 2010 around 5 o'clock in the afternoon.
The plan was for a quorum of the Car 5 Gang to meet at the Center Café in the Great Hall of Union Station. Trish has circulated the agenda and itinerary for what was supposed to be a grand sendoff for The Princess. She had been a multiyear personality in Car 5 for several years. Princess Carly has celebrated her 21, 22 and 23 birthdays while maintaining her membership in good standing. Several weeks ago she announced that she would be moving to South Carolina to go back to college and finish her undergraduate studies. All our celebrity hopes were dashed when She announced that She could not make the party due to previous engagements.
Bobbert, for one, was incensed and deeply hurt that Princess Carly Muffin would blow off all her commuter family in favor of a few unworthy friends who could see her any time she came home to roost.
The anticipated attendance at the retitled Generic Happy Hour dwindled. Trish and Billy and I confirmed our plans. Sandy was running late with Metro Moments. Three of us were there when Trish got the message from Bobbert that he had forgotten about a medical appointment and would not be coming.
In the end, the four of us held up the ceremonial ritual of a few drinks and a bit of snack while toasting the departure of a friend. So long, Princess.
We all wended our way to the 7:40 train and impressed a few strangers with the camaraderie we four had. At the station we parted our ways for the weekend and each headed home.
Sometime over the weekend the imperceptible shift happened. It might have happened coincident with a flash of light that might have been lightning or a quantum perturbation that sent me into a different world. The small differences were not readily discernable at first. There were hibiscus blossoms blooming in my front yard in Mid-August. The grass was greener or maybe I just thought so.
Monday I caught the train and quietly perused my email on the way into work. When I got back to the evening train and boarded at my usual spot, the wheelchair lift was already in place like they were actually expecting me. I got on and waited for the regular gang to arrive. The train lurched out of the station on time at 5:20 (a rare occurrence). I looked around and nobody I knew was there. Strangers populated Car 5 around me. They were self absorbed and silent. It was ominous and too quiet.
I had heard nothing of vacation or change of work schedules that would account for this change.
I turned to my BlackBerry and thumbed through the late day emails and Twitter messages that proliferate and collect there. At first I was confused. The most unlikely of facts became evident. Somehow, some way, the President of the United States was Black! Over the weekend I was transported into this reality where things are really different. In this reality John McCain didn't win over Hillary Clinton and a whole different Democrat candidate, an African-American from Hawaii or somewhere got enough electoral votes to be President. Wow! America is a hugely different country in this universe.
I spent the entire next day pouring over the Internet to see what all was different in this world. I haven't discovered exactly what it was that stopped it, but Israel hasn't bombed Iran, and a three-way hasn't taken place between Iraq, Israel and Iran. Only the US is fighting useless protracted war in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Global financial markets did a meltdown during the Administration of George Bush's son! Son! I couldn't believe it. That man couldn't even talk straight. We made him President. Twice!
Well so many things are different in this reality. I suppose that I will have to get used to it being this way. Having seen what it is like in that other Universe, man have we gotten ourselves into some deep stuff.
When I arrived back at the evening train, there was the lift perfectly placed once again. I boarded and waited for the gang to arrive. 5:20 pm arrived and the train started out of the station with 4 of the 6 mezzanine seats still vacant. Two strangers sat across from me. Once we were underway, the 4 seats were taken by the people passing through from one end of the train to the other. No Car 5 Gang turned up. No messages from them lit up my BlackBerry. They all seem to have been left behind in that other universe.
Throughout the remainder of the week I came to realize just how many things remained the same. The train ran slow due to mechanical problems and other mysterious causes. WMATA scheduled the elevators at Union Station to be out of service for a three month renovation. If this were the universe I had come to know that elevator work would actually take six months and the escalators would be stopped at random intervals due to poor condition. I was beginning to wonder if this reality had a Princess Carly at all or a Big Bob, Trish, Mikey and all the other usual suspects. Maybe I will get shifted back to the old reality or an even better one.
The plan was for a quorum of the Car 5 Gang to meet at the Center Café in the Great Hall of Union Station. Trish has circulated the agenda and itinerary for what was supposed to be a grand sendoff for The Princess. She had been a multiyear personality in Car 5 for several years. Princess Carly has celebrated her 21, 22 and 23 birthdays while maintaining her membership in good standing. Several weeks ago she announced that she would be moving to South Carolina to go back to college and finish her undergraduate studies. All our celebrity hopes were dashed when She announced that She could not make the party due to previous engagements.
Bobbert, for one, was incensed and deeply hurt that Princess Carly Muffin would blow off all her commuter family in favor of a few unworthy friends who could see her any time she came home to roost.
The anticipated attendance at the retitled Generic Happy Hour dwindled. Trish and Billy and I confirmed our plans. Sandy was running late with Metro Moments. Three of us were there when Trish got the message from Bobbert that he had forgotten about a medical appointment and would not be coming.
In the end, the four of us held up the ceremonial ritual of a few drinks and a bit of snack while toasting the departure of a friend. So long, Princess.
We all wended our way to the 7:40 train and impressed a few strangers with the camaraderie we four had. At the station we parted our ways for the weekend and each headed home.
Sometime over the weekend the imperceptible shift happened. It might have happened coincident with a flash of light that might have been lightning or a quantum perturbation that sent me into a different world. The small differences were not readily discernable at first. There were hibiscus blossoms blooming in my front yard in Mid-August. The grass was greener or maybe I just thought so.
Monday I caught the train and quietly perused my email on the way into work. When I got back to the evening train and boarded at my usual spot, the wheelchair lift was already in place like they were actually expecting me. I got on and waited for the regular gang to arrive. The train lurched out of the station on time at 5:20 (a rare occurrence). I looked around and nobody I knew was there. Strangers populated Car 5 around me. They were self absorbed and silent. It was ominous and too quiet.
I had heard nothing of vacation or change of work schedules that would account for this change.
I turned to my BlackBerry and thumbed through the late day emails and Twitter messages that proliferate and collect there. At first I was confused. The most unlikely of facts became evident. Somehow, some way, the President of the United States was Black! Over the weekend I was transported into this reality where things are really different. In this reality John McCain didn't win over Hillary Clinton and a whole different Democrat candidate, an African-American from Hawaii or somewhere got enough electoral votes to be President. Wow! America is a hugely different country in this universe.
I spent the entire next day pouring over the Internet to see what all was different in this world. I haven't discovered exactly what it was that stopped it, but Israel hasn't bombed Iran, and a three-way hasn't taken place between Iraq, Israel and Iran. Only the US is fighting useless protracted war in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Global financial markets did a meltdown during the Administration of George Bush's son! Son! I couldn't believe it. That man couldn't even talk straight. We made him President. Twice!
Well so many things are different in this reality. I suppose that I will have to get used to it being this way. Having seen what it is like in that other Universe, man have we gotten ourselves into some deep stuff.
When I arrived back at the evening train, there was the lift perfectly placed once again. I boarded and waited for the gang to arrive. 5:20 pm arrived and the train started out of the station with 4 of the 6 mezzanine seats still vacant. Two strangers sat across from me. Once we were underway, the 4 seats were taken by the people passing through from one end of the train to the other. No Car 5 Gang turned up. No messages from them lit up my BlackBerry. They all seem to have been left behind in that other universe.
Throughout the remainder of the week I came to realize just how many things remained the same. The train ran slow due to mechanical problems and other mysterious causes. WMATA scheduled the elevators at Union Station to be out of service for a three month renovation. If this were the universe I had come to know that elevator work would actually take six months and the escalators would be stopped at random intervals due to poor condition. I was beginning to wonder if this reality had a Princess Carly at all or a Big Bob, Trish, Mikey and all the other usual suspects. Maybe I will get shifted back to the old reality or an even better one.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Two Days on MARC and Metro
The last two days on MARC and Metro have been a true challenge even for the most seasoned of commuters. First the good news: For Candice it's going to be a girl. Well I guess it is already a girl, but the arrival is only imminent at that point in time.
Princess Carly gave her notice. She is heading to South Carolina to continue her education. Two weeks is all that remain for commuting for her. She claimed that she would not miss the MARC and Metro with all its delays and uncertainty. I told her, "you will miss it; every chance you get." It is so much like having ones own child head off to college. Her sunny disposition and honest naiveté all the while being a wild girl and The Princess will remain legendary in the chronicles of the Car 5 Gang. Although she will not be an intrepid commuter any longer, she will always be the Princess.
Mikey, suggested that Shelly might fill that position. Carly snapped back, "Oh, no no. There is only one Princess." I am afraid she is right. A farewell happy hour at the Center Café is scheduled for Friday the 13th (for everyone who remembers to not drive that day.)
The week was a nuisance every day but the snafus reached a climax by Thursday. Garage 1 at BWI reopened, the northbound platform work has not been completed, the northbound track replacement seems like it should have been done by now but hasn't and the second set of elevators to the pedestrian bridge are underway giving us all yet another bottleneck until the track work is done.
Thursday, an Acela train broke down at BWI and we got snagged behind three other MARC trains. How fortunate that Amtrak trains break down IN the stations while MARC trains breakdown between stations. Okay, that is an unfounded supposition, but that is the way is seems to us. 40 minutes late, we get out to face the bed bridge and the stairs.
Friday, the afternoon fubars began at Metro Center with the backlog of Red Line trains at 4:30. One needs to get going earlier and earlier as the quality of WMATA service suffers. After waiting 11 minutes for a crowd to amass on the platform, the train finally arrived well loaded with people who were not getting off at Metro Center. After a few did exit, we began the daily ritual of packing ourselves in as best as PM attitudes would permit.
We were treated to a particularly jerky ride and stops at Gallery Place and Judiciary Square. On our way to Union Station from Judiciary Square the operator made a particularly hard stop. Everyone was propelled forward as the train decelerated. With a collective reflexive step to keep from toppling the odor of cluster-fart wafted through the car. The vapors of a dozen lunch time selections filled the air. Nobody looked at anyone else hoping to avoid the uncomfortable position making eye contact after such an event.
We had a few regulars on the way home. The train crawled along behind several leading trains. There were no reports of breakdown but we still arrived 20 minutes late.
I was treated one again to the "rain on the train that falls mainly on the brain…" On the brain, that is, it I am leaning forward. Otherwise the ceiling mounted HVAC Condenser dribbles into my lap and hands when I try to catch it before I get soaked. Nobody knows exactly how rank and foul that water is after it has been backed up in the unit long enough for it to spill over and drench a passenger below. Sandy provided hand sanitizer to mitigate whatever might be lurking in that brew.
Ah, another week, come and gone.
Princess Carly gave her notice. She is heading to South Carolina to continue her education. Two weeks is all that remain for commuting for her. She claimed that she would not miss the MARC and Metro with all its delays and uncertainty. I told her, "you will miss it; every chance you get." It is so much like having ones own child head off to college. Her sunny disposition and honest naiveté all the while being a wild girl and The Princess will remain legendary in the chronicles of the Car 5 Gang. Although she will not be an intrepid commuter any longer, she will always be the Princess.
Mikey, suggested that Shelly might fill that position. Carly snapped back, "Oh, no no. There is only one Princess." I am afraid she is right. A farewell happy hour at the Center Café is scheduled for Friday the 13th (for everyone who remembers to not drive that day.)
The week was a nuisance every day but the snafus reached a climax by Thursday. Garage 1 at BWI reopened, the northbound platform work has not been completed, the northbound track replacement seems like it should have been done by now but hasn't and the second set of elevators to the pedestrian bridge are underway giving us all yet another bottleneck until the track work is done.
Thursday, an Acela train broke down at BWI and we got snagged behind three other MARC trains. How fortunate that Amtrak trains break down IN the stations while MARC trains breakdown between stations. Okay, that is an unfounded supposition, but that is the way is seems to us. 40 minutes late, we get out to face the bed bridge and the stairs.
Friday, the afternoon fubars began at Metro Center with the backlog of Red Line trains at 4:30. One needs to get going earlier and earlier as the quality of WMATA service suffers. After waiting 11 minutes for a crowd to amass on the platform, the train finally arrived well loaded with people who were not getting off at Metro Center. After a few did exit, we began the daily ritual of packing ourselves in as best as PM attitudes would permit.
We were treated to a particularly jerky ride and stops at Gallery Place and Judiciary Square. On our way to Union Station from Judiciary Square the operator made a particularly hard stop. Everyone was propelled forward as the train decelerated. With a collective reflexive step to keep from toppling the odor of cluster-fart wafted through the car. The vapors of a dozen lunch time selections filled the air. Nobody looked at anyone else hoping to avoid the uncomfortable position making eye contact after such an event.
We had a few regulars on the way home. The train crawled along behind several leading trains. There were no reports of breakdown but we still arrived 20 minutes late.
I was treated one again to the "rain on the train that falls mainly on the brain…" On the brain, that is, it I am leaning forward. Otherwise the ceiling mounted HVAC Condenser dribbles into my lap and hands when I try to catch it before I get soaked. Nobody knows exactly how rank and foul that water is after it has been backed up in the unit long enough for it to spill over and drench a passenger below. Sandy provided hand sanitizer to mitigate whatever might be lurking in that brew.
Ah, another week, come and gone.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
A Pair of Whammies and an Ace Kicker
It happens all too often. It seems to me that it happens more often just as I am getting ready to put the commute on hold for a few days while I travel on business. The correlation is uncanny and I have mentioned to several of the regular MARC conductors enough times that when something goes terribly wrong, one or another will ask if I am traveling again. It used to be a preponderance of incidents low platform arrivals at Union Station that occur when I am about to travel. Now the train that I ride in the morning so regularly arrives on 8 or 16 that the correlation has been made meaningless.
This doesn’t mean that other fubars don’t surface to fill the void. It was July 26, the 20th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act. This day will live in my memory as the day of A Pair of Whammies and an Ace Kicker.
First let me explain that the following day I was scheduled to fly to Alabama on company business and would be off the remainder of the week. We arrived on the 16 Track as recent normal would dictate. The manual lift was littered with trash that the conductor kicked to the curb, so to speak, and onto the track bed. Beads of sweat on his forehead formed into rivulets and dripped off his chin. As always, I thanked him for the service he provided and let him know that I was going to be away for the remainder of the week. He replied with, “ah, oh.” We both knew that something probably was in store for us.
I departed the office a few minutes early in order to stop by the ATM at the corner near the office. I would need a few dollars for the meals on the trip. When I arrived at the station, Dave, one of the station supervisors gave be the heads up for the 16 Track so that I could get aboard before the onslaught of the remaining 899 passengers. I got me vertical ride to the car floor level and backed into my usual spot. Soon others of the Gang filtered in. Sandy and Mikey arrived followed by George. Even Princess Carly arrived soon enough to get a seat. George got up for Shelly, who has been a new addition to the usual suspects. Mikey held his seat in case Candice arrived.
Billy and Andrew made their appearances and Susan too. We had a quorum and a peanut gallery of itinerants, those people who just happen to stop for an open seat.
The day had been one of those above 90 days where Amtrak promised cold water in the station and just water on the trains in case there was a problem. The HVAC cut out a minute or two before the train started moving. The Princess, sitting in her corner spot, said, “A least we are moving.” It could not have been more than 30 seconds before the train slowed to a stop. I gave Carly one of those sideways glances and expression of mock disgust.
We all waited for the announcement. They were going to get the on-site mechanic out to the locomotive to see about getting it restarted. We had only moved about 2 car lengths before the end came. They fiddled about for a few minutes before announcing that the train was dead and the run canceled. Remember the double whammy? Here it comes. The 6 o’clock departure would take on as many of us that would fit. Here it is. The 6 o’clock train is on Track 8.
Now I have to wait to get off after they drag the half dilapidated lift down to my new location AND I would need to wait again to get back on the replacement train. The Gang ran ahead and regrouped in the fifth car on the new trainset. While there were a few strangers already seated, Carly and Shelly got their relative positions again. While I waited for the lift to be brought along the platform, Sandy and George taunted me by holding cold beer cans up to the window. Although I would have to wait, I did know that a cold one would be waiting. Billy took the opportunity to stop by the station package store.
A round of cheers when up as I made my entrance. Even though the aisle was crowded, my usual spot had been preserved. The new fifth car was a “café car” with the alcove behind where I sit. I offered to pull in there if two people cared to sit. Billy declared, “no way, we fought hard to keep that seat up.” I didn’t argue. Soon enough I was cracking open the cold one that was handed across the aisle and along to me.
We waited until the scheduled departure of this train. As we lurched into motion I said to Carly, “don’t say a word.” She pursed her lips and kept quiet. We held our anticipation until we were fully out of the station.
One of the occasional guys who drops in on occasion got talking about how the heat breaks down the locomotives and that they knew that DC was hot in the summer. Why then didn’t they buy equipment that wasn’t as sensitive to the heat? Billy mentioned the catenary lines and how they sag when it is hot. Mikey added the phrase “the cat and the canary” from our previous raucous conversations.
I said that it was just like the railroad folks to underestimate the needs of the people that serve. After all they would prefer to be hauling freight. Bill questioned, “Why so negative, Bob? You are usually the optimist.”
Mikey quipped, “He’s SEEN the canary.” That brought up all the imminent failures we have experienced over the years. Susan brought up her fifteen years of MARC commuting and how even when it was bad in those “old days” it was not nearly so often.
The ride moved along reasonably fast up until we had to stop to allow the Acela to clear the BWI platform before we proceeded. I promised an “ace kicker.”
The train stopped with our car reasonably close to the stairwell. I jumped out and headed for the stairs like everyone else. Susan and I waited by the elevator for it to return to the lower level. A crowd of other anticipatory commuters hoped for a spot in the elevator. One of these days BWI station will have two elevators on both sides of the platform. For now though the single rickety units would have to suffice. We packed in and bore up under the extreme heat of 8 human bodies packed into an already hot 280 cubic foot box. When we arrived at the pedestrian bridge level, the kicker became manifest. The door failed to open. The buttons failed to prompt the door. The car would not move and the door did not open.
At least the emergency bell, for what it’s worth, rang out clearly. The emergency phone also dutifully dialed its prescribed number. No one answered. Maybe he or she was out for a smoke or a toilet break or maybe no one was there. We didn’t wait.
A woman asked the logical question, “can we open the door ourselves.” She also posed the associated one about how we would do it. Undoubtedly there was at least one person on the verge of freakout.
I said for those by the door to place the palms of their hands flat on the door and push left. With several intermittent pushes, the door mechanism clicked into place and it slowly slid open. In one big wave everyone was out the door. I quipped to myself that I would probably be the only one in the elevator on the other side. It was astute deductive reasoning. No one waited there to ride down.
Just as I was about to cross the bridge, Jill emerged from the stairwell and we walked over together. I related that we had just averted a major meltdown in the stuck elevator. “Really,” she pondered? “Yes, really. No one is waiting to ride down in this one.” It arrived at my call, Jill and I rode down together. There was no Ace to match the kicker.
Now my only travails will be the three As of flying that constantly are a problem to the traveler: Airlines, Airplanes and Airports. They are all equally good and equally bad each in their own ways. But THAT is another story.
This doesn’t mean that other fubars don’t surface to fill the void. It was July 26, the 20th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act. This day will live in my memory as the day of A Pair of Whammies and an Ace Kicker.
First let me explain that the following day I was scheduled to fly to Alabama on company business and would be off the remainder of the week. We arrived on the 16 Track as recent normal would dictate. The manual lift was littered with trash that the conductor kicked to the curb, so to speak, and onto the track bed. Beads of sweat on his forehead formed into rivulets and dripped off his chin. As always, I thanked him for the service he provided and let him know that I was going to be away for the remainder of the week. He replied with, “ah, oh.” We both knew that something probably was in store for us.
I departed the office a few minutes early in order to stop by the ATM at the corner near the office. I would need a few dollars for the meals on the trip. When I arrived at the station, Dave, one of the station supervisors gave be the heads up for the 16 Track so that I could get aboard before the onslaught of the remaining 899 passengers. I got me vertical ride to the car floor level and backed into my usual spot. Soon others of the Gang filtered in. Sandy and Mikey arrived followed by George. Even Princess Carly arrived soon enough to get a seat. George got up for Shelly, who has been a new addition to the usual suspects. Mikey held his seat in case Candice arrived.
Billy and Andrew made their appearances and Susan too. We had a quorum and a peanut gallery of itinerants, those people who just happen to stop for an open seat.
The day had been one of those above 90 days where Amtrak promised cold water in the station and just water on the trains in case there was a problem. The HVAC cut out a minute or two before the train started moving. The Princess, sitting in her corner spot, said, “A least we are moving.” It could not have been more than 30 seconds before the train slowed to a stop. I gave Carly one of those sideways glances and expression of mock disgust.
We all waited for the announcement. They were going to get the on-site mechanic out to the locomotive to see about getting it restarted. We had only moved about 2 car lengths before the end came. They fiddled about for a few minutes before announcing that the train was dead and the run canceled. Remember the double whammy? Here it comes. The 6 o’clock departure would take on as many of us that would fit. Here it is. The 6 o’clock train is on Track 8.
Now I have to wait to get off after they drag the half dilapidated lift down to my new location AND I would need to wait again to get back on the replacement train. The Gang ran ahead and regrouped in the fifth car on the new trainset. While there were a few strangers already seated, Carly and Shelly got their relative positions again. While I waited for the lift to be brought along the platform, Sandy and George taunted me by holding cold beer cans up to the window. Although I would have to wait, I did know that a cold one would be waiting. Billy took the opportunity to stop by the station package store.
A round of cheers when up as I made my entrance. Even though the aisle was crowded, my usual spot had been preserved. The new fifth car was a “café car” with the alcove behind where I sit. I offered to pull in there if two people cared to sit. Billy declared, “no way, we fought hard to keep that seat up.” I didn’t argue. Soon enough I was cracking open the cold one that was handed across the aisle and along to me.
We waited until the scheduled departure of this train. As we lurched into motion I said to Carly, “don’t say a word.” She pursed her lips and kept quiet. We held our anticipation until we were fully out of the station.
One of the occasional guys who drops in on occasion got talking about how the heat breaks down the locomotives and that they knew that DC was hot in the summer. Why then didn’t they buy equipment that wasn’t as sensitive to the heat? Billy mentioned the catenary lines and how they sag when it is hot. Mikey added the phrase “the cat and the canary” from our previous raucous conversations.
I said that it was just like the railroad folks to underestimate the needs of the people that serve. After all they would prefer to be hauling freight. Bill questioned, “Why so negative, Bob? You are usually the optimist.”
Mikey quipped, “He’s SEEN the canary.” That brought up all the imminent failures we have experienced over the years. Susan brought up her fifteen years of MARC commuting and how even when it was bad in those “old days” it was not nearly so often.
The ride moved along reasonably fast up until we had to stop to allow the Acela to clear the BWI platform before we proceeded. I promised an “ace kicker.”
The train stopped with our car reasonably close to the stairwell. I jumped out and headed for the stairs like everyone else. Susan and I waited by the elevator for it to return to the lower level. A crowd of other anticipatory commuters hoped for a spot in the elevator. One of these days BWI station will have two elevators on both sides of the platform. For now though the single rickety units would have to suffice. We packed in and bore up under the extreme heat of 8 human bodies packed into an already hot 280 cubic foot box. When we arrived at the pedestrian bridge level, the kicker became manifest. The door failed to open. The buttons failed to prompt the door. The car would not move and the door did not open.
At least the emergency bell, for what it’s worth, rang out clearly. The emergency phone also dutifully dialed its prescribed number. No one answered. Maybe he or she was out for a smoke or a toilet break or maybe no one was there. We didn’t wait.
A woman asked the logical question, “can we open the door ourselves.” She also posed the associated one about how we would do it. Undoubtedly there was at least one person on the verge of freakout.
I said for those by the door to place the palms of their hands flat on the door and push left. With several intermittent pushes, the door mechanism clicked into place and it slowly slid open. In one big wave everyone was out the door. I quipped to myself that I would probably be the only one in the elevator on the other side. It was astute deductive reasoning. No one waited there to ride down.
Just as I was about to cross the bridge, Jill emerged from the stairwell and we walked over together. I related that we had just averted a major meltdown in the stuck elevator. “Really,” she pondered? “Yes, really. No one is waiting to ride down in this one.” It arrived at my call, Jill and I rode down together. There was no Ace to match the kicker.
Now my only travails will be the three As of flying that constantly are a problem to the traveler: Airlines, Airplanes and Airports. They are all equally good and equally bad each in their own ways. But THAT is another story.
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