Doesn't seem a day over 95
Happy Birthday to the Subway -- link here to NYT article, slideshow, etc.
it's a century old today.
most important dates and anniversaries pass me by without much fanfare, and today was no different. no crazy delays or re-routings, no screaming fights between passengers, no unusually crazy characters -- a friend last night recounted that on her way home she was seated across from a man who took it upon himself to remove his fake teeth and begin cleaning them [with his tounge].
it was fitting though that i had one of my favorite train experiences to mark the day. there are lots of elementary schools down on the LES, and every so often, a field trip to i don't know where means that a few dozen loud, shrill children pile on to the f train at east broadway. "hold on to the pole! move to the middle!" urge the well-meaning but largely ignored teachers.
surely you're not serious. if they hold on to the poll, then when the train starts [or stops] at each station, they'd stay still and not go careening into sleepy commuters trying to read their new yorkers and drink their coffee.
the children become missiles -- screaming, giggling missiles -- and they are a pain in the ass until you realize how cool it must be to be on a train when you're that little, when you're still too young to know that you're about to crash into the fat russian man, who's shoved up against the hassidic lady, who's knocked the coffee cup held by the well-dressed, but brown shoed, ad sales guy, which nearly spills on the white coat of some other person i just made up.
you're jealous, because these little kids don't seem to care. they're on the closest thing to a roller coaster most of them have ever been on. and instead of being pissed, you're happy for them.
it's a century old today.
most important dates and anniversaries pass me by without much fanfare, and today was no different. no crazy delays or re-routings, no screaming fights between passengers, no unusually crazy characters -- a friend last night recounted that on her way home she was seated across from a man who took it upon himself to remove his fake teeth and begin cleaning them [with his tounge].
it was fitting though that i had one of my favorite train experiences to mark the day. there are lots of elementary schools down on the LES, and every so often, a field trip to i don't know where means that a few dozen loud, shrill children pile on to the f train at east broadway. "hold on to the pole! move to the middle!" urge the well-meaning but largely ignored teachers.
surely you're not serious. if they hold on to the poll, then when the train starts [or stops] at each station, they'd stay still and not go careening into sleepy commuters trying to read their new yorkers and drink their coffee.
the children become missiles -- screaming, giggling missiles -- and they are a pain in the ass until you realize how cool it must be to be on a train when you're that little, when you're still too young to know that you're about to crash into the fat russian man, who's shoved up against the hassidic lady, who's knocked the coffee cup held by the well-dressed, but brown shoed, ad sales guy, which nearly spills on the white coat of some other person i just made up.
you're jealous, because these little kids don't seem to care. they're on the closest thing to a roller coaster most of them have ever been on. and instead of being pissed, you're happy for them.
posted by quickstuff at 27.10.04
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home