The Train In Vain: Sharing Commuting Stories

We live in a world of sound bites. Twitter allows 140 characters per tweet. News channels have talking heads on all day long but who listens? You flip to the channel, you read the news crawler at the bottom of the page for a few seconds, and then you move on. Even Kim Kardashian only tweets one nude photo of herself per hour. Are 500-600 word essays about commuting life passé?

Who knows. I'm not a social media analyst. But in today's post, TTIV will serve the sound bite consumer community. We're going "Off The Rails" with a "Twitterized" series of thoughts.

Being first off the train and then first to the exit makes for a magical, victorious feeling.

There was a time I'd want to sit near a group of attractive young women. Today, the risk of noisy conversation during relaxation time is too high.

Sometimes, I envy the deaf.

If two people have a sign language conversation in the quiet car, are they violating the policy?

I adore kids but when I see them on the train, I go the other direction.

Were train car lavatory doors delivered broken straight from the factory?

Whatever happened to the bar car?

Who has right of way at the subway turnstile? He who enters or he who exits?

There is a horn atop the fire station in Hicksville and it blasts alerts to its volunteers. It stops my heart. You could hear it in a different time zone.

The Seventh Avenue side of Penn Station makes me think of Yogi Berra's quote. "Nobody goes there anymore. It's too crowded."

The Eighth Avenue side of Penn Station has much construction in progress. The progress fascinates me. It's like monitoring a home renovation I'm not paying for. Directly, anyway.

When I come home to find my car unvandalized at the Hicksville station, I consider it a win.

Can't the conductors be ready at the door controls when the train stops at a station? Why do passengers have to stand and wait? Are the conductors that busy?

I've never seen hotcakes sell like hotcakes. Not even at IHOP.

Lately, I've seen homeless people sleeping at Hicksville station. I thought the economy was improving.

Why is there duct tape on so many seats? Is there an epidemic of seats ripping due to sharp objects sticking out of commuters' pockets?

My appreciation for Twitter is growing, this is fun. See you next time... Off The Rails.