Ghosts on National Train Day

Last Saturday, after a disappointing afternoon running errands in Manhattan, we descended into the subway system at Times Square to head home, and stumbled on an antique subway train on the tracks. The three-car train represented three different moments in the city’s subterranean history, and was full to brimming with excited passengers waiting for the doors to close and the journey to Grand Central Terminal on the shuttle line to begin. E and I deliberated for a moment before deciding a trip onboard was worth a slight detour from our route, and jumped into the R10 model car.

 Saturday was National Train Day, and we had gone to Grand Central that morning hoping to see the “Parade of Trains,” a gathering of antique trains on some of the tracks in the station, including the 20^th Century Limited. When we got there, the line to see the trains was 2-3 hours long, and they reportedly had to cut the line early to ensure that people in line would be able to get in. The antique subway train on the shuttle line was part of the festivities, but not a well-publicized one.

These chance encounters with historical objects are successful because they are surprising. In a city with as many layers of history as New York, it’s easy to forget about everything that has happened on the spot where you stand before you got here. Every day I walk on streets and work in buildings and ride through tunnels that are many, many decades old, and yet most of the time I’m more focused on what I need to pick up for dinner than I am thinking about the human drama that has played out on this set. And then I see a subway car from another era in a station that I regularly pass through, and it jars me out of the mundane.

Riding on a train allows you to understand it, and how it works, much better than looking at pictures, reading about them, or even boarding a train as it stands still. The conductors on Saturday were focused on running the trains, and there wasn’t any additional interpretive layer. Still, riders learned things firsthand: without air conditioning, subways were hot; they were noisy, because the windows were usually open to try to generate a breeze; for the same reason, they smelled; and riders in the past had a much more intimate experience with the subway tunnels thanks to those open windows.

At the New York Transit Museum (one of my favorite museums in a city of wonderful museums), you can board any of the trains I rode on Saturday as they stand inert on the tracks of a disused subway station-turned-museum. It’s a fun and interesting way to spend an afternoon, but it sort of feels like visiting ghosts in a forgotten place. Trains come alive when they are in motion. True, without interpretive labels you didn’t have the benefit of knowing when the trains were in service, or particulars about their design, technology, and construction, but most of those facts are immediately forgotten by all but the most devoted of train enthusiasts.

The NYTM takes several opportunities throughout the year to roll its stock onto the active tracks of the subway system and delight MTA riders. I have boarded the holiday “nostalgia train” in December, letting modern trains pass me on the platform while I waited anxiously for it to arrive, brandishing my camera gleefully as I rode to Rockefeller Center for some classic NYC holiday fun. But then, I planned my trip, and I felt like I was in on the joke. I loved watching the reactions of people on the platform as this ghost clambered into the station and people boarded a train they may have recognized from their childhoods. On Saturday, I got to experience that surprise and delight along with many of the other people on board the train.

I didn’t get to see the assembled trains at Grand Central, but I still got to celebrate National Train Day, and it was a lot of fun.

Another Weekend, Another Abandoned Train Station

Friday, I took the train up to my hometown in Connecticut, where I explored a 100 year-old train station that is only open about 8 hours a week. Amtrak still stops there, but only a few people get on and off. Rumor has it that this station will be renovated soon, and some of its magic will undoubtedly disappear, but it’s better that it be updated and in use than left as is and abandoned. I remember occasionally driving people to or from this station as a child, and watching the big trains appear around the bend and then chug off into the distance always seemed so exciting to me. It still does, really.

Ready for Spring (Flowers)

Is there anything more wonderful than the first spring flowers on sale at the florist? I’m lucky enough to walk past a florist shop on my way home from the subway, and they usually have a pretty good selection of seasonal flowers on sale outside. The other day, I saw the first daffodils make an appearance in a bucket on the sidewalk, and I had to pick up a couple of bunches. At $2.50 a pop, it was definitely worth it for the splash of color and intoxicating scent of these harbingers of spring!

Growing up, my mom had daffodils planted in the garden, and it was always such a thrill when you saw their green shoots poking up through the dead grass and remnants of snow. It was a reassurance that winter was coming to a close, and that we’d all survived. This winter hasn’t exactly been brutal, but I am still reaching a point where I just want it to be spring. I want to go bare-legged and eat lunch on a park bench, and I want to feel the spring sun on my face and smell the warm humidity of April showers in the air. And I know it’s close. And I know I have nothing to complain about in this mild winter. But right at this moment, when today should be the last day of February? The leap day feels like an extra “eff you” from the universe.

But, hey, I woke up to some beautiful, fragrant flowers that remind me of my childhood and make the day seem a little sunnier. Almost there.

A Non-Apology for my Visits to Disney Theme Parks

A week before I left for my most recent trip to Disney World, one of my coworkers asked me, over lunch, “So, like, what do you do in Disney World? Like, do you just ride rides?” I can understand her confusion. I don’t have children, I don’t wear a Mickey Mouse fanny pack to work every day, and I do not show any signs of being a roller coaster enthusiast. In fact, we met up with my sister, brother-in-law, and 2 nephews in the Magic Kingdom, and my brother-in-law asked us what we did all day in a Disney theme park.

Well, personally, when I’m in a Disney theme park, I experience attractions, watch some shows, do some shopping, eat theme park food, enjoy the themed atmospheres, and spend time with loved ones. I’ve been going to Disney theme parks regularly since I was a kid, so the parks are imbued with the ghosts of past family vacations. In just about every “land,” I have memories of people I love and stories we tell over and over again. So, in that way, I am Disney’s target audience: a nostalgia junky. I cry at commercials, I think wistfully of the Epcot “nighttime spectacular,” Illuminations, every time I happen to catch the clock at 9 pm, and I love looking at old photos from our trips. For this reason, I am always excited to have more experiences with family, and bringing E along has been a particular joy. Each trip adds to the cache, and the fact that the parks are reassuringly little-changed between trips is part of what makes the parks comforting and keeps us coming back.

The other reason I enjoy visiting Disney theme parks is that I am fascinated by the development of attractions, themed areas, and the totality of the parks as immersive environments. I am a Disney enthusiast who is not so much interested in movies, animation, and characters as I am interested in the queues, backstories, and show buildings of the parks. Therefore, I love to read blogs about the histories hidden in the parks, immerse myself in books about the processes of designing a world in an attraction, and study the details that make places like Main Street, USA, so wonderful to visit. I wrote my Master’s thesis on the Magic Kingdom, to give you an idea of how far into nerddom I’ve ventured. So, my love for the parks is also an appreciation of the technical and artistic talent and skill that has gone into creating them, and that continues to evolve them. The basic core of the parks tends to stay roughly the same between visits, but it is constantly being changed, layered upon, and “plussed.” And that is what makes it interesting to keep going back.

This combination of comforting and interesting is there on a first visit, and grows over time. The Disney theme parks attract millions of visitors each year around the world to four resort complexes, with a fifth on the way. The Disney brand is known far and wide, and has contributed to sinister and benevolent causes. There is no question that the Walt Disney Company is a corporation, with corporate interests, not the least of which is making money off of saps like me. But, if I, as an intelligent, critically thinking adult, choose to visit the theme parks on occasion, and get enjoyment out of those trips, that is my own business. I find the cultural impact of Disney (and the pilgrimage to the Disney theme parks) to be fascinating, and for that reason I continue to learn about, discuss, and visit the Disney theme parks.

When I’m there? Well, I relax. I let other people take care of me. I feed ducks by the Magic Kingdom’s Crystal Palace, and people watch on benches in Epcot’s Future World while listening to the bouncy synthesizer background music. I wander through trails flanked by animal habitats in Animal Kingdom. I grab an orange from a fruit stand in the Hollywood That Never Was in Hollywood Studios. I ride rides. I watch shows. I nerd out. I end every night with a fireworks display. I have fun with my loved ones. And I allow myself to be inspired by the evidence of so much hard work and creativity come to life. I let the outside world fade away to a blur for a couple of days.

And once I get home, I am back to reading and learning and sharing, and thinking about the time — usually far in the future — when I’ll be back. I know the parks will be there when I’m ready.

The sky over Epcot, as seen from a very quiet courtyard in the Morocco pavilion.