A plague of locusts, an alien landing, even your garden-variety meteor strike–these are all acceptable reasons for one of the nation’s busiest rail systems to suffer bible-scale delays.

 

But rain, even at the level we experienced Monday? I don’t get it. It’s as if the Founding Commuting Fathers figured a heavy cloud cover was as much of a weather risk as they were willing to take. A guy in a handlebar mustache and straw boater, looking out the window and then yelling to the yard, “Don’t bother firing up Engine Four, Percy. We’re already getting a sprinkling. Best not risk wet tracks.”

 

The commute on the LIRR started with a hint of promise, at lest for veteran riders of the 8:18 out of
Port Washington. The 8:08, the busiest morning train on my line, had been cancelled. Ours not only got a green light, but left on time.

 

Then we stopped somewhere past the Sunnyside train yards for a 45-minute view of the Citicorp tower in Long Island City. Quite a tower, indeed. But I would’ve had my fill in, oh, maybe 8 minutes.

 

Too much traffic going into Penn Station, we were told. Even with cancelled trains and lengthy delays? What, everyone decided to jump in their individual trains and chug into the city instead of driving?

 

I later learned, however, that we were fortunate to be thrown off schedule by a mere 45 minutes. Colleagues made it into work hours later than usual because their usual modes of transportation just stopped for awhile (in Jersey) or were lengthened to an Abu Ghraib level (from Staten Island; don’t they use boats in any case?).

 

Fortunately for the LIRR, the evening commute wasn’t bad. Beer suppliers had managed to deliver their usual supplies, and there were virtually no delays by the late evening.