Was that Ethan Hawke on the 7:22 from Roselle Park this morning?

From Hawke’s really not-very-memorable ‘96 novel The Hottest State:

I loved trains. I loved anything that moved. I sat down on the neon-blue plastic seats of the New Jersey Transit train and let it carry me. My eyes burned from the white glare outside the window and from the withered contacts in my eyes. The meadowlands were dusted with ice. I could see the wind crossing the terrain, stirring up the snow into small tumbleweed shapes and then whisking up to the sky in twisted patterns of concentric circles. All I wanted was some rest.

I’d left Samantha’s and gone straight to Penn Station. The place was in chaos. There were hundreds of families waiting for trains, standing around with shopping bags heaped with presents. The floor was one ong puddle of filthy melting snow.

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OK, three thoughts regarding Hawke the Author.

1. Were the New Jersey Transit train seats ever really “neon-blue”?

2. Don’t quit your day job.

3. Grow a real beard.

4. Dude, what happened with Uma?

OK, that’s four.