I had the divine pleasure of working from home yesterday, and with the 90 minutes of round-trip Metro-North time out of the equation, I was done–and, of course, home–at 5:30.

I took advantage of the bonus time by taking Little G to the playground over at Hummerville Elementary. He climbed the three steps up to the ramp he loves to run on, a 30-foot corridor on a slight incline that leads to a mad tangle of slides, tunnels and bars.

I was watching out of the corner of my eye when Little G suddenly dropped like a rock, parallel to the ground just before he slammed into the ramp. He jumped to his feet as I ran to him; he wore the WTF? mask just before his little face scrunched into prepare-to-wail mode.

As it turned out, some jackass–OK, more likely, some kid simply being a kid–had laid a branch about the size of a pool cue across the ramp’s handrails, about 2 1/2 feet from the ground. Caught up in the rapture that is those first couple steps on a playground, Little G hit the stick with his forehead at full speed, and even broke the thing in two.

I held Little G as he wailed, a small cut rising on his temple. Of course, he wanted Mommy, so we got in the stroller and headed for home.

I offered a little “special coal”– which seems to work for Thomas the Train’s boiler ache in one of Little G’s books, and often for Little G himself after he’s taken a tumble. The invisible offering helped a little.

There will be countless times when I’m at a loss to explain life’s small injustices to Little G (and, down the road, Big G) after he’s been stung by one.

This was but the first.

Well, it’s been almost two weeks since I sent a letter to Metro-North to inform them that my Gap chinos were torn by one of their armrests, and wouldn’t you know it, I got a call back from the railroad’s claims department this afternoon.

I couldn’t quite make out the woman’s name, but it sounded like “Pommell.” Pommell had a pleasant disposition as we discussed my now-worthless pants. She asked me what I thought Gap chinos sold for new, and I told her about $40. Pommell said she’d been to the Gap website and figured they were closer to $34.99.

Obviously I was in for a tussle.

She told me to send a receipt, and I told her the pants were probably 10 years old, and the receipt was surely sitting on the bottom of some Staten Island landfill. Pommell thought about this for a bit, then said my poor trousers had “practically no value.”

It hurt a little.

She then added that, if I were to send a digital picture of the tear along with a copy of my monthly commuter pass, she’d issue suitable payment.

“For something this old with no receipt,” she said, “we can extend you a…$15 offer.”

I actually thought that was really fair for a pair of pants that were, so to speak, on their last legs.

And this made my day. As Pommell and I bid farewell, she added, “I apologize for the inconvenience.”

My faith in Metro-North’s customer service was thusly restored. This almost made up for the railroad hiking up booze prices.

I’d heard Metro-North reimburses the poor suckers who’ve had their pants ripped on those ill-tempered M7 armrests, so I figured I’d look into it.

Mind you, as I mentioned, it’s a 10-year-old pair of chinos–hardly my good suit or even my pretty good suit.

I called the general information number on the MTA Website and things start off encouragingly enough. A cheery woman with an accent answered and I told her what happened.

“Uh oh, so sorry,” she said, with an actual note of sincerity to her tone. “I hope it didn’t expose you too much!”

It’s actually not a bad line, all things considered.

She then connected me to community relations. “Jeff” heard my sad tale and asked a few perfunctory questions: Was it an M7 car? Was it the armrest? He told me Metro-North was looking into redesigning the cars for that reason, and then gave me the number for the claims department.

On I went to the claims department, where a lady told me I had to send a letter to a claims agent, along with a note from my tailor saying how much the damage set me back. I told her the pants were old and probably weren’t worth tailoring, and asked if that meant I was out of luck. She said to put it all in the letter to the claims agent, a gentleman named Dean LoGiudice, and then someone would get back to me in 2-3 weeks.

So, after three phone calls–one cheerful, two indifferent–I have to put pen to paper and describe my situation, whereupon Mr. LoGiudice will decide if I’m worthy of compensation for my humiliation (OK, it wasn’t really that bad) on the 8:16 this morning.

I’ll let you know what happens with the letter.

[image: NY Times]

Peter Cannito, the longest tenured president in Metro-North history, will retire in July. Cannito came on board, so to speak, in June 1999. His claims to fame include “record-setting on-time performance”, a 60% reduction in employee injuries since 2000, pushing for the new Yankee Stadium station next year, and a 93% customer satisfaction rate.

“I prepare to leave this railroad knowing that Metro-North’s employees will continue to raise the standards of excellence,” he said, “both as it relates to what our customers have come to expect of us and what the employees have come to expect of themselves.” 

MTA CEO Elliot Sander thanked “Pete” for his hard work over the years and said “MTA will begin a nationwide search to identify the next Metro-North President knowing that he or she will have very big shoes to fill.” 

Cannito, by the way, prefers size-13 loafers in a triple-wide.

Connecticut governor Jodi Rell showed off the new exterior as well as some interior aspects for the M-8 cars that will be introduced on the New Haven Line late in 2009. Between reader surveys and focus groups, more interior features will be ironed out before the cars go into production.

Rell says the car’s attributes include:

Also on hand was Metro-North president Peter Cannitto, who reveals that he spends a lot of time dreaming about new Metro-North cars. “Seeing a mock-up of the M-8 car has shown us that the dream of a new commuter rail car on the New Haven line is becoming a reality,” he said. “Although we are still more than a year away from seeing the prototype cars in operation in this country, the dream of improved service for our New Haven Line customers in New York and Connecticut is also one step closer to reality, too.”  

A man boards the 8:28 at White Plains. He’s tall and heavy-set, and looks like he played high school football 40 years before. He’s got white hair, glasses, a large suitcase, light blue jeans that look scarily close to Toughskins that his wife bought for him at Caldor. (Two Toughskins mentions on Trainjotting in the past few days. You’d think they were advertising here or something.)

He’s quiet for the first 10 minutes, though I feel him looking around, searching for an opportunity to make his presence felt.

As we near Bronkers, he can’t contain himself any longer. He makes eye contact with a guy a few rows up and across the aisle who’s facing him.

“Duz thee-is trayyn go ex-pray-is to Grand Central?”

“Yup,” comes the response. “125th then Grand Central.”

“Wow,” the guy responds. (I’m going to stop writing in phonetics cuz it’s hard to do.) “That’s a lot of ground to cover.”

The guy up and over nods, smiles and goes back to his book.

But the big fella continues.

“My first time on the Metro-North,” he says. “I’m just a country boy.”

The up and over guy nods, this time without the smile.

“Sure covers a lot of ground,” he continues. “Expensive too. I was in L.A. recently, paid $1.50 to ride 50 miles.”

“Bet you were still in L.A. when you got off,” comes a response from another guy across the aisle.

Then it’s quiet for a few minutes, but the big fella isn’t content reading his Google Maps printout.

“You sure are reading that book fast,” he says to the second guy he’d spoken to. “Are you really comprehending it all?”

“Probably not,” the guy says with a laugh. “But if I’m not comprehending it, I’ll probably never know.” It was some sort of joke, the best you’ll do on a Monday morning train.

The Metro-North virgin is smashing every commuter rule he can: Talking to strangers, especially those not right next to him. Talking to a guy who has to turn around to respond. Talking to a guy who’s clearly immersed in his reading. The only way it would be more of a transgression would be if the big hayseed was chatting up a guy in headphones.

The man then starts asking about getting a bus to LaGuardia, and the first man he spoke to tells him there’s a bus at 125th [Editor’s Note: Freudian Slip of the day–I typed “buzz” instead of “bus.”]. They dissect the finer points of bus transportation, LaGuardia and 125th until we arrive in Harlem. The first guy was getting off, and said he’d show the big hayseed where to go.

As they exited the train, Big Country continued to pepper the poor commuter with inane questions.  

One thing I like about the snow is the footsteps I see as I walk to the train.

I live in a neighborhood where no one walks unless the doctor demands it of them. My house is a very doable, at least by my book, 15 minute walk to the train (13 if you’re really chugging), but no one does it. Mind you, most people around me don’t commute to the city, but those that do for the most part do not walk. (A pair of large hills figures into their decision as well.)

So as seemingly the lone walker in the neighborhood, I sometimes feel a bit self-conscious. As the giant SUVs roar by, I can read the drivers’ minds: Is he serving out a DWI? Did he never learn to drive? Is he on the prowl for young children?

But when it snows, I see the footsteps of those who’ve walked before me. I spied two pairs in the snow this morning (by the way, great snow for pedestrians–light, fluffy, pretty). When the footsteps hit Elwood, and one of the few sidewalks in the area, one set opted for the sidewalk and the several inches of snow on it, and the other for the paved street. I took the latter.

I’d left myself 21 minutes to get to the train, and only needed about 18. That artless pirhouette I did on the ice on the Sprain overpass notwithstanding (how the hell did I knot fall?), it was a really enjoyable walk.

Once again, Dolores L. had failed to deliver my newspapers, so I stopped into the Station Deli to grab a Times.

“What time do you think the 8:16 will pull in?” I asked the counter guy.

“It’s actually been pretty close to on time today,” he said, while another guy chirped in, “8:30!”.

Sure enough, the 8:16 rolled in at 8:16, and we were on our way, pulling into GCT right on time. Well done, Metro-North.

Another thing I like about snow days such as this is not only hearing the commuter survival stories at work, but seeing the outfits most coworkers seem to sport on such days. They’re what our mothers once called “play clothes” decades before–jeans, ginormous boots, flannels preferred by ’90s Seattle grungers and bicurious New England coeds.

It’s especially fun to see the sales guys leave the suit at home for the day and traipse about looking a bit out of sorts in their Toughskins and Timberlands.

Metro-North left some handbills behind for riders last night explaining the fare hikes that arrive March 1. “The vast majority of monthly and weekly commuter rail tickets will increase between 3.76% and 4.25%,” reads the “New Fares” flier.

(Am I the only one that thinks that the fare hikes would be less if Metro-North didn’t have to pay cleaners to scoop up all the New Fares fliers?)

Furthermore, “Ticket prices for one-way, round-trip and ten-trip travel between other stations will increase up to 7.7%.”

The one winner in all of this is Connecticut riders, as the rate hike only applies to New York stations. As if those super-low property taxes weren’t enough of an enticement ot move to the Nutmeg State.

Sneaking up like an on-time 8:20 morning train into Valhalla, the Harlem line was the winner in Metro-North’s 2007 annual customer satisfaction survey. Fully 99% of Harlem line customers reported they were “satisfied” with service, two ahead of the Hudson Line.

What’s surprising is that the Hudson Line, with its scenic river views and longtime stranglehold on the on-time percentage crown, trailed the Harlem Line.

No great surprise over at the New Haven Line, as 88% of those Mamaroneck/Rye/Greenwich types voiced their satisfaction.

All told, the railroad posted a 93% satisfaction level, which Metro-North called a record. President Peter Cannito said the scores reflected customer satisfaction “from the track to the parking lot to the station, on-board the trains and at Grand Central.”

Offered the choices of “not satisfied,” “satisfied” and “very satisfied,” 46% ticked off very satisfied. Furthermore, 88% said the service was the same or better than a year ago.

That’s a bit surprising as well, because according to Metro-North’s own figures, its on-time performance was actually substantially off in 2007. Overall, the railroad was on time 98.2% of the time in ‘06 (”on-time” of course meaning within 6 minutes of when it’s supposed to arrive), compared to 97.8% this year. Most lacking of the three lines was, strangely, this year’s top performer in terms of satisfaction. The Harlem line was on time 97.9% of the time in 2007, down from 99.2% in 2006.

Which I guess means Harlem Line riders are simply a lot happier than they were a year ago.

I don’t have a doorlight.

Get it yet?

No, Dennis.

Uh, let me try.

Something…uh, that didn’t work.

bzzz….click

Ladies and gentlemen…

We don’t have a doorlight. We’ll get someone to look at it outside.

bzzz…click.

I got a doorlight now.

Hold on!

Just wanna let you know, I got a doorlight now.

I think we’re good now, Kev.

OK, can we go?

Yessir!