Saugatucker overheard this on the loudspeaker on the 6:34 express to New Haven:

Conductor 1: You know how I like astronomy? You gotta see the moon coming up ahead. Dude, it’s like a pumpkin!
Conductor 2: Mark, you’re a werewolf.
Conductor 1: SOOOOUTH Norwalk is next.

[image: Saugatucker’s blackberry]

From November 6, 2007

Thanks to Little G, we end up spending a lot of time in Sodor—that is, the mythical island on which Thomas the Tank Engine and his train friends operate. All of the trains in Thomas’ world have unique personalities, whether it’s the narcissistic engine James or the perky young train Percy.  

That got us thinking—if Manhattan was Sodor, and vice versa, where would the Metro-North cast of characters fit in in Thomas’ little technicolor world? 

New Haven Line = Henry

Henry is a long train that “tends to be somewhat highly strung and prone to illness,” according to ThomasandFriends.com. The New Haven Line is highly strung as well–as in those arms extending to the electric catenary wires strung above the tracks. The most susceptible to foul weather of the three lines, New Haven is indeed prone to illness. Just ask any veteran rider of the line. 

The Harlem Line = Peter Sam

Peter Sam is “a happy and kind engine, but is a little vulnerable and often teased by the others.” Like Peter Sam, the Harlem Line suffers from a severe case of Middle Child Syndrome–not quite the doddering doofus that the New Haven Line is, not quite the beacon of efficiency that the Hudson Line is. 

MTA Board Member Mitchell Pally = Lady Hatt

Lady Hatt is Sir Topham Hatt’s wife and “a kind and gentile woman…who will also scold the engines when they act up or behave improperly.” Pally is the schoolmarm who wanted to do away with drinking on the trains.  

Slippery Rail Season = Lead Paint from China Used on Thomas Trains

Both lead paint and oily residue left on Metro North tracks force trains out of commission and leave their users gravely agitated.  

Finally, where, you ask, does our humble narrator, Thomas himself, fit into the equation? Thomas is described as a “cheeky, fussy little engine. He often gets into scrapes…but clouds never last long in Thomas’ world and he’s soon bustling about again.” 

Yes, that’d be you and me—the working stiffs shrugging off the floods and snowstorms and rude riders to turn up at our jobs in Sodor…er, Manhattan…each day.

From “M-J”:

I just found your site today.  I’m not a huge blogging fan, but I have to give you credit for grabbing my attention.  After just a day, I’m already addicted.  I have so many of my own stories from my former New Haven to GC commute (now I live in Manhattan and enjoy the simple A-Train commute).  Keep the good stories coming!  I have to get back to work, but I’ll drop you a line one of these days.
 

I don’t know if it’s all those delays, but the New Haven Line sure leads the league in passenger skirmishes.

ConnecticEnergy saw a beauty last night on the Stamford bound 8:0-something out of Grand Central. The train was full and the conductor made his announcement about making all seats available. Two men were sitting cattycorner in a four-seater. Another man approached, neatly attired in a decent but not ostentatious suit, and indicated his desire to take one of the two remaining seats in the four-top.

Of course, nobody likes That Guy. Ideally, it’s two people in the four-top (OK, in a perfect world, it’s one person in the four-top), because once that third person’s in there, two people have to sit face to face in a tight spot and have to wordlessly decide who gets to be the male and who gets to be the female. (If you’ve sat in a four-top with at least two others, you know exactly what that means.)

Well, the seated man, also in a suit, also around 45, was having none of it. He loudly told the standing man that both seats belonged to him.

The standoff ensues. The standing man will not back down. The other passengers pick up on it and start shouting encouragement to the standing man: Take the seat! Sit! Make him move!

Still, the seated man will not budge his legs.

“Have you ever ridden this train before?” asks the standing man.

The seated man suggests he get the conductor to mediate. The standing man says he’s happy to take it up with the man in blue upon his arrival.

More cries from the Greek chorus: Take the seat! Don’t back down!

“We all pay for a ticket,” the standing man says, then forces himself into the seat. 

The car breaks out in applause! The originally seated man hurriedly burrows through his bag for a book that will give him some cover. He and his hated seatmate don’t even bother enmeshing their knees together; they’ll simply rub patellas for the next 40 minutes to Stamford.

But wait, it’s not over. Some 30 seconds after the standing man won the battle and took his hard-earned repose, a small woman jumps on board and makes for the increasingly full four-top. She points to the one remaining seat and meekly says, “Can I sit there?”

The car full of passengers is silent, then bursts out laughing as the train makes for points north.

While we complain about Metro-North–oh, do we complain about Metro-North–we Harlem Liners do realize we have it pretty good, with Metro-North’s best on-time percentage of the three lines, and some creature comforts that New Haven Liners can only dream abou–at least until mid 2010.

One New Haven Line vet actually gave the Harlem Line a ride yesterday for a visit to Mt. Kisco, and shared her findings on the Larchmont/Mamaroneck community site The Loop.

Writes Loop-y editrix Polly Kreisman:

Now I know how the other half lives.

The train was almost spotless, the seats big and contoured and comfy. The middle seat actually fit the dimensions of an average adult. No pew style here with the sticky floor.

The a/c was working. The lights stayed on the entire trip. And it was eerily quiet. No conductors on the loud speakers yelling to each other;  the trip from Larchmont many mornings feels like communal  eavesdropping.

I never once had to stand up clutching my computer, jacket, blackberry and purse  to let someone “slip” into the middle seat.

And we sat. Really sat. No one had to stand. It was all very civilized. A sort of Eurail by way of Hawthorne.

Our Connecticut correspondent ConnecticEnergy boarded the 8:03 out of Stamford this morning, then squeezed into a four-seater across from none other than 60 Minutes correspondent Scott Pelley. Pelley, freshly back from Afghanistan to report on the state of the war, was apparently putting the finishing touches on the piece, which is to run Sunday–pecking away at a laptop.

Connectic struck up a convo with Pelley and congratulated him on a recent Emmy he was awarded. Connectic says Pelley could not have been more gracious and friendly while chatting with him and the people across the aisle–all that while in that smooth broadcaster baritone.

Last year, Page Six spied him on Metro-North, chatting with Ashleigh Banfield.

Besides elicting one of the most bizarre obit second paragraphs as I’ve seen in some time, the passing of famous writer Dominick Dunne earlier this week prompted an entertaining yard from Conductor Bobby, the New Haven Line staffer with a knack for spying–and approaching–celebs on board.

He writes:

I’ve seen the author Dominick Dunne on my train several times over the years. He is always very impeccably dressed and looks as if he is headed to a polo match or some swanky country club. I recognized him from his eyeglasses, which are horn-rimmed and round. They make him look oh so much like a senior member of the Harry Potter fan club.The first time I met Mr. Dunne was on the eve of the two-year anniversary of the Nicole Brown Simpson slayings. He had a garment bag slung over his shoulder when he got on the train in New Haven, which is about a 40 minute ride from his home in Old Lyme.

The two struck up a conversation about the O.J. trial, and Conductor Bobby apparently made enough of an impression on Dunne to worm his way into the roman a clef Dunne wrote about the trial.

The novel was Dunne’s thinly veiled memoir about his experiences at the O. J. trial and how he, somewhere along the way, lost the objectivity of a reporter and became emotionally involved in the case. The novel’s protagonist’s name is Gus Bailey.In the last chapter of the book, page 343 to be exact, gossip columnist Liz Smith asks Gus if he ever gets sick of discussing O. J.:

“I talk about him to Deb at the gas station when she puts gas in my car.

I talk about him to the train conductor on Metro North.”

With Metro-North ridership down 2.8% from the same point last year, the Journal News says the railroad is facing an unforeseen revenue shortage–on top of the $1.8 billion deficit it’s already staring at.

Its core customers thinned due to commuters being laid off, Metro-North has never seen such a protracted dip in ridership.

The paper reports:

Railroad spokeswoman Marjorie Anders said the railroad was seeing what is probably its worst stretch of lower ridership in its 26-year history.

It’s funny–as recently as February, Metro-North was volubly touting its record ridership last year, with a 4% increase. OK, maybe funny isn’t the right word.

And here’s the happiest little New Haven Line rider ever, the lagging line’s cantenary woes, five hour trips to Westport and other pratfalls be damned. New Rochelle-to-Grand Central (and back!) commuter/legal secretary Lillian Martinez tells the Journal News train service is downright near-perfect every damn day:

“In 18 years on Metro-North, maybe I’ve been late or held up five times,” she said.

Going to be commuting daily from stamford to nyc - catching something like the 6:40 train. i’m confused about the parking situation/costs in stamford and if anyone thinks it’s worthwhile to go to Greenwich or Old Greenwich for non-parking permit folks.
 
seems to be a bunch of garages in stamford.  was going to take a ride around the station this coming weekend?  any garage better than the other in terms of distance?
 
any other advice?  anyone that you could refer me to for advice?
 
Thanks!
Jeff

Conductor Bobby has a fascinating account of his new assignment as a Metro-North conductor–working on the Waterbury Branch, which appears to be full of homeless, fare-evaders, and “quick-turners”–the guys riding Bridgeport to score dope, then hopping back on the train to Waterbury.

That region of Connecticut used to be a bustling manufacturing base. Now it sounds like it’s beyond despondent.

Bobby writes:

A distraught woman boards the train in Seymour wreaking of booze. Her skin is pale white but her eyes are vibrant red and bloodshot. She tells me that her boyfriend just threw her out of the house and she needs to get to her sister’s place in Naugatuck. I say “no problem” and tell her that I can bill her for the fare. I hand her the billing pad book and she sits down. She begins sobbing uncontrollably, so much so, she can’t fill the billing form out. I take the pad from her shaking hands and I begin filling the form out. I ask for her name and address, but instead she gives me her life story.