This is actually an image of the Pu‘u ‘O‘o–Kupaianaha Eruption, Hawaii, 1983
On a day when the planet has seen fit to shut down thousands upon thousands of flights once again, here's a rant on a much smaller travel issue. Oh how self-important I can think I am.
Scene: Stratford CT Metro North railroad station
Dramatis personæ: 40 people, singles and groups
Rain is spitting fitfully, the temperature is struggling to break 50 and Ransom and I are waiting for the 10:10 to Grand Central. 10:15 still waiting. 10:22 a train finally approaches -- on the wrong track, the one heading back to New Haven! The public address system remains stubbornly silent. After a minute the engineer lowers his window to shout that his train is the Yankee Stadium special. People start to run to the stairs -- in Stratford the tracks sit on a small hill; the street is down a flight of stairs; to get to the other platform you have to go down the stairs, walk to the other side and then climb up again. The Yankee train waits a couple of minutes. Again, no announcement has been made, except to the five of us close enough to the engineer. People waiting toward the rear of the platform have no way of knowing what's going on. I tell as many people as I can and more and more people head toward the stairs.
And then the train leaves! The driver has a clear view of a bunch of people, a dozen at least, climbing the stairs to board the train. And he pulls out of the station! What the fuck?!
Ransom and I were not affected -- that was not our train -- except that we're now over 20 minutes late. Still, this is no way to run a railroad. Third world countries do a better job.
This is no way to run a country!
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