Barefooting on the Subway

             More than a month ago I had been stumbling around the West Village for no real reason and when I came upon the IFC Center on 6th Avenue, I wanted to take a closer look at the schedule of movies being screened. In addition to the standard contemporary independent films and documentaries, the real value of the IFC Center is that they also screen alot of gems from the past. So when one might be regretful that they weren't alive when a certain great classic film came out, or just a movie they like in general, and they never experienced watching it on the big screen, the IFC Center makes that dream come true. There's a few other movie theaters in the city that do it as well, such as the Film Forum on West Houston and the Sunshine Theater on East Houston.

             When I looked at the schedule there was nothing that jumped at me at first, but then I saw a special midnight series every Friday and Saturday night throughout May and June that highlights the films of director Walter Hill. These films included the cult classic "The Warriors", Eddie Murphy's breakout in "48 Hours", but my eyes were drawn to a lesser known film of his called "Hard Times". The movie came out in 1975 and stars screen legends Charles Bronson and James Coburn. In the United Kingdom the title of the movie was switched to "The Streetfighter" to avoid conflict with the classic book by their beloved Charles Dickins that shared the same name. In no way is this movie an Academy Award winner or anything even close to it, but it certainly falls into the category of a movie I enjoy and I never had a chance to see a Charles Bronson movie a theater before. I had the two dates, which was a Friday and Saturday at midnight, in my head and had been looking forward to going for many weeks. A few days before the big release, my stomach decided to throw a curveball at me. I must have eaten something rotten or had a spell put on me because Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday nights my stomach was giving me alot of difficulty (that's about as far as descriptive as I'll get).

             Although my stomach was still bad and I was in a weaken condition on Friday, I purchased a ticket online ahead of time during the day for twelve bucks in hopes I would be good enough to travel into the city by night. The movie was also going to play the next night as well, but I had tickets for a concert that night, so it was either going to be Friday or nothing. When it came closer to decision time my stomach was feeling much better, but I wasn't in the best physical condition after not having any food or liquids in my system for a while. The smart choice would've been to stay home as the city at night can present many exciting adventures which require energy and running, but then again how many more times will "Hard Times" ever be shown in a movie theater? When veteran news anchorman Ted Koppel journeyed to Iran in 2008 to film the documentary "Iran: The Most Dangerous Nation", he encountered a small outdoor theater and the film being screened that day was no other than "Hard Times". I guess I could've always gone to Iran as well to try to track down this theater, but for some reason going to the IFC Center seemed much more convenient. So with an empty stomach and weak legs, I put on my sweater and headed for the subway.

             When I walked up the steps to the train station I noticed the hypodermic needle that was there earlier in the day had vanished. The ride down wasn't all that bad, I actually brought a book with me to keep my mind focused on something else besides my stomach. The only strenuous part was a transfer at 51st Street and Lexington which requires an escalator ride downstairs, a short walk in a hallway, an escalator going up, a longer walk, then a very long escalator downstairs. The next train came very quickly and I was at the West 4th station in no time. When popping out of the station, the IFC Center is literally in front of your eyes. I had arrived well ahead of time and strolled a little around the area to kill some time. It was a very foggy and cloudy night. From afar I could see the top floors of both the Empire State Building and newly constructed Freedom Tower both being engulfed by dark mushy clouds. Little drops of rain started to come down and a gusts of wind started to blow stuff all over the place. In fact, a promotion sign in front of the theater managed to take a noisy spill. It was still too early to go inside, so I just hung around on the block. The aroma of greasy hotdogs and cheeseburgers from Papaya Dog were tempting my stomach, which hadn't  received solid food in a couple of days, but I didn't want something to jeopardize my movie-going experience, or worse, the subway ride back home.

             The movie was being played in a reasonably-sized room with many seats, but apparently only myself and about fifteen other individuals had any interest in seeing "Hard Times" on this particular night. Luckily the film is only ninety-three minutes long, so I wasn't going to get out super late. When I did get out the rain had been pouring down steadily and I immediately ducked into the West 4th station next to the theater's entrance. There was another train held up there on the platform when I arrived, and the PA announcement said it was due to a police investigation. After about ten minutes the train finally took off, but then there was more police involvement. I saw four uniformed cops enter from one end of the platform with their gloves on, usually meaning they anticipate physically handling someone, and some Chinese lady started speaking to them. It seems the lady was pointing out someone on the other side of the platform that must have been causing problems or something. I couldn't make out exactly who or what she was referring to. As the cops made their slow march towards the other end of the platform, the lady took off and exited the station entirely. The cops first had words with some homeless-looking guy, but then they kept moving on, so it must have been someone else they were after. My train pulled into the station, and since it was really getting late, I couldn't stick around to see what the big mystery was. I peeked out the window as the train was pulling away, but it was going quite fast at that point and everything outside was a blur.

             Then a new mystery fell into my lap when we reached the Port Authority station; a girl got on the train, holding her shoes in her hands, and walking barefoot. She was in her late twenties, didn't look crazy or homeless or anything of that sort, just the odd fact she was walking around with no socks or shoes on. Plus the fact her feet were on perhaps one of the filthiest known surfaces on the entire planet, a NYC subway. I figured at first maybe it had to do something with the rain and her shoes were a certain material, but they appeared to be standard leather. Then I thought maybe one of her heels broke, but upon closer inspection they both looked intact to me. The heels weren't stilettos or anything that seemed uncomfortable, so I don't think it was a case that she needed to rest her ankles. She wasn't drunk, or at least didn't appear to be, so I couldn't pinpoint exactly why she was voluntarily doing this. A few stops later she got off and as she was walking away, I noticed the black tar developing under the soles of her feet, which indicated she might've been walking around like this for several hours.

               One should be very careful walking around subways without any shoes on, you never know when you might run into a hypodermic needle.....

CLICK HERE to be brought to YouTube to view "Hard Times" trailer

Making Abe Lincoln Proud

            For the past couple of months I've been toying with the idea of visiting the city of Dallas, so last week I got the itch to plunge forward and made all the arrangements. Although I was able to grind through thirty-hours on a greyhound bus on my trip to Green Bay, going to Dallas was probably going to require a third day hopping around bus stations, and that's a little too much, so I opted for Amtrak. The scheduled rail time was forty-hours with one transfer in Chicago, but riding on the train is much less a hassle than a cramped bus and the time doesn't go as slow.

            The amtrak takes a very similar route than greyhound in the manner which it goes to Chicago; up towards Buffalo, crosses into Ohio, then Indiana, then finally Illinois. We pulled out of New York's Penn Station and travelled along side the scenic route of the Hudson River. I had brought my laptop to write and watch movies on, plus had a book, so there was plenty for me to do to pass the time, but soon enough I felt sleepy and wanted to take a nap. The seat next to me was empty, but I knew that wasn't going to last to long, so I needed to take advantage of the comfort while it lasted. I started to doze off gently when an Indian guy sitting on the other side of the aisle from me had his cellphone sound off with Indian music sound tones. It happened a few more times, so he must have been texting with someone, but it would've been nice if he could've put it on vibrate. After a while I was able to get back into sleepy-mode and as I tried to close my eyes, a baby from all the way back in the car starts screaming loud. That lasted for a good fifteen minutes. When another sleep opportunity crossed my path, a lady got on with two of the most annoying kids anyone could imagine.

            The boy was about nine years old and the girl was probably about four, and to make matters worse the girl had some handheld educational toy in which the volume was on high. The machine would ask questions about spelling or sentence structure, then she had to select the right answer, but the whole thing was way too loud. In order for the two kids to be able to sit near eachother and the mom, this Chinese guy got relocated from his seat by the conductor. That whole process took about twenty minutes with the mom and kids figuring out where to put stuff, what snacks to take out, who was going to sit where, it was a real mess!! To make matters worse, someone started to listen to music with headphones on, but even with the headphones I was able to hear everything from five rows back. The kids kept bickering and fighting with eachother, and the mom was one of those mothers who thinks everything their kids do is cute, so she never had the sense to tell them to quiet down and be respectful to the other people in the car. With my nap dreams utterly crushed, I decided to take a walk to the snack car.

            I went through a few cars, but all I saw were passengers and the resturant car, no snack car. I asked the conductor and he informed me we were on an incomplete train, and were going to combine with another train in Albany that would contain a snack car. Before heading back to my ultra-quiet seating area I stopped off at the bathroom, and was impressed by the amtrak trademarked liquid hand soap. In one of the following stops a lady got on and took the seat next to me, so that little of comfort window opportunity was closed. The lady wasn't overweight or anything, so it wasn't terrible, but naturally its nice to have a whole section to yourself. When we made our way to Albany there was a hour break for the connecting train, so we were allowed to get off and walk around the station. I went to a newspaper stand to buy a granola bar, and as I went to hand over my money, I noticed a wallet laying on one of the candy racks. I handed it over to the person behind the register and walked back to the train. She claimed she'll hold it for whoever comes back asking for it, but maybe it was an early Christmas present for herself. As we pulled out of Albany I saw something I hadn't really seen all winter in New York, and that was snowfall.

            Around 8:30pm that night I was called in for my dinner reservation and they seated four of strangers at a table; the Indian ringtone guy, the Chinese guy who got bumped from his seat, some guy with sleeve tattoos, and lastly myself. With the four of us quietly looking at eachother, especially with the tattoo guy, I felt it was a prison cafeteria or something. The dining menu on amtrak is very limited and the food very plain, I went with the half-roasted chicken with rice. It wasn't nearly as terrible as I thought it would be, but it was still amtrak food. The train started to pick up speed and the rail turbulance as us banging into eachother and the stuff on the table shaking. The Chinese guy then started acting weird, the went to the bathroom a few times, perhaps to throw-up his food maybe. When it came time to go to sleep, the lovely kids were still as enjoyable as ever, so I was only able to get a few winks of shuteye at a time. The little girl was the worst, I don't think she gave up until 1am. I think it was only around midnight when the mother finally suggest she turn her toy thing down a little. Luckily the three of them, as well as the lady next to me, got off around 5am in Toledo, OH, so it was then that I was finally able to get some real sleep.

            The train was somewhere in Indiana when I woke up and I saw there was light snow covering the ground. They must really love their basketball in that state because every house has a hoop in the driveway or backyard. As I made my way to the resturant car again for breakfast, I saw that in between the train cars there was ice and snow that must have accumulated overnight. The breakfast turned out great actually as I ordered french toast with sausage. It came topped with powdered sugar and a side of strawberries. When it came time to leave the tip I was debating in my head whether to leave three dollars or only two, I went with two. When the waiter saw me put money down, he put out his hand to give me a big handshake. I never seen a waiter so happy getting a two-dollar tip before, he even offered me a free coffee to-go. Perhaps nobody tips amtrak waiters or something, maybe he was being sarcastic, I don't know, but whatever it is, as soon as he turned his back to get the coffee, I slipped in another dollar to make it three. As we entered Illinois and passed the numerous smoke-stacks and power plants, the Chinese guy started acting weird again. He kept getting up, and as he did, he would bang his knee against the seat in front of him each time. It must have happened at least three or four times.

            We grew closer and closer to Chicago, I started to see the skyline with the Sears Tower, plus we went by US Cellular Field which is where the Chicago White Sox play baseball. Once we got to Chicago's Union Station, I went outside for a few minutes to see the surrounding, but it was rather freezing, so I went back into the station. I had about three hours until my connecting train to Dallas was scheduled to leave. The bathroom seemed like a good idea to kill some time since the toilets on amtrak aren't the most appeasing in the world. There were two toilet bowl stalls, the Chinese guy again in my presense, took one, and the other stall had a mysterous old man inside with a very gruffy-smokey voice. Instead of doing what he had to do in there, he was taking phone calls on his cell. Unfortunately for him, he was telling people that doctors found an aneurysm near his heart and he needed to go to New York for more tests. People were lining up for the toilets and this guy and the Chinese guy were taking forever. Finally, the Chinese guy finished first and I was happy he won because I had no desire to see what was left of the other toilet. Most public restrooms have a toliet seat cover dispenser which you have to place manually. This one, was something new I never saw before. What you do is press a button and a length of plastic covering moves like a conveyer belt and does it all for you. It's a true work of genuis and whoever invited it deserves a Nobel Peace Prize or or Purple Heart or something like that.

            As everyone lined up at the gate to board for the train heading towards Dallas, a slight taste of anxiety hushed over the crowd as the monitor on the wall listed it as delayed. Good news though, the delay was only about ten minutes from departure. While we waited, this lady(I think it was a lady) came rushing in out of nowhere with two bulky bags that hit everyone and ran up towards the head of the line. She must have through she was late, when she was told it was only delayed, she came back towards the middle of the line where I was. One would think she should go to the end of the line, but she stayed in the middle and cut off a bunch of people. The reason I had confusion at first whether it was a woman or not, was he/she/it had a mustache. Once I got a closer look, I came to the conclusion it was a female. She was short, round, and was wearing very raggy clothes. In addition to being filthy, she also smelled real bad. I had to pull the top part of my sweater over my nose in a make-shift gas mask. She was about two places ahead of me on the line and there was no way I wanted to sit in her vincinity on the train, so as we walked towards the train, I let a few people ahead of me to make some distance between us both. When I reached the train's platform, I noticed something drop from one of the people in front of me, it was a wallet. The second wallet I picked up on this journey!!

            I had a feeling the wallet probably came from the stinky lady because she looked very disorganized the way she was carrying her bags and train ticket in her hand, but I had no desire to get within smelling distance ofher again, so I just handed the wallet over to a conductor. This train was slightly different from the one from New York to Chicago, or the one I took last year from New York to Miami. This one had double-decker style train cars with two floors each, and it also had a observation car with lounge chairs and huge windows for viewing. I was able to get a window seat again, and the seat next to me was filled as well by another lady, unfortunately she was a little on the big side, so I had doubts sleep that night would be very comfrotable. As the jumped into the seat next to me, she had a paranoid look on her face and was speaking real low. She had originally been sitting next to another guy, but he was talking loud on his cellphone before the train even pulled out of the station and it must have drove her nuts. Once we were off and running, I made my way over to the observatory car to check it out since I never seen one before. It seemed rather interesting, the only problem was there was a group of about five guys in there drinking alcohol and being extremely loud. Each time one of them would make a comment, the rest would laugh like a pack of hyenas.

            They were in their late twenties or very early thrities, plus it seemed one or more of them served in the military because they kept making these 'whu-ra' marine chants. Then they kept doing military chants about some airforce base or something. I don't think they all knew eachother because it seemed like some one them were introducing themselves as served in the navy. It was a real nutty group, one had tattoos all over, the other was dressed nicely with a tan Humphrey Bogart-style trench coat. The one with the tattoos stood out amongst the others, he was the loudest and most vulgar. He was Caucasian, while the rest of the guys seemed African-American or Hispanic, but he was saying alot of racist stuff. What made it surprising was there were African-American passengers as well in the observatory car, plus families with kids. He was also telling people he served in Iraq, got shot twice and stabbed once. They wouldn't quiet down for a second and the stuff that was coming out of this guys mouth was becoming unbearable, so I just left the car and returned to my regular seat. A short time later I heard the conductor being called over the loudspeaker to come downstairs, something in my gut told me it had to do with those rowdy guys. At this point were still in the State of Illinois, but things got really interesting when we pulled into the station of Springfield, Illinois, which became the hometown of President Abraham Lincoln.

             I looked out the window and I saw the leader of the rowdy pack, the racist marine, in his jacket that had a big American flag on the back. He was next to the conductor and from what I determined, it seemed like he was being kicked off. He was also stumbling in a drunkard state and each time he would try to walk back onto the car, the conductor would block his path. Then two police officers started to approach from behind and the conductor handed the problem off to them. After about thirty-seconds of talking, the marine raised one of his hands towards the cops and they immediately threw him to the floor, faced-down. As the train pulled out of the station he was being handcuffed and likely headed towards a night in the slammer. We all saw it from the window and there were 'oooohs' and 'aaaahs' coming from the audience. That was certainly the talk-of-the-town for the bulk of the remaining ride to Dallas. I went into the observatory car again to see what became of the rest of the group, and they were still there drinking and laughing about the incident, but the atmosphere wasn't as chaotic as before. Plus, it seemed as if maybe they weren't all together as they were making fun of the guy who got thrown off and were making references as if they just met him that day.

            My dinner that night was rather quiet, it turns out with was just me and this older gentleman by the name of Carter. He had grey hair and looked to be approaching seventy, but what threw me off was when he told me he had a son in the eigth-grade. At first I thought maybe grandchild, so I rephrased a question to him about it, but he answered as in a son. Since it was only us two for dinner, the chef took care of us himself. He actually looked like legendary boxer Joe Louis. When the first dinner roll he brough me was too hard to bite into, he came over with two more fresher ones and told me when he was my age, he used to eat like a horse. Of course now the chef has diabetes(I wonder why?). By the time it was to get to bed, there was still a buzz about the guy getting arrested. It seems one of the guys who was sitting in the group was with a wife, or girlfriend, and a small boy in a seat across the aisle from my location. Then in couple of rows ahead of us were these two ladies with heavy southern accents. The ladies wouldn't quiet down at all and kept ramling on about all subjects, the guy let his kid watch a movie on his iPhone, or some smartphone, loud with no earphones, and as I figured earlier in the day, the lady next to me wasn't making it comfortable for me to be able to fall asleep. Although I did discover an important fact, as the guy told the southern ladies, the mother of the little boy walked out on them when he was only three-months old and her excuse was she couldn't take it anymore. The lady next to me used her fur coat as a blanket and looked like she was being mauled by a leopard. The movie from the cellphone, the southern ladies and their lame jokes, and leopard lady taking up half the space of my seat, I had no choice to go to the observatory car to attempt sleep.

            The group was still in the car, but out cold sleeping and snoring loud, probably from all the liquor they consumed. I hardly slept at all that night, but I do recall waking up in the town of Texarkana, TX, which is noted for half of the town being in Texas and the other half still in Arkansas. The sunrise was quite interesting was the sky had a red glow to it which I never really seen before. The deeper we got into the Texas, the more I saw fields, farms, horses, and cattle. Once the group of guys started to wake up and chat amongst themselves, as well as the one who was seated near me, more of the story started to piece together about the guy who was kicked off. The conductor came over to them the night before to take statements because the guy made complaints to the police that we was put in a chokehold. I'm guessing what happened was he kept mouthing off in the observatory car as when I heard him, eventually either one of the guys in the group or the guy who was actually seated near me, had enough, and there was some type of physical altercation. Since the marine-guy was the loudest and most drunk looking, the conductor selected to kick him off. One of the southern ladies heard him say he wasn't a marine, only that he was in the national guard, so who knows what the deal was, I was just happy to be off that train when we finally reached the Dallas version of Union Station.

             Maybe the observatory car isn't such a great thing after all....