Tag: #BTrain

  • That Song Triggers That Memory

    I went grocery shopping this morning. It is one of the rare moments in my week where I can listen to music uninterrupted. I take the subway down to the Trader Joe’s on 93rd, and there is a little bit of a walk. Early in the morning, after the kids are in school, and people have left for work, there aren’t many folks on the street, so I can jam out to my music; I can get it.

    And as I was riding the subway home with my bags, my playlist randomly gave me “Bye Bye Love,” by The Cars. I have heard this song since forever, and its hints of unrequited love made it such a wonderful juxtaposition of a song, contrasting with its upbeat rock tempo.

    Not sure why, but I added it to a playlist in mid 2018, and listened to it quite heavily. In September 2018, I was visiting a friend from college and her husband in a rather cool Brooklyn apartment that was in a walkup building, and they had access to a rooftop garden. That kind’a cool apartment, you know? We were drinking, a lot, and started playing a game of finding videos and concerts on YouTube of songs we loved. I picked “Bye Bye Love,” from a club concerts The Cars played in 1979. I liked it, but not sure if it played well in the room.

    But the memory of what I was feeling in that moment is still attached with that song. I felt lonely, because my wife and daughter were 3,000 miles away in California. I felt paralyzed as I was supposed to be packing up our apartment for our move to California, but I couldn’t get myself to do it. I was about to start rehearsals for what would be the last show I worked on, which had me excited to see my friends who I love and I am amazed by. And I couldn’t shake the feeling of doom, as my mother had cancer, and I knew she wouldn’t recover.

    My college friend lost her father when she was younger, and I knew if there was a friend who could understand what I was feeling, it would be her. And I think of her as one of my close friends, but I couldn’t talk about it. I just lied. I said it was looking better, and we have to believe in hope, and all that stuff. But I didn’t mean it. I said the thing I thought was expected. I didn’t tell the truth.

    I don’t hate listening to “Bye Bye Love,” or The Cars. Sometimes that memory and feeling doesn’t settle over me when I hear it. Some days, I’m okay when I think of my mother’s passing. And then one day, I hear a song, and it all comes back to me while on a B train, heading uptown.

  • I Met Tourists Today

    Normally, I grocery shop for the family on Wednesday, but this week, I thought I would move it up a day. For me to grocery shop is an event that takes up a couple of hours. I hit up the grocery store in our neighborhood, but there are some staples that are just cheaper at Trader Joe’s. The nearest one is at 93rd Street, which means a subway ride. Having been vaccinated since May, I have returned to using mass transit to run errands, so I have been venturing out of our neighborhood all Summer.

    Today went normal. I took the local train down to 96th Street, walked along Central Park West to 93rd, and then cut over to Columbus Ave. It wasn’t busy in the Trader Joe’s, so I was in and out in about thirty minutes. Totally normal. I walked back to the 96th subway station listening to music while carrying my bags.

    I go down into the station, swipe my card through the turnstile, and then I hear loudly, “Good Morning!” shouted at me by a middle-aged woman in a mask. Then she shouted it at me two more times; “Good Morning!”

    Now, as any New Yorker would do, when someone shouts at me, I ignore them. The second shout, I will look at you to make sure you aren’t about to attack me. The third shout will be the closer look, to check to see if you are crazy or maybe a normal person.

    When I checked to see if this woman was crazy, I saw that she was flanked by a middle-aged man, and two teenagers – a guy and a gal – all in masks. When I stopped to look at them, that’s when the teenagers said in a very thick Italian accent, “We are looking for Brooklyn Bridge.”

    And it hit me – They were tourists!

    I mean, I didn’t think foreign tourists were allowed in the country, but that notwithstanding, I fell into the old role of “New Yorker Giving Directions.” Not that there was much I could do. There isn’t a straight shot to the Brooklyn Bridge. My thought was to go to City Hall on the N R W line, but that meant a transfer at 34th, if you took the B from 96th. See, not easy, and not easy to explain to people who aren’t that familiar with English. Anyway, I got them on a downtown B, and I guess they will figure it out from there.

    New York is Back, Baby!

  • Riding the Subway Again

    I am fully vaccinated against Covid-19. I received my second Pfizer shot over two weeks ago, so I am cleared to not wear my mask when outside, and I can ride on mass transit, provided I still mask up.

    The subway is my big test. I have not used mass transit since March 2020, so it has been 14 months that I have stayed in my neighborhood to run errands by myself. When the wife is available, we use our car, but that means it has to be after work or on weekends. Though it works, it’s not always practical. For us to get back to “normal” I need to use the subway to run errands in the City.

    Yesterday, I rode the B train from 125th street to 96th so I could shop at the 93rd Street Trader Joe’s, and then back. This was my test day, and I know that it was a test that I would easily accomplish, so I guess it was more like re-experiencing normalcy.

    Standing on the platform at 125th, I put my headphones on, and listened to music, which I really hadn’t done outside of the home in a while. It was reassuring to hear the overhead announcements about the incoming train stopping on the local track. The smell from the tunnel as the wind rushes up when a train approaches; that twisting smell of tar, and exhaust, and a hint of garbage.

    When I boarded the train and sat, there were very few people around. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself for the short ride. I was listening to music, but I felt that I needed to do something. So, I pulled out my phone and played a game. I wanted to look around, but I felt that I should stay in my little bubble.

    I got out at 96th, and walked down Central Park West. It was reaffirming to listen to music, meandering down the street, and see people coming and going; kids and dog walkers, delivery and doormen, people strolling and self-involved.

    The shopping at Trader Joe’s was normal, or Covid normal. A short line out front, people keeping their distance in the store, and a very long checkout line. My groceries filled two double bagged paper bags, so a modest haul for my family of three, but it was also two heavy bags that I had to carry three blocks and an avenue.

    I was out of shape for that; carrying stuff any distance, and it really wasn’t that long of a distance. We had been doing big grocery shops with the car, so I had forgotten the rule of “You only buy what you can carry.” By the time I made it back to the 96th station, I began to feel the strain in my shoulders.

    I took another B train, uptown this time, and when I stepped on, I took a seat where someone had been sitting who had just gotten off. This was something that everybody does all the time on the subway, and as I sat down, I had the thought that maybe it’s not safe to sit where someone had just been sitting? Then I had to remind myself that I’m vaccinated, and you can’t get it from a surface.

    I departed the B at 125th Street, and when I stepped off the train a smell of fish hit me. I had forgotten that there is a spot on the uptown side of the platform that is right under a fresh seafood shop. It was a little reminder of the quirks at the station. It was a detail that was a fun reminder, but come the sticky heat of summer, it will no longer be so pleasant.

    I made it home, and the total time that the errand took, from leaving the apartment to returning to it, took one hour and thirty minutes. If memory serves, I used to be able to accomplish the task in one hour flat. So, I have something to work towards. Because, I will be doing this again; The riding and walking and carrying, but at some point, I won’t have a mask on, right? That’s the real return.