Interesting Insights on Train Travel

I am spending a few days...well more than a few days, at a conference center located just west of Baltimore, Maryland.  Now, I could have gassed up the little Ford Fiesta and jumped onto Interstate 95 and sailed on down there in about four hours.  However, if anyone of you has ever travelled on Interstate 95, you are fully aware that if nothing goes awry, the trip is a breeze.  However, if there is even the slightest glitch in the journey: a back up on the New Jersey Turnpike, an accident on the Delaware Memorial Bridge, a jack-knifed tractor trailer on the Maryland road, any of these will have an adverse affect on your ability to get to your final destination with your sanity intact.  My rule of thumb for driving on Interstate 95 is that there will always be a problem, so either be prepared, or find an alternate means of transport.


I did just that for this journey.


This is the third year I am attending a gathering of deacons from across the nation and Canada for a meeting at the Maritime Center for Technology in Linthicum, Maryland.  I currently sit on the Board of Directors of the Association for Episcopal Deacons, and we have an annual face-to-face meeting and, luckily for me, the past three have been in this lovely facility outside of Baltimore.  This is a training place for mariners and they have several graduate and undergraduate programs for the men and a growing number of women who are involved in the merchant marines and other seafaring occupations.  This place has great technology related to the navigation and upkeep of various types of sea going vessels.  It also has great meeting space, and the food is pretty good. 


Now, I could drive or even fly, but I chose to take the train.  I have begun to value the ability to travel by train between several cities along the east coast and have used Amtrak and others to go to and from Boston, Philadelphia, Williamsburg, Washington and Baltimore.  The trains are basically clean, mostly quiet, and the Metropark station in nearby Iselin, New Jersey with its convenient long term parking at $8.00 a day, makes it an attractive and affordable mode of transit.  I like the convenience of getting my tickets online, and the fact that I am able to travel "off peak" and am of certain age, makes the ticket even more affordable.  Once or twice I have opted for business or "quite" class, but I have found that as long as I am not travelling during the "rush" hours, I can pretty much anticipate a relatively quiet journey.


I have also traveled by rail in Europe, specifically in England and Germany, and found it a pleasant experience.  One trick is, of course, to limit what you are carrying with you: limit any luggage to a small roller type carry-on size with a shoulder bag to carry the important stuff. Traveling light is the key to travel success anywhere.


Study the routes and places you are intending to visit.  Sometimes Amtrak will have "special fares" and if you are planning to go there anyway, you can take advantage of them. 


The thing I like most about training it is that you arrive in the middle of the city you are visiting.  No worry about paying an exorbitant fee to taxi it into the city itself. 


So, don't dismiss taking a train to get to a nearby destination, you will arrive less frazzled and calmer than if you had driven from your home to your hotel.

Go online.....

I think I have experienced being a victim of the dumbing down of America, and it was not pretty.


A few weeks ago I received a letter indicating my condo would be hiring a new management company after a disastrous year with the original one.  The old company did not have much time working on Staten Island and was primarily working with buildings in Queens, Brooklyn New Jersey and Maryland...yes, Maryland.  Complaints fell on deaf ears; problems mounted; tempers flared, and the board decided to part ways with the present management company and search for another.


Now, I did not have a problem with any of this. I was recently elected to the board myself and will be meeting with the new company in two weeks.  My problems began about three weeks ago when I began to figure out how to end the electronic funds transfer from my bank to the old company and establish an automatic payment plan with the new company.  Should be easy, right? Wrong....dead wrong.


First thing I did was to speak to the current board members who assured me that this would NOT be a problem, and suggested I call the new management company.  Which I did.  I had a lovely conversation with the new property manager; he suggested I talk to my bank...which seemed logical, so I decided to do just that the next day.


The bank service guy turned out to be a former student of mine...nice kid.  He was attentative in looking up my account online.  I pointed out the entry that sent funds through the cyber-space from my account in the "cloud" on Staten Island to the management company's "cloud" in Manhattan.  Unfortunately, I could not cancel the payment from the bank.  I had signed up through the management company and had to go through them.  So the next part of my quest began.


I called the management company's Brooklyn office; they had sent me a notice about owning me $.40 in overpayment charges.  I called at 4:30pm on a Friday and was told, by a recording, that the office closed at 5:30 on Friday...I was early, but obviously too late to actually talk to a real live person, so I innocently left a voice mail knowing they would return my call.  Oh, to be so naïve!!


Three days later, I called again.  This time I got the receptionist who was there by herself at 9:30 am.  She directed my call to the property manager who directed me to email her.  I left a message and emailed her.  The next three days I did the same thing: I left her a message and emailed her.  I never heard from her.  I then called the Manhattan office, who said I should go online and leave a message for the same woman who was not returning my calls.  I than called the Staten Island office and was put on hold, given an other email address and directed to the same person's voice mail...voice mail that she did not listen to , or if she did, did not reply to.  I then called the Brooklyn office again and was directed to a guy in Maryland who informed me that he did not handle any property remotely near Staten Island.


I called the new agent, who, guess what, gave me the old agents email address and voicemail number...Oh, did I mention I had called her  at least five times and left at least five message?  Everyone to whom I spoke had a canned repertoire that included" I am so sorry you are being inconvenienced...", but offered no other information than "...you can get that information from the website."...No you can't.  Especially if you don't give me the website, which happened three times,  or if you directed me to the wrong website...that happened twice.


One gentleman who told me proudly that he had been a Wall Street banker when talking about the two management companies," You have to tell them that they are the one, or maybe they are the other one." I thought I was in the middle of an Abbott and Costello routine. I had to ask him four times who was "they" and who was "them".  He wasn't sure; I thanked him and hung up the phone shaking my head.  How have we produced a population of people who cannot explain a process that makes sense to people who do not know the particular jargon of their work environment?


I finally got into my car and drove to the office of the original management company.  They keep telling me I had to make the bank stop payment.  I asked the receptionist, "Are you a banker?".  She told me she wasn't she just thought I should do that.  The other woman at the desk told me,"We can't help you.  We are not in charge.".....Okay...who, I wondered, was in charge?  I came home and signed into the website they gave me.  I hit contact us and finally got a phone number. No one answered.  I called the Manhattan office again and got the office manager; she transferred a nearly ranting me to her boss.  She actually walked me through the process in less than five minutes.


So my question is why I had to take three weeks and at least ten hours worth of time to get the correct information?  Because I finally got someone on the phone who was able to logically think through the problem as I described it; she asked pointed questions and knew how the internal system worked.  I was not dismissed, and was treated humanly.


Most of the other people I was dealing with seemed angry with me when they realized they did not know what steps I had to take.  They were not able to deduce the next steps from what I had done in the past.  They keep repeating over and over again prewritten canned directions that clearly did not work in my situation.  Many were confused when the information put into their computers did not compute. 


So one more time: The solution is often not to "go online...." Sometimes it is use your noggin!

Going to the dogs...

What is going on with people and their dogs?

Growing up in Brooklyn, it seemed everyone had a dog.  In my household we had Muggsey, a scrappy terrier mix who loved ketchup on anything and a slurp of beer or two on a hot summer's day.  He palled around with Casey, a lovable Irish Setter owned by our next door neighbors, Fran and Frank.  These two compatible canines would run up and down the driveway chasing each other around until Muggsey, the more agile of the two, would jump quickly over the fence that separated the vegetable garden from the rest of the yard.  Casey, bless his heart, could not figure out how to get over the fence, and he would look over it with a mournful expression until his more agile pet pal dained to jump over it again and continue the dog run fun going until they were exhausted.

My Connecticut cousins always had dogs of one type or another.  I particularly remember Amber, a lovable cuddly clump of golden yellow fur who looked after everyone at the car dealership owned by my cousins.  And the Jersey side of the family are well represented by a series of dogs from Whippets to Bull Dogs ( affectionately known as  Marty and Feldman) who entertained us all during our Thanksgiving dinners, being so patient with my grandson, Ian, who was delighted to find a pet in his size range.

My late husband's immediate family were cat people, but others had dogs that were memorable in their own right.  Bates belonged to Aunt Eleanor.  When I met him he was quite old and toothless. It seems he had all of his teeth removed by his vet; no, I don't remember why, but am sure someone out there will tell me.  His long, flat dog tongue hung out the side of his mouth like a wet, limp leather bookmark. His food had to be specially prepared, and he was looked over ferociously by a younger female dog named Jenny.

Jenny was relentless.  If she loved you, she loved you unconditionally.  If she did not, you knew it right away. When first we met I was not on her "A" list. It wasn't until I was actually married into the family that she finally accepted...rather tolerated my presence, but she was crazy for my husband.

My children had a dog, Buster, who we adopted from a school colleague of mine.  Buster had a gentle manner, and he adored Tara.  He would sit and put his head in her lap.  We were all sad when his health began to fail, and we had to "put him to sleep".

Now all of the dogs I have known have been dearly loved and carefully cared for by their owners.  But, I must say, that recent pet events have me scratching my head about the motives of owners.

A tattoo artist(?) in Brooklyn tattooed his wife's initials and a heart onto his sedated dog who had undergone surgery.  the artist(?) was soon sacked by his employer, a local tattoo parlor after said artist(?) bragged about his exploits on Facebook with a photo of said "uber-cool"  tattooed pooch.  Wouldn't you think that is animal cruelty?

This morning while at the gym, I got to watch the Queen Latifa Show...I don't make the channel choice; that is up to management.  In one segment today there was a women who does competitive dog grooming.  Not sure what that would look like?  Take a gander here:

What in the name of all that is good would possess anyone to do this to an animal?  Am I the only person in America who thinks this is just crazy?  I hope not.

Ashes to Ashes

Last Wednesday was the day Christians in the Western Tradition know as "Ash Wednesday".  A day when we are reminded of our own fragility and mortality: "Remember, man that thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return." As a cross of black ash created from the burnt destruction of the palms so lovingly saved from the Palm Sunday of the previous year will be drawn on the forehead, and we once again gather the formerly green and subtle, now tried, brittle and cracking palms, and watch as they are burned into dusty ash the night before at the Shrove Tuesday pancake supper as the children gathere around, at a safe distance, of course, from the "bonfire" of these year old palms writhing in the hot flames of the contained fire. It is always interesting to watch the faces of those who gather around this flame: the young are mesmerized, and their parents are watching over the children; older members have a rather melancholy look as if they are remembering the Lent in times past, perhaps in their own childhood when the burning palms held such fascination. Or are they remembering when family, friends and lovers long gone were here to share in the yearly time of repentance and rebirth? 

At the Ferry

The next morning we took some ashes to a rather public place for distribution in addition to the two services at our church.  This was our second year at the Staten Island Ferry Terminal in St. George on the Staten Island side of the boat.  Most of the folks rushing onto the waiting ferries were commuters dashing off to work or students commuting to high schools and colleges on the other side of the bay.

Business men and women, terminal and other transit workers, construction workers , TSA employees with their dogs in tow, all lined up with the others getting their ashes on the go.


"Remember, man that thou art dust..." Those words repeated again and again: for woman and man, for young and old, for sinner and saint, for mother and child.  A reminder that we are but here for a finite amount of time, and that time is "...slip, sliding away" (Thank you, Paul Simon).

And then a reminder about the fragility of life on the next day.  A funeral for a friend, gone too soon of a heart attack at 56.  He leaves behind an adoring wife and three sons on the brink of manhood.  He leaves behind a dream unfulfilled. Having been downsized with the down turn of the financial markets, he realized while volunteering with hungry people, that he had a gift for helping and was "this close" to completing his degree in Social Work...so vey close.  A life cut short, but a life well lived, nonetheless.

And a wake for the grandmother of several young adults, and the mother of a recently retired couple....a mother who at times distanced herself from members of her family who wondered why.  She lived through a time of discrimination when her accent marked her as different. After her death, her family gathers to mourn with different and varied memories of the woman.  A long life lived, to what end?




It is still the same: dust to dust.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tH2w6Oxx0kQ

Things NOT to do on a cruiseship

NCL Breakaway

Having just returned from a seven day cruise to the Bahamas on the NCL Breakaway, I have several heart-felt suggestions for fellow passengers.  So, listen up, all you future cruisers, you might just learn something very valuable.

1. Please LISTEN to the person making announcements about when your group will board the ship.  They usually create groups of twenty five or so to make boarding easier. Please also understand that folks with limited mobility will be allowed to board first.  Wait your turn!  The ship will not leave without you if everything you have is in order.

2. Yes, even the kids need a passport.  That is the way it is.  You should have read that in the literature you received prior to departure.    






3. Carry a pen...it will come in handy.







4. If someone enters the elevator who has a cane or a walker, please move out of their way.  Do not block their entrance by refusing to move back.  You will look like an impolite imbecile if you do.  There were at least four on my cruise.




5. Please do not allow your children or grandchildren to push every button in aforementioned elevator.  That is one sure way to loose friends.




6. Do not yell at the wait staff.  They are working hard to make the cruise enjoyable for all.  Your yelling at them will only guarantee you mediocre service...which you deserve.

7. Ladies and gentlemen, it is important to look in the mirror before you leave the ship.  If you wouldn't wear it at home, don't wear it on vacation.

8. Please sanitize your hands when you return to the ship or before going into the dining room.  This is a protection for us all.




9. Lower your voice in the dining room.  I have noticed men of a certain age (mostly older gentlemen with undiagnosed hearing issues) whose loud voices carry far across the room.  Unfortunately for the rest of us, their conversations are usually nonsensical and full of self bravado.




10. My personal pet peeve: If you know the answer to the trivia question, whether you are a player, casual viewer or passerby, DON'T call out the answer. Sometimes you are right, but more times you are not. So zip it up, buddy!