Cent Aware
I guess it’s been off my numismatic radar, but a few days ago I ended up with two shiny pennies with new reverse sides (the obverse side is the same it’s been since 1909). Using as an excuse the 200th anniversary of Lincoln’s birth, they have create four new images to put on the reverse. Look for them in a pocket near you.
This all leads me to wonder how much longer the penny will endure.
June 19 Sunset Limited
They assigned me to seat 41 before I boarded the train. So, naturally, when I got on, there wasn’t one.
Once he came to mark our seats, he fixed where he wanted us. We were underway on time just before noon, and though I was quite hungry, the earliest reservation was at 2:00 by the time it got to our car.
I was seated with two older guys. Both hard of hearing, and one nearly blind. Minimal conversation entailed because it required me to yell. A young guy visiting a friend for his first time in Houston was seated to me after we had already been served. He spent much of the meal texting, and indeed every time I saw him on the train after that he was texting away.
Later in the evening after we had passed over the Sabine river into Texas I sat for a while in the observation car. When we were passing through Dayton, there were about four other tracks next to us, and a line of shrubs and fence hemmed them in. Three small calfs were running along the other tracks, obviously spooked by our passing.
When we got close to town, there was an obvious 50′ hill on the north side of the tracks. I’m assuming it was a landfill from the looks of it. In the flat coastal area, it stuck out quite obviously.
We pulled into Houston almost an hour early, the sun was setting on the skyscrapers and looked quite nice. I was out of change, and there was a long line of confused people in line to the incompetently slow station attendants. I didn’t think I had a chance of getting change easily. I called my mother collect. She was planning on picking me up, but not for a while.
She commented that I looked like a homeless person with my shaggy hair and travel beard. A brief ride, and I was home. Still several days later I’m still settling in, but I will only have a few days until I’m on a place to Reston, Virginia for over a week.
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June 18 New Orleans
I got inside the station, the first stop on the trip where I had no real plans. I called two hostels I had found online with cheap private rooms. One was full, the other had been closed “for several years” (Katrina time frame?). There was one listed on the ad board, but they didn’t take calls between noon and 5:00p. I didn’t care to wait till 5, so I called the Holiday Inn down the street from the station and got a place there.
Prior to getting the room just down the street, I had preemptivly checked my baggage for the following day’s trip. Not the best idea, but I didn’t care to try to go “uncheck it”, and I wanted to walk to the hotel anyway. I got quite sweaty walking eight blocks in characteristically warm New Orleans.
I bathed, watched a little TV, and decided my slight scratchy throat was enough to keep me in from an adventurous night. I ate downstairs. The seafood gumbo was fabulous, the shrimp creole was mediocre.
I was in bed by 10:00p, hoping to wake early for a walk, but being awake from 2:30a - 5:00a, likely from my sporatic napping, nixed that idea. I did finally rise by 9:00a. Without a change of clothes and only two hours to kill I didn’t want to hike about town getting sweatty.
I checked out and cabbed the short distance to the station. He made sure to charge me the minimum of $10 for people with luggage even though he didn’t need to carry my small bags.
If I hadn’t been to New Orleans over a dozen times, I would have felt bad for not venturing out. But it was just a weigh station to me this time. Soon I was back on the train.
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Can’t Play Ball
The same week that over two dozen Congressmen (and one woman) played hardball in Nationals stadium, Toronto Blue Jays manager Cito Gaston reinforced the fact that the American League plays a game that’s not quite baseball.
His closing pitcher Scott Downs sprained his toe running to first base in an interleague game. I suggest his “athletes” should cross train, perhaps learn to run without hurting themselves as standard procedure.
He chose instead to whine and tell his other pitchers not to swing at the ball.
(”At plate, pitchers from AL in peril”, USA Today, June 19, 2009)
“Peril”, USA Today?
Also Secretary of State Hillary Clinton broke her elbow this week without even having to bat. Perhaps we need to increase the mandatory safety gear for AL pitchers and Cabinet members.
June 17 Chicago
I was sleeping with the windows open and at 5:30a a neighbor’s cell phone went off, about 20 times, consecutively. Apparently someone who punches elevator buttons to speed them up had obtained a phone and was furiously punching buttons.
I reracked and awoke at 9:30a, showered and packed to leave town. I worked for a little while before John and I headed to Wrigley around noon, Marsha to join us shortly after the 1:30p game time.
John and I walked about for a few Wrigleyville photos and went inside early enough to get our free Wrigley pins and see some batting practice. Seats: 509, 6, 102-104
The game left Marsha slightly annoyed by the variety of White Sox fans in our area that were less than gracious winners. Cubs 1 - 4 Sox.
From there we headed to their favorite Mexican place, which was amazingly unbusy for the reasonably short walk we made from the game. After a taco salad and some margaritas, we stopped once more at Joe’s.
After one drink there we headed home and John walked me over to Lakeshore drive. That was the first time on my cloistered visit I realized we were only two blocks from the lake.
John put me in a cab to Union Station via lower Wacker (I’ll have to rewatch the Blues Brothers when I get home) and I was soon downtown again for less than $20.
The lobby for the train was half blocked off “in the interest of security”. There were several other questionable security rules.
By 8:00p The City of New Orleans train was making its way out of Chicago.
I spent some time in the lounge car, which was combined with the dinner car instead of being two different and larger cars. I chatted with a variety of interesting folk until about 10:00p when I turned in.
June 18 The City of New Orleans
I woke around day break on the train, but not having slept well napped on and off all morning. A slight soreness in my throat that had begun in Chicago, likely due to drainage, had increased a bit.
I was sitting on the east side of the train, which was keeping fairly warm from the sun. The terrain was typically southern, heavily wooded. The few times I saw farming, the corn was about head high, whereas across Iowa and California it had been knee high or lower.
When we stopped in Jackson, Mississippi many people got out to stretch their legs and commented on the heat outside.
By far the staff on this leg of my trip has been the least friendly, least helpful, and least informative. And the patrons had a vocally boisterous subset of urban blacks and rural whites. Though there was one little girl who’s “oh, lawdy” quite humored me.
When we got past Hammond, we broke out of the forests and into open swamp and inland waterways. Then the track came along the coast of Lake Ponchetrain.
We passed Zephyr Field on the way into town, the home of a minor league team associated with the Astros.
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