Strangers on a Train

When I first moved to the city, I used to really love taking the train to work. The whole idea of not having to sit in traffic, worry about parking, look for gas stations when the tank's on empty--all of those normal little anxieties instantly evaporated. (Actually, I still am really grateful for not having to deal with those things anymore.)

I used to tell people that I loved Muni when I first moved here, and they looked at me like I had carrots growing out of my ears. Now I realize that that was a pretty greenhorn thing to say because the SF public transportation system has some major problems. But taking the train still beats driving (at least here in the city where people drive like nuts--be warned). Now I just get embarrased for us in theory, picturing what imaginary Parisians taking our trains must think because our meager subway system is such a sad little joke when compared to the Paris metro.

You just have to learn the unspoken rules on how to ride on the train. Like where to stand on the platform to get on the least crowded train or who gets dibs on a newly vacated seat. The other thing you are supposed to learn about the train is how not to look at people. (There's an interesting concept about the familiar stranger that ties in with this, and of course the Walker Evans photo above says a lot.)

When I don't get a seat (which means I can't read my book--I'm not one of those talented, multi-tasking riders who can grip a pole with one hand and a book in the other), I have my little train games. I still do enjoy looking at people (it's my train cabaceo). Once in a while I can get a person to smile back at me. I like to wink at the occasional little kid, but many of them are unresponsive. My other game is to decide if which rider I would pick to kiss if it was my last kiss on earth. Sometimes I don't have very good choices with that game. Or if a person resembled an animal, which one they would be.

I like to see what other people are reading. One Thousand Years of Solitude has been a very popular book on trains I ride. Also The Kite Runner and Absurdistan. Lately, I've noticed a few Atonements (myself being a recent McEwan fan, too, but not because of the film) and some Jane Austen--Northanger Abbey and Emma. Lots of people read The Economist and The New York Times. It makes me happy to see that people on the N-Judah have pretty good taste in their reading material. Once in a while, I'll see someone reading a book that I've never heard of before but looks really interesting and I put it on my mental reading list.

Once in a very great while, you actually strike up a conversation with a fellow traveller. One night, I was on my way home and just finishing the last few pages of Fahrenheit 451. A scruffy young guy--not homeless but definitely wandering--sat next to me, noticed what I was reading, and his face lit up. He said to me, Wow, I remember when I read that book when I was a kid. I really liked it a lot.

I told him the book is still as good as he remembered it (I read it in the 7th grade and again several times years later) and asked him what he likes to read now. He told me that he really didn't buy books anymore (I could have guessed that), but once in a while he goes to the library. I gave him my book and said it's one of those great books that's worth re-reading, but that he had to promise to give it to someone else when he was done with it, because that's the whole point of Fahrenheit 451: Read books and pass 'em on.

He was so happy. It was really cool. That's a little train game I'd like to play again some day.

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Even though it doesn't get the hype that Rear Window, Vertigo or North By Northwest gets, I think Strangers on a Train is one of Alfred Hitchock's great movies. Check it out if you haven't seen it. Robert Walker is really, really creepy in it.