RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,283
(I had to deal, not gripe)
I've told already how I got to know the
conductors of the trains and how, in the
morning, the conductors never took my
ticket. It was the 5:06, first train of the day.
It ran out of NYC, and hit all the Jersey
stops along the rail corridor, with Metuchen
as its, maybe, 7th stop, and then 5 others, to
Princeton Junction. At Princeton Junction,
a main hub, anyone to be headed for the
University had to wait 10 minutes or so
and catch the 2-car, small, connecting
train called 'The Dinky' (Originally the
PJ&B, meaning, coyly, 'Princeton Junction
and Beyond). [see video too, of the 1963
staged 'train robbery']. The two conductors
on the early main-train, always together,
were Newark girls, quite friendly. Black
girls from Newark, who are large, talkative
and pleasant, have a spectacular charm, not
often found this side of, say, the old portraits
of Aunt Jemima. In their conductor outfits,
these two were cool. On that early morning
train, as well, there weren't many other people
except a few construction workers and train
maintenance crew type guys, laborers, also
black, with their big boots, work and tool
boxes. They were all friends, and stayed
mostly together, unless one wanted to be
sleeping. Newark insiders, all. I've already
mentioned the box of chocolate Entenmann's
donuts I'd occasionally bring for the two
conductor girls. It was always appreciated,
and they went right at them gleefully. As I
said, these 2 girls were 'big'. Newark fat.
One of the black guys, that day, pipes up,
in best Black-ese :"Why you give them that
for? You be make them fat!' Oh boy, I had
really done it this time. I'd never mention
fat or size or anything of that with the two
ladies. Leave it to one of the guys to do so!
It got laughed off, and fortunately, was never
made mention of again.
-
All of these railroad yard worker guys got off
at the Jersey Avenue stop, which is one stop
after New Brunswick. It seemed to be where
trains were stored, worked on, repaired and
serviced. New track-laying railcars, etc. all
started out from that yard; so I guessed that's
where those guys worked and what they did.
-
I always enjoyed the rail rides; even when I
took those same trains up to New York City.
There was something about the rail travel
that allowed contemplation and solitude. BUT,
I must add, it soon deteriorated, as a cultural
condition, everywhere. It wasn't but a year or
two later that everything was altered. I'm not
sure what happened and/or how it occurred,
but like the rest of American culture it was
quickly headed downhill. After a while, it
made me stop riding the trains and go back
to driving. The quality of the ridership just
seemed to just fall to Hell. They tried 'quiet
cars' for a while, but those were more of a
pathetic joke than anything. Rife with the
challenges and bombast of 'just try to shut
me down, fool!' There were food drippings,
food smells, families of New Brunswick
Mexicans getting on and off, noisily, and
without any regard for others; slackers and
losers too; drugs, alcohol, and the rest. The
entire premise of civil travel was gone. And,
of course, there was endless phone chatter
-
I guess it was pretty much the fate of all
things, to degenerate and devolve. Nothing,
apparently ever goes 'up.' We go from
Beethoven, to 'Roll Over Beethoven,
and give Tchaikovsky the news!'
-
I've always liked solitude and quietude too.
My entire life's been more like a study hall
than anything else, by design. I hate sports
and noise, crowds and mob scenes. Adulation
and boosterism make me sick. One of the
first crappy things that happened to me, at
the Labyrinth store, about a year in, was the
World Cup Soccer matches of, I guess, 2008.
I'd never even heard of that crap before, and
all of a sudden here was our boss, the guy
running the store and having all the intellectual
pretense of some reigning genius, running from
pizza counter to sandwich shop (they were
right next door, and all over Nassau Street),
where these soccer matches were being
broadcast and people were cheering,
watching, eating and hooting without
end at the excitement of...soccer, just
so he too could stand there and gape up
at a television. To me it was like going
from a high-class University, to a
kiddie carnival. What a let down.
-
An individual has to admit to the
importance or non-importance of things.
I knew that and I therefore was always at
work trying to balance all this out. Early
on in my new employment, I was often
enough in trouble; getting taken aside
and talked to, being asked about what the
problems were as I saw them, etc. It wasn't
personnel, and it wasn't work environment.
I think it was more just fit. The two female
managers who kept bagging me seemed
unable to read between the lines, and I was
not about to be the one to start beefing and
complaining about things, nor about others.
If none of it was apparent to them, then it
was contingent on them to just throw me
overboard. No one made a move, and a
simple stasis soon just took over. Issues
of quality and personnel have just never
interested me. My work always got done,
in my own strictly predicated manner, and
usually without the input of others. Fact was,
others were the problems, but how can you
tell that to a boss? 'Ah, look, I just wish to
be left alone and I'll do all my work in the
best way possible to get it done; on time
and without the undue influence of all
the other pesky people you keep sending
down here.' That, my friends, was a
true no-fly zone. In fact, it was
almost Barnes & Noble redux, with
added conflict. BUT, a person can't
just go running around with a quality-
meter and a checklist, judging all that
he sees. (Actually, I wonder. Perhaps
that's what everyone does, and all the
time). Anyway, I kept cool, managed to
hang on, made friends at my own level,
rode the train, played the parts needed,
and hung in. The only real problems, and
they came only after a while, stemmed
from that Huck Finn person's intrusion,
and all of that grew eventually to crisis
proportions. More later, and it's a long
story.
-
Low-level and interpersonal politics never
attracted me, nor did I ever care what in
the heck anyone else ever did. I guess,
on paper, that right there along throws me
out of any hope of being in the Managerial
class. Yes, there I was, and torturously failing
at it. I'd had lots of experience with blowhards
before, so it wasn't too much to deal with.
Back in the printing business, half of the
people I'd deal with - salesmen, shysters,
cheats and double-talkers - had all
the stripes and colors of that ilk, and they
used to really burn me up. But there too
I had to deal, not gripe.
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