ODE TO THIS MORNING'S COMMUTE

Announcements of five minute delays mean freezing on the platform for twenty, as PATH switches are apparently capricious about their malfunction schedule. You never know, and if you did that would take the fun out of it. Surprise me. Arriving at your destination, look forward to the wheezing troglodyte at the front of the line, flailing their arms, walking slowly, and walking in the center of both aisles to serve as a more effective living roadblock. I believe it is their job to perform such a duty, but I have not formally addressed the issue with them. No matter, it is preparation for the endless, slow, lumbering horde of people who don't seem to have a target time for arriving at work; who take issue with being pushed aside by people such as myself.

Were the weather kinder, you could look forward to a sea of tourists blocking the streets, taking pictures while standing in choke points. But today is cold, and I do not have such good fortune. On days like this, look forward to the icy wind whipping in your face, especially if you have the good fortune (like I do) of having the distant end of the island as your destination. Life is short, enjoy the frostbite. And do not fear complaining even once. It is custom among New Yorkers to constantly whine about the cold weather every winter before they take a break in April, before commencing whining about the summer heat. It is the way of things. The natural order. The call of the NYC wild, if you will.

But all is not lost. You can be assured that the coffee stand line will be prevented from moving too quickly by the person at the window arguing over the princely sum of 25 cents. The price is clearly marked, but rush hour is the best time to haggle with the proprietor; his poor grasp of English guarantees a protracted debate. For your viewing pleasure, I present angry American and confused immigrant, failing at communication but succeeding at frustration. Moving along to the security check, rest assured an idiot visitor will not understand protocol and will block all three entrances. This does take a measure of talent given the space is 12 feet wide. Can you do that? I can't. Bravo sir, for the Olympic level obstruction. Were not you here to visit an MD, your ass would have been knocked to the floor already.

Providence would destine slow internet and other paragons of inefficiency throughout the day, in order to speed along the process of misplacing one's temper. And life was good. Failing to have patience for the conformity of the rat race is my own shortcoming, and I am told to take up meditation. Perhaps one of these day's I'll schedule some time to meditate on how little time I have for such an activity. For now, let's all be content with the looming threat of a yet slower commute given rumors of precipitation in another hemisphere. One can not expect better, it is my own fault for saving a buck instead of moving into my employer's lobby. All fine and well, until the day comes to retire to the hallowed paradise of Bschool, but this will have to do for now. And the Lord saw what he had created; and it was good. And on the seventh day there was no rest becauase we're all heathens who work seven days a week.

If you can't beat them, join them, and when that gets old you can make your exit.

Adieu transit PATH and walking path, I commend myself to the ocean route.

Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged and I will take the ferry from now on.