The Train, The Train 11-28-2012

This is a somehwhat progressive blog. Feel FREE to begin by clicking to my first post: Boologging Begins


I have ingested, digested, and re-gested the article I briefly mentioned in November’s "Free-Fall" post. The author compares people and their FREE wills to trains on tracks. If a moving train stays on its track, all is well; but if it strays from its track, it creates calamity and disaster.

 

Even though, for writing purposes, I mercilessly diss trains, I actually have a fondness for riding in them. For our 34th anniversary, my husband and I rode the train together from Chicago to STL. The quaint charm of the train and its amenities made that 5-hour trek comfortable and quite productive as we were each able to use our laptop computers. We flew past many nostalgic sites, including Illinois State University, where eons ago, following a beginning-of-the-schoolyear Chi Alpha activity, I met Jeff. We had our first date, and for 8 months we were close to inseparable until summer break. We married 11 months after our first date.

It seems appropriate to take this anniversary train trip with him, past our old stomping grounds, and remind myself that I am one of the lucky ones. As an adult child of an alcoholic I could have married an alcoholic or become one. 

 

The train quickly moves along, but an unplanned delay is imminent. Our stomachs begin to gurgle. Carry-on Rice Krispie treats and nuts prolong our need for solid food, but eventually I chuckle: Jeff, my stomach is speaking to me; let’s stretch our legs and check out the prices in the food car.

We stumble through one car and then another, arriving to the food car’s line for questionable, not-so-gourmet, $7.00, micro-waved "scary burgers." To stall our hunger, we reluctantly split one.

Our train suddenly applies its breaks, screeching slowly to a strained halt. Naturally, I'm a little jolted and ask: Jeff, what do you think is wrong? 

My concerns are relieved as the conductor announces we must move out of the way for a northbound, oncoming train. I have no fear as our monstrous train awkwardly and noisily moves in reverse, and then maneuvers forward, safely onto a side track. We wait for the other train to zip past, and then our train noisily and clunkily re-maneuvers back to the main track to continue southbound to STL, after a 30-minute delay.

During my confusing childhood I wish a conductor could have given me play-by-plays during screeching times and hours-long, night-time disruptions. I needed reasons for the chaos, and as an adult I searched for answers. I have come full-circle and see that it was after my parents' ebb-and-flow, fairy-tale-like, first 14 years of marriage; immediately after birthing child number 6, as Dad was nearing his vulnerable 40s...the volcano erupted. That is when our uninvited "guest" arrived (I was just 6 and my younger sibs were aged 5, 2, and newborn) and stayed for 11 unending years. It seemed like a lifetime.

Swinging back to the train ride, we appreciate our freedom to roam, but we are glad the ride is only temporary. The end-of-the-line, St. Louis stop is our anticipated destination as we eagerly change transportation modes… to our maneuverable Toyota Corolla. We enthusiastically stop for a reasonable Wendy's burger and then we, full-speed ahead, gallop home.

I do like riding in trains, every so often, but comparing spirited-me to an actual train on a track, a train track, or even being a passenger on a train, doesn’t feel right. I bristle at the idea of being inflexible and trapped, and I prefer to not be likened to a cold, hard, inanimate object. A train doesn’t live, breathe, or think. It has absolutely no FREE-will and is clueless. It can only run on preset tracks, has no soul, and runs on stinky diesel fuel. Nope, I will embrace my spirited-self.

The author’s idea of a track does, however, pique my interest. I embrace purpose, and mission, and competition…so I’m warming into comparing my free-will to a living, breathing, spirited animal…an animal that runs on a track…

Another thing for which I am grateful: Holiday lights.

I love the Christmas season, and it feels great to have November's writings posted. We are half-way around the track heading to the Sunday December 30th finish line! December 2nd's post bubbles with a story... Deo Volente.