Wednesday, November 17, 2004
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
We’re already into Newton, though it’s hard to say exactly where since I’m again on the south side staring through a dingy window glowing brightly from direct sunlight. I’m not sure why these windows are dingy – perhaps ‘frosted’ might be a better description, as though the protective coating has been etched by harsh cleaning chemicals. There’s an old rule in optics when it comes to cleaning glass – don’t, or at least don’t until you really need to.
Of course, this notion extends far beyond glass cleaning, and perhaps serves to illustrate something about the idea of “enough is enough” – that striving for utter perfection is the best way to push in the opposite direction. Disasters of choice (as apposed to those of happenstance) are often described as some egocentric technician seeking unrealistic goals. Yet in my experience the vast majority of technical screw-ups have little to do with ego and simply stem from an itchy unwillingness to leave well enough alone.
Beyond the tracks at Yawkey Station sunlight briefly glares across an open parking lot to reveal stout twelve-story buildings. The view does not last. In what seems like only a moment later, once more we are entombed inside the Back Bay Tunnel – a darkness unrelentingly and full of eerie gloom until we reach the underground station with its slightly more welcoming gloom.
Nearly everyone leaves who seems to be leaving – until a woman preening for most of her ride finally notices the station stop. Rising quickly she scurries atop solid heals clunking the length of the aisle before clanging down the metal carriage steps leaving just in time. We all find some way to kill time aboard these trains. Some read, others sleep, some tinker with makeup. Most of us get where we’re going.
A departing train passes alongside beneath the usual I-93 pillar forest as we wait. Underway again, we’re approaching South Station with yet another train now pulling alongside in the same direction. Together we drift to the end of the line and into the beginning of a new day in the city.
