Engineered for Good Living

14 December, 2006

The seats on the train are designed to accommodate an average size person fairly comfortably, granted, with no room to spare. For someone like me, i'm very comfortable. For a large framed or chubby or tall person, they fit, albeit, snugly. But, they do fit.

But even the large framed person is a minority, never mind the little people -- they're a micro-minority. i mean, Lebron James being large is a proportionate large -- His height dictates His weight and while He may have a little difficulty fitting into one of the seats, you have to remember that the train is for common folk, not for the transporting of Gods.

The problem is that most people require a seat and a half. They have to walk sideways to move through the aisles.

It isn't that the train interior is designed poorly, its that people don't design their lives very well. They don't seem to mind waddling or huffing and puffing or imposing their blubber and their breath on the world. On top of that, they wear big GIGANTIC puffed out down coats and they carry multiple bags and hot coffee without a sip-top AND a sticky doughnut, the napkin for which they usually leave under the seat. You'll probably find a copy of the NY Post nearby.

One woman had to sit on an angle with her knees blocking the aisle. She had taken a fold-down seat near the door. No arm-rests, thank goodness for her. Everyone had to say, "excuse me" to her as they passed. She said "excuse me" to no one.

Some of the seats face each other. i'm lucky if i sit there -- you wouldn't know it because you'd think you're in for trouble what with having to sit knee-to-knee with someone. But usually only people who fit in such spots will attempt it. These are polite people. They don't intrude. They yank their backpacks and briefcases up on their laps or up to their chests and huddle. They have room to introduce their own baggage into their personal space instead of taking up everyone else's personal or communal space.

The train scares me. It used to excite me. i remember the sleeper cars with my mom from New York to Chicago. Sometimes the train lulls me ... but that is only when i can relax. So long as some people are forcing accommodation to standards that aren't meant to be, i'm uncomfortable there in my comfortable seat.

Its too bad those so-called standards have changed so dramatically. Why do Americans keep getting larger and taking up more space? Why is this a rich nation with fat poor? Other countries have skinny, emaciated poor. Rice and beans are just as cheap as chips and Burger King. i feel wistful really -- not angry or resentful -- i just muse that some of the old ways might be nice here in the modern world. i mean, look at the handwriting in the 1800s! EVERYONE had beautiful handwriting! Just check out an inscription in an old book -- i saw one the other day -- 1871 "for Charles -- this book is presented to you as a reward for good penmanship -- (signed), Miss Lily". i love Charles! i love Miss Lily!

Like the sleeper car with my mom, i miss the other nostalgic, heart-warming images. Like the damsel tied to the tracks -- a pre-cursor to my bondage inclinations. And the children's book, The Little Engine Who Could. And too, when the subways were graffiti-ed like they were in the opening sequence to Welcome Back Kotter. i guess i'm really an unconventional old-fashioned kind of girl. i just wish people would fit into the seats assigned to them.