Sights and Sounds of the Season

Week Ending 12/7/07:

Good tidings and Season's Greetings to all you busy shoppers, anxious commuters and Holiday travelers. The city is aglow with Christmas spirit. Just this week I saw the rats on an "E" train platform shredding up some ribbon and the wrapping paper from an errant present dropped by an absent-minded railer. They love Hickory Farms!

Mrs. Twain and I came into the city to see the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center and catch a Holiday concert at the Metropolitan Museum of Art performed by Chanticleer. This group presents 12 male voices that are unsurpassed in their range and clarity, and when they blend, it's like butta. If you wonder what the angels singing in Heaven will be like, here it is!

My fellow railers have been, for the most part, pretty congenial and accommodating these recent days. I've seen a number of random acts of kindness this week: giving up seats so families can sit together, helping load and store luggage, and a few more smiles representing a temporary willingness to be tolerant for annoying behavior. I guess we can call it "good will toward people"! One exception does come to mind, however, and I'm the guilty party. I was on my way to NY, when a young woman, probably late 20's, joined me in Philadelphia. She wanted to sit on the inside seat next to the window, which was fine by me. She's a female Gilbert Gottfried. I'll call her Gilda. Gilda Gottfried. Squinty eyes, and squirming in her seat. She couldn't sit still and no sooner did she take her seat, she began to complain. She's wedged into the seat to begin with, and while balancing a grande latte in her left hand, she began to try and remove her coat, maneuvering around a large computer bag on her lap, and an oversized handbag at her feet. To her credit, she succeeded without spilling a drop. She also brought with her a consistent sniffle and throat-clearing exercise every, oh say, minute and a half, without exception. It was one of those bad coke sniffles with bronchitis-like sounds that draws the congestion deep into her lungs. Did I mention that adding to the disturbance was the constant whining about the train conditions. "It's too hot in here. It's very hot. Why is it so hot in here" and on and on she went. Also "It's very tight in here. There's not much room in these seats. Why is it so tight in here?" Needless to say, she made an impression on me. Since I didn't have a good answer for her, I simply took out a tablet and began writing my Christmas list. Nothing puts me in a better mood, and before I knew it, we had arrived in Gotham.