|Snowing on 72nd Street|
A few years ago I made plans to visit my sister in the city to look at apartments with her. It was a wintry day, cold and cloudy with a flurry of snow in the forecast for the late afternoon. I hopped on the Long Island Railroad, having parked my car in the lot at the train station near my house. A 40 minute ride and I would be in Manhattan. No problem. We were going to look at a few places, have lunch and I'd go home. Done.
Only minutes into the ride the snow starts falling. It's only 10 A.M. and I was thinking to myself "Wasn't this supposed to be later in the day?" If you don't know the L.I.R.R., a little snow could shut down the whole system. Ugh. Fifteen minutes in, the announcement I could barely make out said the train would be delayed. Oh great. I called my sister to tell her the news so she could re-arrange the appointment. The best, most relaxed trip into Manhattan from mid-Nassau County Long Island and a little snow wipes out the system. Just think about it. Do you have any idea how many people ride the railroad as their daily commute? Some days you love it, some days you hate it.
The trip was an hour late getting into Pennsylvania Station and so was our appointment. Everything worked out fine, except we trudged around in the snow that was accumulating inches by the minute. By lunch there was four inches on the ground and more falling. After we were done I hailed a cab back to the train station for my trip home. When I arrived I found my car under seven inches of snow! Of course I didn't listen to my father who used to have us keep a shovel in the trunk. All I had was a magazine to push all that snow off my windshield. Not fun.
A photograph of my decimated magazine pushing snow off the car would have been fun for the blog, if I had one then. Next time.