Of Trains

"Train arrive 16 coaches long. Well that long black train got my baby and gone"

'Mystery Train', Sam Phillips

Duke Ellington's grinning face behind an almost impossibly reflective, laid-out piano, is an image that always served for me as an emblem of New York City. Despite the fact that Washington D.C. was the city that stood in witness at the birth of Edward Kennedy Ellington, it was the flickering lights of Uptown Harlem that announced, proclaimed and maintained the birth of the legend that was and is The Duke. Together with a handful of equally legendary peers, he transformed a few dance halls, ballrooms and speakeasies into at first ultimate destination venues, then establishments and finally into cultural and historical icons - not only of these United States, but rather, of this entire dusty globe.

One of The Duke's most regarded passions was trains. Many a title of a song referenced trains and he often spoke of trying to capture the rhythm, movement and swing of those grand old steam powered beasts into his songs.

We no longer view trains in such a romantic way. This may be partly because the advances in technology from those slowly lolling along, coal fed, magnificent iron creations into it's somewhat sleeker, electronic counterpart, certianly remove a level of romance from the experience. But i also think it's because the train riding experience itself has become so utilitarian. We use it to get to work, home, places of interest and court arraignments and as such we see it as simply the tool of the journey; a means to an ends.

New York is a city reliant on it's subway system and as such is a city defined by it's subway system. Every line seems to have it's own personal character. Most days I take the 3 into Atlantic Ave and the D over The Manhattan Bridge and into Broadway-Lafayette. Yesterday, boarding on the second half of my journey, i noticed an image i realised i consistently see - numerous people asleep on the D Train. I don't mean sorta dozing off, but rather out cold, unconscious to this world and not a handful of folk, but virtually half the carriage. This is part of the character that is the D train.

Once i had positioned myself as far away as possible from the incredibly annoying little old Russian men lost in an intense conversation that required one to 'Tsk, tsk,tsk' amazingly loudly in response to every third or fourth sentence uttered by the other, i started to internally compose a little mental draft for a blog about this 'D Train/passenger sleeping' phenomenon. As my imaginary fingers spread across the keyboard of my mind, i thought back to my few previous posts. So many of them seem to involve sleep as a theme. Accordingly, it seems to me, this city appears to be best summed up in the context of sleep.

There are those that have plenty and those that need so much more. Those that sleep rough and those sleeping in ostentatious opulence. Those that stay out late and those that rise early. Those too sick to rest easy and those too healthy to waste it on slumber. Those who drift off in excitement of tomorrow and those tossing and turning their way towards dread. Those that nap during the day and those that sleep all the way through the sunlight hours. Those who sleep alone and those all entangled up in a lover's arms. Those asleep on the 47th floor and those asleep down in a basement. Those needing sleeping aids and those who can't seem to stay awake. And then there are those who fall asleep on the D Train.

The above list could go on forever.

Ain't it interesting that the city that itself never sleeps, is in essence a collection of people moving and reacting to that very rhythm, movement and swing of that grand old ride.