Archive for the ‘Queens Plaza’ Category
poor substitute
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
December 6th, a date which will live in infamy, as it is the anniversary of the birth of British Occultist Dion Fortune as well as the day that a man modernity knows as Santa Claus died.
The Mayan Apocalypse is only 15 days away now, so it might be a good idea to focus in on something a bit less weighty than the end of the universe. Accordingly, on a day that reminded one of nothing more than the Stephen King short story called “The Mist”, your humble narrator headed down to Queens Plaza to check out and ride the MTA Holiday Nostalgia Trains.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
These holiday nostalgia trains are a yearly event offered by the MTA, and run on the M line between Queens Plaza and the 2nd avenue stop in Manhattan. Legacy equipment, the trains are a hodge lodge of different eras in subway history, and are maintained with the historical advertising one would have observed “back in the day”. The trains are running on Sundays, with the first train leaving the city at ten and arriving in Queens Plaza for the return trip at 10:44 am. Check out this page at the MTA website for more info on train models and schedule.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Train people, rail fans as they would call themselves, are a breed apart. It is extremely easy to mock their enthusiasm and detailed knowledge of the industrial ephemera which surrounds rolling stock, and there are several nicknames for them. These denigrating nomens infuriate their insular community, in the same way that Star Trek or Comic Book people detest outsiders labeling them as nerds or geeks. This is their hobby, and its actually a fairly wholesome one at that.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It’s funny, how little attention or notice the actual hardware of the subways receives. Personally, the only time I truly pay attention to the cars themselves is when I find myself on a line which is using a completely different model than one of the trains which I normally travel on. The R versus the 1 for instance, use entirely different models, although I couldn’t tell you much more than surface differences, nor why the choice was made to use one of the other. The rail fan will be able to point to the exposed screw in a random light fixture and tell you an involved tale about it, usually involving long dead commissioners and obscure MTA operatives you’ve never heard of before.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
You’ve still got two more Sundays to get out and experience these vintage cars, lined with goofy advertising from the past- admonishments to “hire a veteran”, “Smoke Viceroy”, and reminders that “real men wear a hat”. Be prepared though, for camera flash and dozens of photographers roaming the trains as they hurtle along. One interesting existential observation is how “bouncy” these trains are in comparison to the modern units, they are also quite a bit louder.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As mentioned, the holiday trains are moving along the M tracks, and performing regular duty for the day. An enjoyable activity is to watch the City people blindly get on board, texting and futzing about with their phones, and then suddenly cast their gaze around, noticing their surroundings and the hordes of photographers and rail fans around them. There are some photographers and “creepy camera club guys” who hire models to dress in period garb for the day, and pretty ladies and gentlemen can be observed wearing the fashions of earlier times.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One finds that you have to hold on to something when these trains are moving, lest you be tossed about. One of my many annoying habits, this one exhibited while riding the subway, is to stand on the balls of my feet with my arms at my side and “surf” as the subway moves between stations. I enjoy this, and it would be suicide to try it on the vintage trains, which demand two on the floor and one on the pole or hanging strap. The MTA, you’ve come a long way, baby.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The general protocol which your humble narrator follows for this event is to ride the train in a full circuit, from Queens Plaza to second and back to QP where I leave the train, satisfied with the experience. My rail fan friends engage in a Bataan death march of a day, riding back and forth in some kafkaesque loop, and will pack a lunch. Such devotion is remarkable, and beyond my attention span.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My personal predilection, after entering the subway system, is usually to get out of it as quickly as possible. I don’t like it down there, in that dripping stygia of rat infested tunnels. I don’t like knowing that the trains form pneumatic dams within the tunnels which push a swirling cloud of rodent droppings and desiccated decay before them and into the station. Mephitic, these dust blasts paint every surface- including me- with fecund horrors whose byzantine complexity is beyond the capacity of even a madman to conceive.
Accordingly, me and the Forgotten-NY guy went out for coffee in LIC after getting off the train at the 23 Ely stop.
nerve powder
“follow” me on Twitter at @newtownpentacle
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Suffer, suffer, suffer. That’s the status on the bad back situation, which I am tired of complaining about. The holiday weekend is upon us, and accordingly, you will see rather short postings here for the next couple of days as most of you will be eating and shopping with loved ones in lesser cities and hopefully have little or no time to listen to me. Pictured above is the never ending stream of traffic entering Queens from the great machine called Queensboro, by the way. We’ll have new conversation on Monday, as in my infirmity I’ve been reading quite a bit about both cannibalism and crocodiles.
ghastly marble
– photo by Mitch Waxman
For so long, western Queens has been regarded as the vestibule of Long Island- a convenient place to stamp out boots caked with mud or to leave a wet umbrella. It has been a place one passes through, while on the way to somewhere else. The elites of a certain Shining City lying to the west have formulated a different role for the place in recent years, but there’s no denying that they still regard it as a corridor.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Those of us who live here see a different place, idiosyncratic and oddly charming, populated by aspirants, immigrants, and often- bad actors. We exist between the factories and rail yards, along the highways and elevated subways, in pretty as you please two and three story homes. “Mind your own business” is the motto, as is “trouble will come anyway, so why seek it out on purpose?”. Most just want to be left alone to BBQ or smoke black market cigarettes.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Municipal involvement, other than by a dedicated cadre of operatives and opportunists, is slim. Ask any resident of Astoria what reward there is in voting, and you’ll be told that it’s jury duty. All of the time I spend in Brooklyn on creek business strikes a stunning counterpoint to the scene in Queens. In Greenpoint, they may not vote at higher numbers than on the Queens side of the Newtown Creek, but they can summon up a torch bearing mob with stunning rapidity over there.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
For many years, I’ve wondered “what if election day was a national holiday?”. A national “get off of work day”, which would be vetted by a receipt handed out at the polling place and presented to your employer. It wouldn’t indicate who you cast a ballot for, instead merely stating that you voted. The biggest problem we have is low voter participation. It allows marginal groups who vote in blocs great power, sidelines the mainstream, and allows elites to develop amongst elected officials who cater to tiny slices of the population. Perhaps a tax credit instead, knock a hundred bucks off your federal taxes in return for participating in the American form of Government.
doorless corridor
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’ve probably been walking past this sign for better than a year. Never actually took the time to notice it, let alone grab a shot or two. Just the other day, a casual glance caused me to register its message and delightful usage of the English language, and frozen in his tracks was a humble narrator. I can almost work out the accent of the guy who made this sign.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
To start with, I really like the idea of an inconvenience station, even if it is spelled in a rather creative fashion. Not only is the idea of a centralized location wherein one may be inconvenienced an extremely New York City sort of thing, and especially a “Queens thing”, but this might be a great- albeit “temperory”- addition to the new Queens Plaza.
betwixt spaces
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A recent posting- vaguely articulate– detailed a close call with a speeding bicycle in Queens Plaza’s dangerous weaving of pedestrian and vehicle pathways. A couple of folks emailed me, questioning my perceptions of where the bike path was located in physical space. Today’s post expands on the topic.
On my way to some meeting, somewhere, a humble narrator was moving through Queens Plaza. Remembering to photograph the pedestrian curb cut this time, with its icon indicating that the bike path is designed to flow right through it…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Proof of my point for the inefficacy of this situation then came whizzing across the street…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The fellow on the bicycle wasn’t doing anything illegal, as is evident in the shot above, the bike paths leading out from the Queensboro Bridge lead directly into the pedestrian crosswalk and up onto the sidewalk…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
They continue past the narrow section of the pavement alongside a subway stairwell…
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Where they continue along, vehicles (bicycles) mixing freely with pedestrian traffic.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Coincidentally, that’s when two European tourists got off the Subway, having a heated discussion in some alien tongue. They didn’t seem to know which way to go, having just seen a bicycle roll through their apparent path.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’d imagine they were headed for one of the many new hotels located in the Dutch Kills neighborhood, one hopes they made it to their lodging without incident…
Also, on this day in 1945, the world changed– forever.
The Newtown Pentacle 