I'm seeing more and more folks in the New York City subways wearing vests that say "Platform Controller." The people who wear them carry flashlights they use to signal to the conductors when they can close the doors and sometimes they shout instructions to stand aside to let people off and not block the doors when people are trying to get on. They definitely provide a sense of order to what often feels like chaos, especially during rush hour, but lately they seem to be the only strategy the MTA is applying to address the growing delays that are snarling travel. On one level, it's reassuring to be reminded that humans can step in when technology fails. But obviously a system that moves 6 million people a day needs more than a few people in smart vests to solve its problems. Cuomo recently declared a state of emergency in the subways, pledging $1 billion for improvements, but with subway delays jumping to more than 70,000 each month, from about 28,000 per month in 2012, the improvements can't come fast enough.
When I've traveled to Latin America, I've often seen political graffiti decrying the abuse of those in power or promoting the agenda of a particular party. But I rarely see political messages scrawled on American walls. This one, scrawled on a door near a subway exit/entrance was short and sweet--"Trump WW III?"--but it kind of says it all.
Subway stations in New York City tend to be filthy. The tracks are often filled with muddy puddles and festooned with trash--old papers, discarded food wrappers and the rotting detritus of urban life. Not to mention rats. There are almost always rats splashing in the puddles, investigating the garbage, scaling the rails and then vanishing seconds before the train arrives.
And the rafters are equally disgusting. If you look overhead, the girders and beams are covered with soot and stalactites of grime. Compared to rail and rafters, the platforms tend to be clean (although I've seen plenty of trash and the occasional rat there as well). I suppose it's because the Transit Authority actually sends employees to clean the platforms--or at least they did at 1 a.m. on my way home. The crowd stood to the side to avoid getting wet, but I'm pretty sure we all shared a sense of amazement that someone was applying soap and water to a place synonymous with dirt.
I took a train to this fortuitously named subway station in Brooklyn on Saturday night. The name proved prescient in 1992 and hopefully will prove just as prescient today.
So this guy sits down and just starts drawing the guy opposite him.
Takes him about 90 seconds to produce a picture. Enough time to create a
pleasing likeness and elicit a donation from the subject, who takes the
rendering with a smile.
I saw this guy going up the stairs on the uptown side of the subway platform. "I bet that crazy guy is coming to this side to catch those of us going downtown," I told my son. And sure enough, the guy jumped on our train just before the doors closed. Normally, I'd try not to catch the eye of someone lugging around a huge sign with tiny print but his subtitle--"TAKE A CELL PHONE PICTURE OF THIS SIGN AND YOU MAKE IT GO VIRAL"--was so endearing in both its innocence (as if merely snapping a photo could make something go viral) and its desire to make a difference that I felt compelled to obey its first command.
As for what the sign says, I thought Michael Bloomberg was a fantastic mayor who appointed great people and implemented many wonderful programs, but I don't think it's unreasonable to think that somehow--most likely indirectly and without nefarious intentions--his stewardship of the city and the changes he instigated here did increase the value of his holdings. More importantly, it's indisputable that if anyone wants to stop "wannabe dictators from buying our demoncracy" it's Bernie Sanders.
So maybe this dude isn't as crazy as I first thought. Although I don't want to catch his eye.
I know countless people have photographed the many statues of Tom Otterness' Life Underground installation at the 14th St. & 8th Ave. subway station, so there's no real need to add to the gazillions already spinning through the internet. One of the many charms of the little statues scattered throughout the station is how they're smoothly integrated into the environment of the station. In this instance, this little guy, who looks like a close relation of Monopoly's Rich Uncle Pennybags, appears to be waiting patiently for the next subway, presumably so he can take the sack of money he's clutching to the bank. This day, however, he enjoyed a brief respite from his perpetual waiting as transit workers installed a new pipe within his line of sight, and I felt that this break in the ordinary course of events was worthy of capturing with my cell phone camera.
The crowd is mesmerized by a man on the subway tracks.
Last night I, my husband and our friends had one of those strange yet eerily familiar moments that seem typical of life in New York City where drama unfolds unexpectedly in front of you and yet at (what feels like) a safe distance.
We'd just stepped onto the subway platform at 34th Street and Broadway when a woman ran to the emergency phone near us and began pressing the call button in a panic. Others began shouting at the clerk in her bulletproof booth, and the rest of the crowd was leaning over the edge of the platform, peering toward the far end of the tracks.
"What happened?" my husband asked the woman on the phone. "There's a guy on the tracks," she blurted, panting with panic. I assumed the man must have fallen or was pushed. My next thought was he might be suicidal. As we drifted with the crowd toward him, we discovered he was either drunk and/or mentally ill. Although dressed like an ordinary citizen of New York, only someone whose thinking was impaired would act as he did: as if he were simply going for a stroll on the narrow wooden platform over the deadly third rail.
People screamed when it appeared he might topple and some were offering their hands to help lift him back onto the platform. I wondered why the Transit Authority didn't shut the power, although I imagined it was probably a complicated process. (A question for officials: shouldn't a simple on-off switch be accessible in emergencies?) Others were mumbling "Where are the police? What's taking them so long?"
A local train and an express train pulled partly into the station, inching along until they came to full stops.
For 15 minutes, the man was the star of a scary show, the focus of the crowd's collective panic, voyeurism and agitation. Of course, everyone was snapping pictures and taking video (myself included) which seemed both awful and like a perfectly natural thing to do.
When the police finally arrived, I'm told (because I stopped looking, fearing the man's dance on the 3rd rail could only end in tragedy) that they simply grabbed him and pulled him back onto the platform.
I'm sure there's a lesson in this, but I'm not sure what it is. (That one man has the power to stop two trains?) At least I was happy that the police took decisive action and encouraged that the crowd, rather than demonstrate indifference, showed concern and offered to help, even as we took out our smart phones and documented this strange sad moment from many angles.
Step 1: Make any claim you want in a subway advertisement.
Step 2: Add an asterisk.
Step 3: At bottom of the advertisement, place an asterisk followed by completely different information, contradicting your original claim.
Step 4: Watch the money roll in.
Improvements/repairs to the No. 2 train mean travelers need to switch to a shuttle bus at 96th Street. But I'm not posting the picture as a public service announcement; rather it's the colors, reflections and depth of the image that interest me.
This little one greeted me in the hallway of my building this morning. Who says New York isn't for nature lovers?
Speaking of insects, later in the morning I caught a glimpse through a stage door of the webby set for "Spider-Man: Turn off the Dark" (previews start in the fall).
