Through the Midwest to . . .

  

 It has been interesting blowing through all of these midwestern towns.  It has hammered into me the reality that I live in a very prosperous place in the USA, maybe the world.  The houses on the main are much more humble in a lot of these towns, and I don't see all the new cars that I see in Tacoma and Seattle.

I always admired John Cougar Mellencamp for his visions of the midwest.  I like Bob Seger for the same reason.  When I'm making some cursory judgement about how things are based upon casual observation, if I'm honest, I have to say that I probably bring some preconcieved notions into my judgement.  I guess that's OK as I'm not being nationally published and I acknowledge that my opinions may be grossly mistaken.

For breakfast we sat with a couple from Indiana.  They, like us, were on a vacation.  He is a retired plumber, and she worked for a stock broker.  They have five kids, all grown and they were a bit younger than us (I think).  When Kristi told them that we were musicians the first question from Deb was "do you play Christian music".  Kristi named the two Christian songs that we play and no more questions.  I knew we weren't going to talk politics.  I realize that folks who inhabit the big demographic, people who make the wheels in this country go, are not the same as we are.  

After seeing the relative poverty of the midwest, and the southwest I wonder how Trump managed to hornswoggle all of these people.  These are people who take it for granted that they will never need a social safety net, and are convinced that they are paying for a lot of people who should have their sleeves rolled up and be working just like they are.  There's a certain arrogance there.  I blame it on the American dream and the idea that we all should live in a house with a 2 car garage, and maybe a swimming pool.  Debbie and Dan have a house on a lake.  I don't envy them.  They (especially Dan) have busted their asses to have what they've got.

We are on the last leg of our journey.  Tomorrow morning we will get into King Street Station in Seattle.  We're not totally sure how we will get to Tacoma, having more than one option but David G. thinks he can find us a ride from the Angle Lake light rail station.

Right now we are running over the plains of North Dakota.  It actually looks fairly prosperous to me, mostly agricultural land.  There's still a dusting of snow everywhere and lots of frozen water.

When we were in Canada I had little news.  There didn't seem to be any newspapers where we stopped and Via Rail definitely didn't have wifi.  Now I can get news if I want it through cell phone towers.  I even found a newspaper at a news stand in Albany, New York when they gave us a little time to get off of the train.  The only place we got off of the train on this leg of the journey there wasn't even a vending machine to get a can of pop, much less a news stand.  You've heard the term "sleepwalking into autocracy"?  I think that's what we're doing, and I've been doing my share of sleepwalking on this entire trip.  Time to wakey, wakey.  

New York City

 

 We spent the better part of today (Feb. 28, 2025) in New York City.  We got in on the 27th fairly late in the evening, but early enough to get out to a restaurant for dinner.  On the 27th (Wednesday) we got on a train in Toronto, Ontario CA and rode it all the way to New York City.  I think I said something about the ride through Niagara (where we went through American customs) and all of those familiar upstate New York towns like Syracuse, Albany, Rome, etc.  It was an Amtrak train, but the crew out of Toronto was Canadian and they switched to an American crew in Niagara.

We had a reservation in a Holiday Inn.  Our room was on the 22nd floor and had a pretty good view, although the windows were really dirty.  That meant that my camera with its auto focus wanted to focus on the dirt on the window instead of what was out side the window.  We were focused on getting out of the room anyway and did get out - walked over to Penn St. Station and put our luggage in a storage spot provided by Amtrak for $10 a piece, so we didn't leave everything there.  We just left our roller bags.  We also met David G. there.  The booker for the trip put him in a different hotel from us.  Fortunately the clerk at the Holiday Inn managed to find his hotel and after going out to dinner he took a cab over there, and then met us at Penn St. Station.  

We all went to have a bite to eat at a food court near where we left our luggage.  Then Kristi and I walked out into the streets of New York to find the Hop On, Hop Off bus which was part of our tour package.  As it turned out it was a fairly long walk to get to the place where they confirmed our ticket and got us onto a bus.  

When we first got on the bus we went inside the bus. I realized fairly quickly that we would see almost nothing from the interior of the bus, and we spotted folks going up a little stairway which Kristi instantly knew was the "stairway to heaven".  Well. . . not exactly heaven, but exterior seats on the roof of the bus from which you could see the city as we rolled through it.  They also provided ear buds which plugged into an audio system that briefed you on what you were seeing.

 Of  course many times we were borderline aware of what we were seeing.  The audio threw in a few New York City songs such as "A New York State of Mind" by Billy Joel.  There were a number of musical interludes in the audio program, and some silly jokes too.  Eventually it got cold, was windy, and not as much fun as the initial bus ride, but it was sunny, and the visibility was good.  

At one point it was so windy that I changed my hat from western style cowboy to a cloth cap that would stay on my head a little better and still keep my head warm.  We are now on a train to Chicago where we will catch the train to Seattle and home.  It is Friday and we'll get home on Monday.  We'll see you there.

Niagara to New York . . . well, Toronto to NYC?

 

February 25, 2025

 

There were wheels

We knew we needed them

To keep us rolling

The chug of the engine

Kept us company

 

Time stood still for a while

When the towns would come by

The whistle warned them

 

There’s a crusty old engine

With cars in its’ wake

We’re coming through

 

 

We don’t mean to cause trouble

We just want you to know

Please don’t stand in our way

 

So we rolled through the mountains

Across the wide prairies

So flat you felt you saw

Across to the other side

 

You watched the wind move

The slight tired prairie grasses

Just those with the courage

To stand through the snow

 

There were lakes all along

As we rolled to the east

It was dead center winter

So they were all white

Covered with snow

 

And their water was frozen

The pike and the trout

Moved slowly below it

Waiting for winter to bid them so long

 

The muskrat, the beaver

Wait for the sun, for the spring

While we roll on by them

 

Now we will remember

The icy cold winter

When we all kept warm

As the wheels kept on rolling

 

We kept on dreaming

Of fields filled with flowers

Mountain green forests

Miles of prairie grasses

Underneath that winter snow

 

I sometimes feel like I’m in a confessional.  I don’t think I’ve always had this tendency to tell  -  and like I say, confess my life, fraught with poor judgement, decisions, or lack of decision.

 

It’s four in the morning.  I find it difficult to believe it is day six.  I guess we’re halfway home as time goes, even though we are not to the halfway mark as miles go.

Not to stereotype people, but most of these people have raised families, and many of them are professionals of one kind or another.  They don’t know the ways of the road.  This is all a fantasy to them while it has been a good portion of my life.

 

I told the story of King Cove -  being fired etc. last night.  I don’t think it probably did much for my reputation.  What do I have to talk about?  No kids, a pretend career?

 

I’m going to take a crack at describing where I am right now.  The place where I am is called a “berth”.  In the daytime it is seats, more like a bench.  This setup is kind of in the corner of the rail cars.  We are on the left side of the car if we are facing forward.  I should say “I” am on the left side of the car.

 

Kristi is in the berth directly across from me on the right side of the car.  There is a thick cloth curtain with snaps on it that pulls across my space.  I snap it closed after I climb the ladder and get in place in my berth. 

 

The berth is about 40” wide (a little more than 3 feet) by 6’ long (maybe 75” but no more than that).  There is a small fan to move air at each end of the berth and there are port hole shaped mirrors at each end as well (about 8” in diameter).

 

There is a berth beneath me.  He actually has a window he can see out of.  Lower berths are more expensive.

 

There are two lights in my berth, one on each end on the wall.  I’m using one just now to see while I write this.

 

This contraption folds up during the day.  There is a steel frame that my bed hangs on.  It is a little under six feet to the floor, not too high but high enough to hurt yourself if you fall off the ladder.

 

There is an aisle between the berths and people walk through to get to the dining car, or the “park”(bar) car.  We have never been game people and I suspect we are somewhat anti-social as a result.  There is a “game” car as well.

 

I think some people enjoy the confinement.  I don’t, but on the other hand these times early in the morning when I can be alone with myself hold some appeal.  Perhaps it is a return to the womb.

 

The train is stopped.  I wonder if we’ll get home on schedule?  There’s no WIFI on this train.  Did I already say that?

Sorry –

 

It’s the last day on this #2 train.  I’m still not sleeping well and I keep drifting off.  We are going through mostly evergreen forest.  There are a lot of lakes and rivers on this part of the journey.  I’ve been getting a lot of background from people, mostly Canadians.  I have talked to Aaron, my bunkmate (he’s in the lower bunk).  I may have mentioned that he is a lawyer from Duluth, MN.

 

I still feel alienated from most of the passengers even though I’ve had conversations, apparently, I’m just not all that interesting.  Maybe no one except Claire.

 

I was looking for animals in the forest, and I see quite a few tracks, but haven’t actually seen any live animals.  I want to write some new songs for us to sing.  I don’t have enough privacy to write on this journey.  Well --  I can write, just can’t make any noise.

 

You wouldn’t know

How down I feel

You couldn’t know how far I could fall

I couldn’t tell you

Couldn’t find the words

Even if I could

I know I’d never be heard

 

I’s a blue, blue being

A blue, blue feeling

In this darkness where I dwell

 

Listening to my thoughts

I thought I’d left behind

Talking to the sky inside my head

Trying to find my way

Not knowing that I’m lost

Why I feel so lone in this room

 

Wandering through the fairgrounds

Watch jugglers balls get tossed

Green, and blue and red

 

Running down a skyway

Of a past I’d left behind

Tripping on a day

And what I thought you’d said

If I can’t be myself

Please tell me

Who else can I be?

Thursday, February 27^th

 

We are not riding on the City of New Orleans.  In fact we are headed from Niagara to NYC, expected to arrive in the nine o’clock hour sometime. 

 

We had a nice time in Toronto.  Kristi and I had hum bao in a Chinese restaurant for lunch (or brunch), and we had dinner in a genuinely Italian restaurant for dinner.  Their menu was in Italian and I didn’t know what I was ordering.  It had dandelion greens, and sausage, but I didn’t quite catch the Italian words.  I turned out to be mac and cheese, which I would never have ordered.  It was OK though and Kristi gave me some of her pizza.  Comfort food.  When we were in Vancouver we went to a ramen restaurant, which I would generally never do, but it was a nice place and David, Kristi and I were impressed with the ambiance of the place.  The ramen was original (or I thought so), and quite tasty.  The Italian restaurant was named Sud Forno, and had good (not great) ambiance but we had walked far enough, and we enjoyed ourselves.

 

When we found the Italian restaurant, we were looking for a South American restaurant that we had found on a directory at Eaton Center, a three story (or near as I could tell) mall with a glass ceiling.  It looked like the restaurant was at the far end of the mall from where the directory was located.  I figured we could walk the length of any mall around so we set off down the mall.  It was a lot longer than I anticipated, and when we got to the end the directory there made it clear that the restaurant was not actually in the mall, but someplace down the street from the end of the mall.

There was construction going on so when we walked out of the mall, we were alongside a long plywood wall concealing the construction area in the street.  We followed that until the end of the construction, and finally we found the restaurant, which was clearly in a state of remodeling, and quite closed.  That’s how we found Sud Forno.  It was about two blocks from the restaurant we had been searching for.

 

We had made a trip to CN tower between brunch and dinner.  We grabbed a cab to get us there.  From 1975 to 2009 it was the tallest structure in the world.  It really gave us a perspective on how large a city Toronto is.  It is BIG!  You couldn’t see beyond the limits of the city from the tower.  There is a nice view of Lake Ontario from the tower, and it looks just like an ocean from there, certainly larger than any lake I’d seen previously.  We bought a few souvenirs in the

gift shop at the base of the tower.  From there we caught a cab back to our hotel.  On the way back to the Pantages Hotel we had a nice talk with our cab driver, a Nigerian immigrant to Ontario.  He said he had a hard time getting to having a living wage for quite a while after he came to Canada, but seemed pretty happy with his life as it now stands.  He said he lives a humble life, cooking for his family, and apparently making more money.  I didn’t ask him if he had other jobs besides driving a cab.

 

As we travel through New York State I can’t help but think of our old friend John Bartles who we met through a compilation album we were both part of.  He had come out to Washington and just showed up on our front porch one day.  Then a year or so later, Kristi and I made a trip east and stayed with him in Buffalo.

 

He had explained that he suffered from schizophrenia, but most of the time he was OK.  He was a prolific, and quite funny songwriter.  He used a variety of musicians on his recordings which were well produced on the whole.  He asked us for a favor  - to sell some books for him  -  and we turned him down.  In his disappointment, we never heard from him again.  I still have the red beret he gave me, although it has become a bit motheaten over the years.

 

Sometimes I struggle with a question of what people think I should be.  I don’t know if everyone has a hard time discerning what is real, and what is not real.  Then there’s the question of who has the most accurate conception of reality  -  as an artist one can express realities that do not exist, realities, that do exist, and realities that are too real to acknowledge, and the most mundane realities.

 

I stop to have a drink

From the sparkling clear water

I dance along the trail

Express the joy that’s in my heart

Here I’ve come to love

My playtime in the mountains

My time away from home

A time to walk out of the dark

 

It’s one foot forward

A climb into the heights

It’s another foot forward

I walk out of the night

To my playtime in the mountains

Clean air, sparkling water fountains

How I’ve come to love this time

This time of playtime in the mountains

 

Winter/summer/get way from work

 

You see the rented, broken remnants

Of a life led in his past

Winnipeg and Thinking Through the Night

 

February 24^th – after midnight of the 23rd

 

I’m awake after going to bed early.  Its’ just coming up on 1am.  I guess it’s the 23^rd.  The conversations I had with people yesterday (or today depending on perspective) are frightening me.  There is a revolution brewing and I just kind of skirt around it with meaningless words.

 

I found myself a bit beside myself in these conversations with Clare.  We were talking about what may happen with the rightwing US government and I kept finding myself circling around to violence . . . It’s not like I want to see violence, because genuinely I don’t.  On the other hand it seems inevitable that there will be a violent outfall from the current politic in the US, and I feel like I want the future to just arrive so I can see if I’m correct in my assumptions.  The idea of non-violent demonstrations being effective rides on there being something of a rule of law in effect – a sense of morality that it would appear is lacking in the current raft of conservative politics.  This is to say that large scale demonstrations will likely be met with cold, hard murder on the part of the current government.  I have predicted that the Trump administration will at some point turn to assassination to destroy their opposition.  They’ve made it clear that they will use the justice system to kick the legs out from under any opposition, and have in fact begun to do so.

 

Rightwing optimists are convinced that this kind of behavior will not happen, and maybe because everyone is rolling over and ignoring all legal precedent they will simply gain control by walking over everyone  -  ignoring the rule of law as they are right now.

 

I’m facing this reality and I’m having emotional difficulties as a result.

 

Now it’s going on 2am.  I’m over the pretense that it is still yesterday and have accepted the fact that it is now Monday, February 24^th.

 

I can’t say that I’m a fan of rail travel (must I really say this again?).  Maybe I should hold off on a concrete judgement until I’ve savored the entire experience.  I’m writing this in a berth.  It reminds me of when I was a child and I could be under the covers, or in a box, or in a hollow stump of a tree and I would be on a ship, or airplane, or maybe a special conveyance of my own design.

 

I think that this mode of travel is a vehicle for fantasy.  This “Via Rail” has no WIFI, television, or they could conceivably put sound systems with ear buds like on airplanes.  Instead, they have Bingo, movie night, talks about the provinces we are passing through. 

 

My berth just barely allows me to lie down.  Also, all of my possessions are in the berth with me once again utilizing space that would be more comfortable without it.  We stop for hours waiting for freight trains to pass.  Now that we are through the Rockies the landscapes are flat and white with snow.

 

As far as people go, I’m a stranger in a strange land.  People are willing enough to have conversations, and I’m foolish enough to just shoot off my big mouth and right now I’m convinced that I am indeed from a different planet than everyone else here.  It’s not that I’m surprised, but there is a certain disappointment.

 

One of the difficulties of not sleeping when everyone else is is the fact that there will be no place for me to take a nap later after they have put my berth away.  Oh!  And did I mention it’s illegal for us to make music here?  “Mama don’t lau no guitar playin’ ‘round here!”  And neither does the main activities director, Martin  --  oh well  -  we broke the rules and I just hope he doesn’t kick us off the train  - even though I’m not particularly enthused about being on it.  Like I say, I don’t think the train is particularly enthused having me on it, although people have so far tolerated me and my big mouth.

 

Oh.  And about Claire Coulter -  she explained to me that capitalism is the only financial system that will work.  She may be working for the CIA although she claims to be a fan of Amy Goodman, and says she lives in Montreal.

https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0183504/?ref_=fn_all_nme_1

Oh well.  Our instruments sound like hell anyway.

 

It’s 4 below zero

The snow is coming down

I’d have sworn I saw your face in a window

As our train rolled through town

 

You know I had to leave you

Like the times I left you before

Now your face is in every window

Ever since I walked out your door

 

Like so many times before

Put a candle in your window

Don’t change the locks on your front door

 

It’s four below zero

The snow is falling down

I see your face in every window

As the train rolled through that last town

 

It’s only 10:30pm  --  If I’m not mistaken we’re supposed to change our clocks forward another hour before we go to sleep.

I managed to have a short talk with Clare in Winnipeg and we were going to have dinner with her but it didn’t work out.  I was disappointed as I really want to get to know her better.  We found out that she is a professional actress.  She had a mild resistance to telling us that but is proud of the fact that she is still working.  I would guess that she’s quite a bit older than me, although I would have no confidence I would guess her age correctly.  I’ll get her last name by tomorrow.

 

Train through Edmonton - Winnipeg Destination Toronto

 

February 23^rd, 2025 – train to Toronto

 

It’s been an intense day for me.  I started the day in depression.  We skipped breakfast.  I had bought a bag of peanuts in Jasper and I finished them in bed last night.  I haven’t had a shower yet, and have been sleeping in my clothes which I think I will continue to do.

 

My Berth

I’ve been reading “Blue Mars”, the last book in the Mars trilogy by Kim Stanley Robinson.  I continue to be amazed at his science, and the relationship of capitalism to almost everything.  I’m just barely into this last book in the trilogy but enjoying it immensely.

Kristi in Her Berth

We met a woman at lunch who we had a political discussion with.  It turned out to be quite emotional for me.  Her name is Clare Coulter, and she is from Montreal.  I found the subject matter, namely US politics to be quite disturbing as there really seems to be no path that will stop #47 from turning the US into an oligarchic authoritarian regime. 

 

On one of her trips to our berthing area my bunkmate Aaron asked Kristi if we would join him to make some music.  He had a ukulele he had shown me so we went back to our berthing area and ended up playing for probably 45 minutes.  We had been told in no uncertain terms that for us playing on the train was strictly verboten, but we broke the rules.  I hope they don’t fine us or kick us off of the train.  I watched Marty, our berth captain (so to speak) make our beds tonight.  I had seen him perched on a bunk ladder before but I hadn’t watched the entire process before.  He makes a somewhat complex and physically energetic process look relatively smooth, if not easy.  Our bed isn’t the only one he has to make up. 

 

Last night the train was held up in Edmonton.  We were in one of the observation cars watching as the train went forward, then backed up, then went forward again.  It was quite a long process.  There are people on the train who are fascinated with every aspect of railroading.  I call them “trainiacs”.  If I’m honest, I don’t have all that much interest and am having to find entertainment on the journey.  I’m thankful that I brought a good book with me to read.  David G. made it clear to me before we embarked on this journey that the people would be the most interesting part of the journey, and sure enough, they are.

I’ve been on an emotional edge all day ready to start weeping at the drop of a hat.  I’m unsure whether this is a good or a bad thing.

 

Just to remind myself – the theme for the Tumbleweed Music Festival is “Play Time”.  Perhaps this is playtime so the song shouldn’t be all that difficult to write.  Ju just need to not wait until the last few days to do the work.

 

Talk about weather

Talk about snow

Talk about your politics

See which way the wind blows

 

You’re lookin’ at me

You seem a little cold

So you talk about the weather

That subject never gets old

 

Talk about the folks

You saw on Granville Street

Talk a little slow

About the people you meet

Talk into a microphone

You better speak loud

Because you’re not just talkin’ to me

Now you’re talkin’ to a crowd

Granville talkin’

Granville will see

We’re talkin’ to the junkies

And the trainiacs

Someday I’ll take a train away

I’ll never come back

We Are In Toronto

 

 We are in Toronto.  It was a long rail journey to get here.  I'm unsure of my opinion of rail travel just now.  I didn't think the travel itself was a barrel of monkeys.  The company we kept was good, and I enjoyed many conversations with people.  

I felt confined on the train.  I guess there was quite a bit of room, but generally I was sitting most of the time and, really, there weren't many places to go, and the places you could go on the train were relatively uniform.  There was some good scenery going over the Rockies, but after that it was often flat and white with snow.  There were an impressive number of frozen lakes that we passed in Manitoba and Ontario.

It was interesting changing crews.  I thought that the most glaring difference was in the food.  The chef from our first leg was much more into the aesthetics of food preparation, and the next chef was much more into being sure there was enough food on our plates.  The food was OK.  I suspect that they got the desserts in bulk from some bakery or other, but they were all premium quality.

Here is Kristi in Jasper, BC.  We stopped there for an hour, bought a few things and didn't understand that you couldn't get back on the train until they were ready for you.  No big deal.  We got back on the train and only waited in the Jasper waiting room for about a half hour or so.

Day 2 on the train to Toronto

  I'm not sure whether I need to mention what day it is, but perhaps just to remind myself.  It's only the second day on this self indulgent journey.  I am only starting my day so don't know exactly what is going to transpire, although we do have a plan.  At any rate we are following the path of the rail journey planner who has us visiting a city iconic tower, but really nothing else so we are going to seek out the city art gallery as well.  It's not 8am yet and we have until 2:30pm to kill.

I know that if I mention where I am to someone my age, they are going to regale me with their last journey to Paris, Rome, Florida etc.  I have heard so many people now talk about their travels as though they were some kind of accomplishment.  The other side of that is travel because I earned the privilege.  I feel like I'm kind of alone in my assessment of travel as unnecessary indulgence.  There is no doubt that the way we are traveling now is a product of capitalism and I think, not much else.  It appeals to an emptiness that people seem to feel in their everyday lives, scratches an itch as it were.  This definitely is not luxury travel at this point.  I'll have more to say about this later.

OK.  It's day two and this is what I wrote by hand.  We had a few drinks on the train last night and talked to a few people.  There are not a lot of people here that have anything in common with us other than they are our fellow humans.

I still find this mode of travel to be a crashing bore and often lacking in comfort.

We have just been stopped for a freight train to pass, and now we are moving again.  Our next stop is Edmonton.  We were just in Jasper, which suffered a burn last summer.  From what I understand, about half of the population there lost their homes.

David G. has talked himself into a roomette.  Last night like us, he was in a berth.  I can't imagine something like that happening to us.  We wish him the best.  

We have only gotten the guitars out once.  We just played  few songs to find out what things would sound like on a train.  One of the passengers has asked us to ply tonight so we may sing a few songs.  I'm never certain how things will work out in such a circumstance. There are few electric outlets to charge a bluetooth speaker, or a phone but I did charge my phone in Jasper at the train station.

There is no wifi on the train, which makes the entire journey into something of a throwback.  Apparently the cares on this train were manufactured in 1955.

I slept through quite a bit of British Columbia last night.  Now we are in Alberta in the Canadian Rockies.  My bag was stuck under the bottom bunk.  I slept in my clothes.

The word is official that we are not allowed to play on the train at all - at least when we are in Canada.  They would let us play if we apply for a program that they have, and of course we would have to be Canadian to apply.  If we were Canadian, and we passed their vetting they would give us free passage on the trains we were playing on.  It was an interesting idea to bring guitars with us.  I'm just glad that they are miniature instruments and easy to carry.

Personally a lot of the reason for bringing instruments was very simply to keep us playing and not lose our edge.  We may be pretty rough when we get back from not playing for 2 weeks.

I'm a little depressed, partly from the alcohol I consumed on the first night but I also feel very alien.  My ideas are not found to be acceptable in most common company although in many congregations my ideas would be commonplace.

The forests that we've been going through are much thinner than the forests on the coast.  Of course we are in the Rocky Mountains so altitude, as well as precipitation have a lot to do with the appearance of the forest and plant life.