Dog Gone Greyhound

[daveklepper]

I'm still wondering how she was allowed to board without a companion, where was the wheelchair (checked baggage or in the coach), and just what did happen?

I don't think it is wise for me to recommend discontinuance of any long distance train, but I can point out that the Texas Eagle does not perform as well as the Southwest Chief, neither does the Sunset Limited, and then leave it at that.  Further commenets in the next fiew hours appreciated.

Even a transit authority is in the hospitality business.  Even a commuter railrioad.  One should not feel like he or she is riding a prisoners' train.  And most of us have had that unfortunate experience at least once in our train riding.

[daveklepper]

On this hospitality business, here is a story from the pen of my fellow MIT and ROTC classmate (he served in Europe during Korea) and fellow American Israeli, Larry Lewin:

 LEN AND ROSE FIND AN APARTMENT
>
>          In the Spring of 1958 Len and Rose took a day off and drove from
> Ithaca , the scene of their courtship, to Geneva , where the NY State
> Agricultural Experiment Station stands. Len had started his PhD research
> there with Dr Gunderson. It should take another year to finish. The couple
> (it was hard for him to really believe that they would soon be a couple)
> would have to find a place to rent for that time. They had circled ads in
> the Geneva Times for what might be suitable accommodations. Their first stop
> was at a farmhouse just out of town.
>
>  The farmer was waiting as they drove up. The house was white clapboard,
> just like conventional farmhouses on Xmas cards. A pitchfork leaned against
> the wall at a crazy angle. A pile of manure stood, cone-shaped, in the
> middle of the lawn.
>
>          "Hi," the farmer said, "I hope that you had a pleasant drive from
> Ithacky."
>
>          He spit a wad of tobacco juice on the lawn. (At least I hope that
> it was tobacco juice. If it was saliva then he was a very sick
> man.)
>
>          "Come with me. " he said, "I'll show you the place. The rooms was
> let to an airforce couple until they moved down to Texas somewheres."
>
>          They were shepherded into a narrow corridor and up a stairway. The
> outside windows were grimy and the stairs uncarpeted.
>
>          "Here it is!" he said, as he opened a door. They looked into a
> large, sunny room with a rag rug spread on the floor between a sofa, an
> overstuffed chair and a floor lamp. He entered and looked back at the young
> couple.
>
>          "Through here's the bedroom."
>
>          There was another door that led to another sunny room sparely
> furnished with a double bed, an old chest of drawers, with an empty closet
> open to show us how capacious it was.
>
>          "And the kitchen?" Rose asked.
>
>          "It's off the living room. I'll show you."
>
>          The kitchen wasn't the large kind you associate with a farmhouse.
> It was a little kitchenette, an afterthought the farmer had added when he
> had decided to rent out the apartment. Rose didn't look pleased.
>
>          "And the bathroom?" Len asked, feeling that he should show a
> masculine interest in the facilities.
>
>          "That's out in the hall." the farmer said, shamefacedly, "You'll
> have to share that with the hired man. He has a room off the hall there."
>
>          Rose and Len looked at each other, then at the farmer.
>
>          "Thanks for showing us the place." Len said, "We'll call you for
> further details after we've looked around a little more -- if we're
> interested."
>
>          When they had gotten into the car Rose asked, "Did you smell that
> manure?"
>
>          Len nodded.
>
>          "And did you see the cow patty on the driveway?" he asked. "How
> would you like to come home on a dark night and step into that?"
>
>          "Well, it was a kind of a city girl's dream, living on a farm."
> Rose said softly, and then she laughed and then, "Imagine sharing a shower
> with the hired man!"
>
>          The next apartment on the list was on the periphery of the town,
> near the Experiment Station. When they rang the bell the owner, a retired
> Experiment Station worker, was glad for their company. He was a garrulous
> old fellow and he gave them the inside info on the rental situation, much to
> his own disadvantage. Until the Air Force base had closed down it was hard
> to find a place to live anywhere nearby. People had rented out any storeroom
> they could put an old bed in. Now the situation had changed for the worse
> (from the landlord's point of view). Rents had dropped drastically and there
> were lots of places on the market. The old fellow was nice but his apartment
> wasn't. It was dark and gloomy and Len'spracticed biologist's eye detected

> rat droppings in the kitchen. The old man was pathetically glad for their

> company and didn't want to let them go but they had a schedule to adhere to
> if they were going to find a place that day.
>
>          It became a discouraging search. They checked off apartment after
> apartment, each seemingly more broken down than the last. When they thought
> they might have to call that farmer after all, they arrived at the Braun's
> house. It was on Main Street and had a nice, middle class look about it.
> Mrs. Braun was a tall, thin elderly lady with a pince nez and a forbidding
> expression. She interviewed them in her parlor. When she learned that Len
> was a PhD candidate at Cornell she nodded, signifying that they qualified
> for being given a look at the quarters that she and her late husband had
> fixed up above their own. She led them up the stairs (which were newly
> carpeted) and took out a key which opened the door to a freshly painted
> living room, clean and equipped with nicely upholstered furniture, unlike
> the sprung, broken backed monstrosities they had been shown elsewhere. The
> kitchen was small but modern, the bedroom large and airy.
>
>          The place was perfect but how much would it cost? They couldn't
> afford much on the $4500/yr that Len's assistantship and GI bill benefits
> would give them. He tried to act like a man of the world used to bargaining
> but he ended up asking resignedly what the rent would be. Surprisingly it
> was the same sum that the owners of the ramshackle apartments had demanded.
> This was a real find! Len tried to hide his excitement when he said that
> they'd take it. Mrs. Braun was no more subtle than they were. She took out a
> rental contract, looked at it through her pince nez, and pointed out where
> they should sign. She was willing to allow them to store whatever they
> wished for the month until they came to occupy it and she almost forgot to
> get them to leave a deposit as a tender of their seriousness.
>
> When they left the house Rose let out a chirp of joy. Len gave her a firm
> kiss and hug.  This wasn't a dream. They really were going to live together
> as husband and wife. They had an address. Now they ought to go out to
> celebrate!

[daveklepper]

The old man was pathetically glad for their
> company and didn't want to let them go but they had a schedule to adhere to
> if they were going to find a place that day.
>
>          It became a discouraging search. They checked off apartment after
> apartment, each seemingly more broken down than the last. When they thought
> they might have to call that farmer after all, they arrived at the Braun's
> house. It was on Main Street and had a nice, middle class look about it.
> Mrs. Braun was a tall, thin elderly lady with a pince nez and a forbidding
> expression. She interviewed them in her parlor. When she learned that Len
> was a PhD candidate at Cornell she nodded, signifying that they qualified
> for being given a look at the quarters that she and her late husband had
> fixed up above their own. She led them up the stairs (which were newly
> carpeted) and took out a key which opened the door to a freshly painted
> living room, clean and equipped with nicely upholstered furniture, unlike
> the sprung, broken backed monstrosities they had been shown elsewhere. The
> kitchen was small but modern, the bedroom large and airy.
>
>          The place was perfect but how much would it cost? They couldn't
> afford much on the $4500/yr that Len's assistantship and GI bill benefits
> would give them. He tried to act like a man of the world used to bargaining
> but he ended up asking resignedly what the rent would be. Surprisingly it
> was the same sum that the owners of the ramshackle apartments had demanded.
> This was a real find! Len tried to hide his excitement when he said that
> they'd take it. Mrs. Braun was no more subtle than they were. She took out a
> rental contract, looked at it through her pince nez, and pointed out where
> they should sign. She was willing to allow them to store whatever they
> wished for the month until they came to occupy it and she almost forgot to
> get them to leave a deposit as a tender of their seriousness.
>
> When they left the house Rose let out a chirp of joy. Len gave her a firm
> kiss and hug.  This wasn't a dream. They really were going to live together
> as husband and wife. They had an address. Now they ought to go out to
> celebrate!
>
>

[charlie hebdo]

What does your post have to do with busses or trains or current times? 

[daveklepper]

I think most readers understood the parallel beween broken-down, poor-service trains and broken-down poorly-maintained apartments.  Sorry if you do not.

Hope to learn others' response.

[charlie hebdo]

I understood what you were attempting in your long post but it is a poor analogy.  If you were looking for a parallel in the hospitality business, Howard Johnson's would have been more pertinent. 

[daveklepper]

Possibly, but where is the happy ending?

[Overmod]

daveklepper

Possibly, but where is the happy ending?

List the changes that would be necessary at Amtrak to bring it about (comparable to the example in the story).  We've already discussed several severe difficulties.  I'm tempted to note that better vetting, training, and supervision are prerequisites in a number of vital senses, even for commodity-level "hospitality"...

Once the problems with the culture are fixed, we can start addressing how the deck chairs are best arranged, and so forth.

[daveklepper]

100 percent correct.  I agree with you  completely, and that is exactly the point I wished to make with my story.

One step necessary for any business to be successful is to use its opportunities and facilties constructively.  I am certain my station resdtaurant scheme can turn a money sinkhole into a profit center.

In my letter to Anderson, I do point out that even a dark railroad, one dispatched only by train orders, is still safer than any public highway.  (Without specifically meantioning the idea of a "bus bridge.")

I hope that starts him thinking about just what he had been doing.

Positivity has to start at the top.

And again, today's bsby boomers will be tomorrow's senior citizens and there will be a lot more of them.

[daveklepper]

Ditto other aspects of their operations:  What does it cost to attatch a private car to a train at a terminal?  Then how much more at an intermediate station where  probably a freight railroad will be involved?  Or at an intermediate point on the NEC?   Then don't refuse the business, just publish what the appropraite price is to more than break even. 

[charlie hebdo]

Call me a cynic,  but in the current climate,  Amtrak is beyond repair.  Fundamentals need to be changed,  such as funding on a longer basis,  personnel,  and dedicated ROWs,  thanks name three. 

[daveklepper]

David Gunn or Reistrup could be doing it if alive and active today.  But you have to believe in the product to sell it.   Including selling it to law makers.  Including selling it to Trump, even.

There are also parallels with our situation here in the Mideast, if anyone wishes to contact me at [e-mail].  And, yes, railroads are a critical part of the solution.