Getting Railed

 I used to ride Amtrak alot. Despite the constant tardiness, middle of the night departure times, and getting dropped off in the worst neighborhoods in major metropolises; it is still more comfortable and relaxing than flying. Fuck flying. Hate it. How often do you hear of a derailment versus a plane crash? About 1 to 10. Plus train seating is super comfy, you can walk around without someone thinking you are a terrorist, and you won't die because some idiot forgot to de-ice the train.

The fares used to be way cheaper than flying. But post 9-11, with people trying to not die via religious fanatics hijacking their shit, it has become not so cheap. I get that. Recently I went on their website to see what fares were these days. Outrageous. Then I checked the pet policy. Apparently, you can have a service animal accompany you. But not, the following:

Comfort animals. This includes psychiatrist parrots, Lassie or frogs that you lick for psychotropic effects.

Pets. According to them, this means any animal which performs no specific function. This would apply to children in my book.
Search and rescue dogs. Yeah...no chance you'll need them after the train hits an acorn and spills out all over the Tennessee valley.
Police dogs- unless approved by the Amtrak police. Amtrak police means as much to me as stadium security. Formerly homeless people given baths and badges to walk around somewhere and do nothing.

Here's a good Amtrak story. One night in 2002, I stopped in New Orleans en route to Fort Myers, Florida. I had a four hour layover, so I took a cab down to the French Quarter. After hanging out there, I came back to discover my train would be another four hours away. It's midnight and I'm in the Amtrak/ Greyhound station. And you know what Greyhound means. Bus people. It was a nightmare. I had to keep moving away from some guy who had a bunch of garbage bags that kept trying to sit by me. And some other young hooligan wanted to sell me pot in the bathroom. I couldn't get out of there soon enough. I was so late however, that I was going to miss my connecting train in Orlando. So I hopped off at Tallahassee(in the hood, natch) and rented a car to go the rest of the way. Some real Amazing Race shit. And this was before smartphones!

Anyhow, I hope one day to ride the rails again like an old timey hobo. "Boxcar Blogger" will be my handle. And I'll whip up some of my famous hobo chili using secret hobo spices. That line is from something, but I can't remember what.