Ridin' the Rails, Part II: Sleepy Joe's Revenge

 

To read part one, click here

After spending the night in New Orleans it was time to take the Sunset Limited in the morning. I wish I could've stayed longer to debauch myself, but at least I had a fairly decadent bed. The New Orleans station is small, but they did have a waiting area for us special sleeping car passengers. While it was no Metropolitan Lounge, they did have a coffee pot and some baked goods, which were mostly still in their packaging.

Guess what's behind the doors? If you said gambling, you were right.

Alas, the roomette was not as interesting as the one I had aboard the Crescent. There was no toilet near my bed, no hidden sink for me to use for my ablutions. The way the bed folded down also meant I could not turn it into an Amtrak-Style folding desk. But there were some differences in my favor. The dining car was open. That meant eating in style, with three course meals while watching the country go by. More importantly, the Sunset Limited has an observation car. It was where I spent most of my time when I was not using my sleeping car for sleep.

Laptop case for scale

Half of the time it was packed with Mennonites speaking Pennsylvania Dutch to one another while filling out coloring books

The observation cars, like the whole train, had no wi-fi (it puts the "limited" in the Sunset Limited) but they had outlets spread through the area. I spent my time at the tables but you can sit in one of the seats and imagine yourself on the deck of a spaceship. One that is hovering very low to the ground for some reason. The tables were a rare commodity. I had to park myself at one early and the day and stay there until lunch, if I wanted any chance of a place to spread out and work. For passengers not using the sleeping cars, they provided an area to eat. Under this level, the Sunset Limited keeps its regular café area. Normally the seating around it would be open too, but because of Covid it was closed off.

As mentioned above, the meals were more elaborate. Unlike my past trip on the Empire Builder, everybody sat by themselves while eating. I can't say if this was a good or bad thing. Last time I did meet some interesting people from North Dakota, but there were also plenty of silent meals. Some people just aren't talkers. Especially if they haven't had their morning coffee or their evening whiskey. The dining cars are only for the sleeper car passengers and while I sat in the observation deck I watched the other riders curiously wander over, only to be turned back time and time again. I imagine it wasn't too bad for them. The staff were friendly while waiting on me. 

Lobster Cake: I thought it was good, a nice amuse bouche in a sense before the main course

The steak was decent, I normally don't eat much of it to be honest let alone in a brown sauce. But it was a nice cut and the vegetables were well done. I enjoyed the polenta it came with as well. 

The desserts were probably the best thing on the menu

The French Toast was good, but then again it's a hard dish to mess up. It didn't taste eggy, which is a plus. Not pictured: a side of breakfast sausage I ordered

A simple lunch, I got a grilled cheese sandwich with bacon. It was advertised as "artisanal" but, anyway, it was bacon. Pictured: wine. The choices are limited, but when the view is great, who cares?

The cheesecake. For some reason I forgot to get a picture of the carrot cake, which was my favorite on the trip.

There were some ethnic options. They had tortellini (which I avoided since I make enough of it in NYC) and a tamale. It was good, and the salsa verde was a nice addition.

The chicken. Yes, it looks like the steak. But notice, no potato! I liked it. The sauce was better than the one that came with the steak.

The Sunset Limited took me past Lake Charles, Houston, and San Antonio. I went over the Mississippi, and saw Cajun Country. Refineries and above-ground graves sat side by side. The swamps and bayous gradually gave way to the plains. Cattle and horses grazed on them. Neither seemed startled by us. Yes, I ate my steak while looking at them. 

The depressingly small Houston train station

I woke up in the big bend of the Rio Grande. Now things were arid and the ground rough and rocky. Cacti and other desert plants dotted the landscape. Compared with my time on the Empire Builder (and at a similar longitude), the scenery was more engaging. 

The titular mountain. The title itself I forget, but it was obviously titular

It was like being in a Western, in part because even the cell service was down now. We went by Marfa, but saw no lights. A couple of hours later, I understood just how big Texas was. Thirty minutes after that, we were in El Paso. 

El Paso, where all the Mennonites on the train got off.

There's a woman who comes by to sell burritos to the passengers. She's got enough renown in these parts to get an announcement from the crew when the train pulls into the station. I wasn't able to get one, but wandered through the station instead. Compared to Houston it's much nicer and spacious. However like Houston there's nothing inside of it. All of the extra levels are occupied by an architectural college. 

We were somewhere near Lordsburg, NM when the wine began to take hold and I took a nap

The Sunset Limited made its way out of Texas and into New Mexico, followed by Arizona. The clouds were just as impressive as the brown rock formations. There were salt flats as well, which seemed to mirror the white of all the nimbuses above us. I had my final meals of the journey near Tucson, entering the heart of the Gadsden Purchase. As I slept, the train rolled on. It took me and the other passengers over the Colorado River and past Yuma, Arizona. I actually woke up at this point because it was so damn hot outside. 93 degrees at 1 in the morning. 

But I fell back asleep and when I woke up, we were on the outskirts of Los Angeles. Palm Springs, then Ontario, and finally Randy Newman's favorite city. We were an hour late, which I was actually thankful for. Usually one wants to be on time. Yet the train normally gets in at 5:30 in the morning. This way I could arrive with more sunlight (despite the name of the route I was on). The Sunset Limited pulled into Union Station and I grabbed my things. it was all off-board now and they like to make quick sweep of things. As a whole, Union Station might be the nicest in the system. Shame that at 7 AM there's no place to eat except a Starbucks, a place hardly known for its food and only somewhat acknowledged for its drinks. 

Ridin' the Rails, Part I

Last week I embarked on another cross-country journey across this country's rails. No, I didn't pack up my bindle and hop on board a cattle car like a hobo in search of adventure and vittles. Instead, I took the Amtrak from New York to Los Angeles, by way of New Orleans. From New to New and LA to LA. The first leg of the journey was on the Crescent. It took me along the first 1,377 miles (2,216 km) of the trip, through Philadelphia, DC, Atlanta, Birmingham, and Meridian, Mississippi. 

It all started at Moynihan Train Hall. This is the new waiting area for Amtrak passengers. Although part of Penn Station, it is housed in the former Post Office building that used to be next to Madison Square Garden. No more huddling in a bunker, waiting for announcements, or wandering with bags in a circle trying to find the Primo Cappuccino you swear is different than the three others in the station. 

As you can see, it is a much more spacious facility. There weren't a ton of options for food and drink set up yet. However, that was not of much particular concern to me because on this trip I was one of Amtrak's very special passengers. part of the elite, the elect, the chosen. Since I was taking a sleeper car, I had the privilege of hanging out in the Metropolitan Lounge. Situated on the second floor, it had space for me to spread out, store my luggage, grab a few complimentary bites to eat, and surf the web.

Amtrak Valhalla, where only the bravest and least claustrophobic travelers go

I recommend the provolone and fig sandwich

Ha! Peasants! Ha! Look up my free bag of chips and despair!

They called my train number and I went down into the bowels of Penn Station. While the entryway where I made my descent was changed, the actual platforms where the trains pull up are the same.

My roomette was interesting. It was a different setup than the one I used on the Empire Builder last time I took the train across this great land of ours. 

Looking at it reminded me of the Skylab exhibit at the Air and Space Museum

You can't say they don't use every available inch of space on the train. One of the steps leading to the top bunk opens up and underneath is a toilet. That's right, folks, you can do your business while watching the country fly right by you. You can do it while going through the woods at night, or as the train passes over a river. You can even do it while looking at people stuck in traffic down below.

The light is not as ominous as the picture makes it out to be

And above it is the sink. Good for washing of hands and drinking of cups of water. There were other watering holes on board as well. But, for sleeper car passengers these are the bathroom facilities, right in the roomette for your convenience and possible slight embarrassment. The showers are outside, shared by the neighborhood. Other amenities in the roomette: a table that pulled out, as a bunk to be pulled down, and another that I formed by sliding out the seats.

The table that folds out isn't big enough for a standard laptop

I found the secret storage rack! 

We pulled out of Penn Station and started to head south and west away from the city. The first stops on the Crescent were all familiar to me since I go between DC and NY on the train quite frequently. There was nothing drastically new to see while this part of the country flew by. I took a leak while looking out at the Meadowlands, so that was a change of pace from usual. It wasn't until the train left Union Station that I got to see a new side of America. Now I got to experience going over the Potomac in a passenger car and the sight of the Alexandria, Virginia station. 

Playing hide-and-go-seek with the Capitol

They do feed you on the train and the food and soft drinks are complimentary. For my first meal I had the shrimp and andouille sausage creole, in honor of my first destination: New Orleans. 

I watched Chinatown in honor of my second destination

I had eggs for breakfast, and for my second lunch I went with the vegan/vegetarian option of enchiladas. I can't speak for the sourcing of the materials (especially the rolls or what was used for the cheese) but they tasted good. 

The salads come with two dressings: ranch and Italian.
Oh, and you get a free alcoholic drink on the train. 

You spend roughly a day and a half on the train and get into New Orleans at night. That meant one more dinner. I went with the chicken marsala. It was fine. Overall I rank the enchiladas first, the marsala second, and the creole last. To accompany it, I bought a glass of white wine.

During my time on the Crescent, I found myself contorting myself in all manner of positions, surprised at how limber I still am. It felt like playing around in jungle gyms, Discovery Zones, and ball pits as a child. One of my projects was to find a way to use my laptop on the train. As my previous picture shows, the table provided is good for playing chess but little else. To that end I developed a standing-desk, Amtrak style. I put the top bunk down, placed my laptop on top of the bunk, and stood on top of the cover for the toilet. 

Metro Card for scale

With a little innovation you too can transform your spaces to help with work and play! From this perch I watched Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi roll on by. Lots of lush landscapes, forests, glens, farms, paddocks, and some cities.

Like Birmingham, Alabama

Then as night fell, the Crescent went across Lake Pontchartrain (putting the "train" in Pontchartrain you can say) It was too bad that it was dark out and I couldn't see any of the water or the city or the other side. It's one of the issues with the long journeys on Amtrak. You can't time things just right so you see things when you want to. The train keeps going and stops when its wants. You're a passenger, along for the ride, surrendering your control, in exchange for the ability to stand on a toilet and write.

Eight Poems in Zombie Logic Review

One poem in Zombie Logic Review? No. Two poems in Zombie Logic Review? No. Three poems in Zombie Logic Review? No. Four poems in Zombie Logic Review? No. Five poems in Zombie Logic Review? No. Six poems in Zombie Logic Review? No. Seven poems in Zombie Logic Review? No. Eight poems in Zombie Logic Review? No. I mean, yes! Eight of my poems in Zombie Logic Review right here.

Heroes and Villains and Characters

The release of Selma has recently kicked off a minor controversy about the role of LBJ in the events surrounding the historic Civil Rights march. According to the movie, President Johnson is presented as something of a foil for the demonstrators, using the powers of his office to stymie, if not thwart it. In response, several historians, along with former officials in the Johnson administration have registered their objection to this portrayal. One in particular, Joseph Califano, even claims the march was largely Johnson’s idea. Normally such controversies can be reduced to the “truth being somewhere in the middle” synthesis. In this case however, we have two completely different portraits of LBJ which cannot be easily reconciled. On one hand he wants to prevent the Selma March.  On the other, he is actively instigating it, the pinnacle of the “outside agitator,” often blamed by Southern officials for stirring up African-Americans against Jim Crow.

I will leave it to the professional historians who have access to the record to settle the debate. Since I have not seen the film yet, I will also pass judgment on the cinematic qualities of LBJ’s role with the movie. For me, there is one idea I feel as qualified as anyone to tackle, the question of how accurate cultural depictions of history need to be. What responsibility, if any, is there towards figures from the past? Even if it were proved conclusively that LBJ assisted with the march, many critics might defend the portrayal of the president as an artistic license, or that historical films can shuffle the deck of established facts to their liking. I think this is a dangerous defense. Plenty of bad history has occurred because of bad history in art, music, literature, and film. One cannot imagine defending the biased portrayal of the South in Gone With the Wind on such grounds.

Of course, every artist has the right to depict the past as they wish, and of course they can also be criticized for the way they choose to do so. Perhaps it is an unfair burden, but the way the past is portrayed in art and popular culture does shape the way we look at history. Often it can even affect the way we see the present. Churchill is said to have once remarked that he learned his English history through Shakespeare’s plays and not textbooks. One might say that Selma is a special case, and that showing LBJ as an antagonist is a small price to pay for having a movie with Black actors and a director released to a wide audience.

In many cases this might be true. 12 Years a Slave was criticized by some for not showing a “good master.” Putting aside Benedict Cumberbatch’s character, who represents about as good a master could realistically be within the confines of the peculiar institution, I don’t think the film or its audience lost anything by not having this figure portrayed. The alleged good master has in fact had his day in the literature of the post-Bellum South. Plus, by showing up in 12 Years a Slave, it would have only weakened the message of the film, creating a distraction. At the end of the day, the good master still owned human beings and participated in their bondage, oppression, and exchange.  They were not the ones who brought an end to chattel slavery in America. Therefore, they do not deserve to be resurrected for the present.

However, Lyndon Baines Johnson is a much different case. He was not simply a president uninterested in the Civil Rights movement, or actively working to derail it. Johnson was, for all his complications and problems, a believer in equal rights between black and white Americans. His positions before becoming president aside, by the time of the film he was as firm a supporter of dismantling segregation as anyone in the White House before him. Depicting him as an antagonist of the march does him a disservice and ignores the political cost he was willing to pay for being pro-Civil Rights.

Does Slema need to be a hagiography of Johnson? No. For one very obvious reason, doing so would distract from the march and the bravery associated with it. A Selma dedicated to Johnson would depict him as a white knight coming to save the day, even if it is from those other white knights of the Ku Klux Klan. But turning him into a critic of the march and a foil for Dr. King is irresponsible for two main reasons.  The first is that it supports the canard of right-wing revisionists who want to paint the Democratic Party as uniform opponents of Civil Rights in order to promote their idea that because of what Lincoln did, black voters ought to vote Republican (an analysis that ignores the whole Lily White Movement under Taft.). The second is that is robs the viewer of seeing a politician putting principle over politics, which every movement for greater equality needs at some point. LBJ supported the work of King and others and helped pushed the Voting Rights Act through Congress in spite of the possibility of losing the Solid South (a possibility which later became true after the Reagan Revolution).

As I previously stated, Selma does not need to show LBJ as the secret hero of the march. I would further argue it does not need to show or mention LBJ at all. There are enough villains to depict among the local police, CCC, and Klan. I doubt a viewer watching the scenes of carnage on the Edmund Pettus Bridge is wondering where, oh where President Johnson is and what he is doing. Omitting an historical character can be a legitimate move and many historical films and books have used it to reasonable effect, since not every single person involved in an event can be portrayed. Cutting is always required. If accuracy has to be sacrificed to include someone, then it may be better to leave them out rather than engage in contortions of the historical record.

Historical fiction needs to take pains to make sure it does not become a fictional history, especially if doing so serves to provide ammunition for those who seek to do harm in the present. If the facts must be butchered for the sake of producing a work of art, then so be it, yet most films about historical events do not strive for such lofty goals.  More often than not, they wish to be educational, at the very least it guarantees a film a permanent shelf life for high school classes when the teacher needs time to catch up on grading. It is important then to try and clarify the kind of responsibility those movies situated between art and documentary have towards figures in the past.

The first principle is this: you do not have to include everybody as a character. Both the very powerful and very ordinary may need to be culled away.  For those who are included, not all of them need to be treated as either heroes or villains. Some can simply be characters who help the plot along, like most of us who find themselves in the course of world events. Of those included in the work, if one was a hero in real life, then try to show it in some way. If they cannot be a hero, let them be a character. Do not make them into a villain. In fact, do not make anyone who was not a villain, a villain. At the worst, let them be the comic relief.  If someone was a villain, try not to show them as anything else. Certainly do not make them a hero and if their villainy was an especially banal or standard form of evil, then perhaps it is best to leave them out altogether. Even evil deserves an interesting representation.

Confederate Flag Controversy

They should at least be happy that it's being used as high art.

In an art gallery in Tallahassee, an artist has created an exhibit called, "The Proper Way to Hang a Confederate Flag" which is a confederate battle flag hung in a noose. Personally i think it is provocative, maybe the artist, John Sims should have hung the noose from a tree instead of a gallows because of the connotations of lynching, but I think it is fitting.

Of course the sons and daughters of the Confederacy are in protest over it and apparently it violates a state law that you cannot defile or desecrate the confederate flag, odd that the symbol of an anti-constitutional rebellion is given basically un-constituional protection.

Florida is the last place I would think they would have any sort of feeling for the flag. There were few people there when they joined the rebellion in the Civil War and practically few battles were fought there. If they had won, most of the people in Florida would not be there today. I can't image the Cubans wanting to live there if they still had slavery nor would old Jewish retirees from new York want to head out there either, I would think.

The flag should be considered offensive by everyone, not just because of slavery, but because it represents a group of people who were unhappy with the constitution and pouted and threw a fit and a temper tantrum called the Civil War. The South was run by an aristocratic slave owning elite that essentially were a bunch of crybabies who wanted to run everything in this country and when they saw they wouldn't be able to because Lincoln was elected, they shut themselves up in their rooms and refused to come out.

Remember General Lee killed more Americans than Osama. And don't think because he claimed he was fighting for his state (which I hale originally from, his house is the symbol on my county seal) that his armed struggle was serving just that ends. The nascent country was founded on slavery and slavery alone. State's Rights was not the issue. Anyone who disagrees can read the cornerstone speech. The South didn't care about State's Rights in the War of 1812 and the Mexican American War. It wanted Northern States to prosecute those who helped runaway slaves. They loved the federal government AS LONG AS THEY COULD RUN IT.

And Southern Heritage? What the hell is Southern Heritage? It's an excuse to hang the flag because the young people seem to no longer have been born with an inbred hate of Mr. Lincoln and the sons of Cain. Remember, not all Southerners fought for the Confederacy, many took arms against it. Remember the Black population of the South and how it is a part of that heritage as well, and that they shape how it is defined. What is this Southern heritage? Going to church? People everywhere do that. Respect for property? Seems common too. Owning firearms? Eating the cuisine of the region (which has many sub-variations so I can;t see how this is a "cornerstone" of their heritage)? Despite the accent, the Southern language is not really a dialect and certainly not a separate language. There is certainly a corpus of Southern Literature, but I doubt many of the people who protest the flag have read Faulkner and O'Connor.

The South is a land of many strong, passionate people who have built this country and have struggled to try and overcome the past. Those who would defend the flag and bring it into the Pantheon of essential "Southerness" jepordize the movement away from the scars and battlewounds and threaten to turn the progress of the last century and a half of progress into a lost cause.

(Photo credit of Phil Coale, AP)