Ponder Post: Rails to the Light Side

I bought Rails to the Light Side by Michael Brenner while at the Minnesota Street Car Museum during our trip this September (post for 10/9/18). The author is a Motorman, i.e., a trolley operator, at both the Connecticut Trolley Museum and the Minnesota Streetcar Museum. I initially thought it was a collection of short stories involving street cars / trolleys; but once I turned to the second chapter I realized I had been mistaken. It was a fictional tale of happenings at a streetcar museum that involved interactions with people from the spiritual world – almost like a seance, scenic rail style.

The best part about Rails to the Light Side, and its strongest feature, is the detail the author provides in the running of a streetcar and the running of a trolley museum. I found it fascinating how the brakes were pressurized and depressurized each day, how a motorman must be trained in the sequence to hook up to the overhead line and the timing on braking to successfully stop in an intended location.  The author was obviously well experienced in a job similar to this operator who ran our streetcar the day we visited the Minnesota Streetcar Museum.

I learned that the quality procedures – practiced to assure all electrical hookups to the cars and to guarantee functionality of the rail switches – were complicated but adhered to religiously. In this tale, the museum had been given a grant to extend its rail line for public use. Extensive paperwork was involved. Deadlines to be met were unwavering. I found the machinations and red tape negotiating to allow the use of taxpayers funds to be eye-opening. The author Michael Brenner clearly knew his subject matter inside and out.

The book reads in relatively uncomplicated grammatical form, almost like a book targeted for a young adult audience. I was puzzled at first on how that simplified verbiage got past an editor. Curious, I searched for the publisher of Rails to the Light Side and found none, surmising the book must have been self-published. (... or perhaps it was published by some ephemeral publication company in the heavens above, based on the tone and gist of the story...) The book is written in first person and the reader feels he is right beside the author be it riding on a trolly in motion along the tracks, visiting the storage shed, or performing needed tasks in the power station or active trolley barn. It is a relatively small paperback book, 5" x 8" x ⅝" thick, 237 pages, large font, and a quick read. It is not rocket science but it is enjoyable, in a tongue-in-cheek sort of way. I liked the characters although they could have been developed bit more. Helpful friends repeatedly materializing out of a dense fog in just the nick of time, like avenging souls parading from the realms of the far side, was a corny plot vehicle, but still fun. Because the audience may be limited to a large degree and because the plot was so implausible, I honestly but reluctantly give this book two stars. I learned a great deal and I did enjoy my rides on the trolleys, especially those where we were accompanied by the huge mascot dog, Trolley!

Ponder Post: Every Breath

Every Breath is the twenty-first book written by Nicholas Sparks. He is a favorite author of mine and I have read all his works, even his first publication Wokini (blog post dated 2/23/17), a sort of self-help book that he co-authored with Billy Mills, a member of the Oglala Lakota (Sioux) Tribe. As I sit in front of my computer screen though, I am experiencing writer's block regarding what to say about this book. As I do just about every novel of his, I completed it in one continuous sitting. I remained engaged, and there was Sparks' characteristic twist at the end; but somehow my overall emotion after finishing the book was "ho-hum". There were no tears flowing down my cheeks. When I began to type my review, I had to fetch the book and re-read its title. It does not bode well that I could not recall the title of a novel I had so recently read nor do I even now understand how that title is pertinent.

Every Breath is a love story. Two people, Hope and Tru meet in a chance encounter that sparks instant attraction. They are inexplicably drawn to each other and that spark kindles into something stronger. Hope is at a fork in the road with her six year relationship with her boyfriend Josh. Tru is a safari guide in Africa. They fortuitously happen to dwell temporarily in adjacent seaside cottages so the opportunity is there to act on their impulses. Hope and Tru live worlds apart and each has his own set of commitments. Will love or responsibility dominate? The question is posed, "Does love always require sacrifice?".

The book is written in two parts: the present and 25 years later. In this aspect the book reminded me of the Robert Frost poem The Road Not Taken. The reader does get to catch a glimpse of the pathway not chosen. The final verse of that poem reads

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

A curious mechanism to spin off and revitalize the plot is a mailbox, called Kindred Spirit, on a beach where people write and deposit letters to be read by any traveler who happens to visit the mailbox. The first chapter of the book intimates that a letter from this mailbox was the springboard for this story.

Perhaps, however, Kindred Spirit, real though it may be, is intended only as a vehicle for Nicholas Sparks to insert himself in the book, in the same manner that Alfred Hitchcock would insert himself in his films. If you choose to read this book be sure to also read the Epilogue and the Author's note at the end. The Kindred Spirit tool of this book lent a curious aspect to the novel. One can take a virtual walk to this mailbox on the uninhabited Bird Island of North Carolina via the video embedded in https://islandlifenc.com/the-kindred-spirit-mailbox/, the source of the preceding photo.

Although I enjoyed this relaxing read, I would rate this book a solid three stars in general; but when compared amongst Nicholas Sparks' own works, I would demote that to merely two stars.

Watching William

My daughter-in-law Carrie had to attend a mandatory meeting for her company on Monday through Wednesday November 12-14. Since she is still nursing 7 month old William, she asked if I would stay in the hotel where she was and watch William during the day. She reserved a two bedroom suite at the Residence Inn Marriott in the town of Rancho Cordova about 15 miles east of the Hawthorne Suites where Frank and I stayed in Sacramento for his birthday. This was not coincidence; we planned it that way. On Sunday, Frank and I checked out of our hotel, drove up to attend a small train show in Roseville, at the Placer County Fairgrounds about 20 miles northeast of Sacramento. Then he dropped me off at the Residence in Rancho Cordova before leaving to go back home to Livermore. Carrie arrived at the hotel around 7:30 Sunday evening, November 11th.

William is a happy smiling baby and he took to me right away. This photo is from Monday night, after our first day together. We survived even though the morning and afternoon two hour promised naps never materialized. They were more like one ~20 minutes and one ~30 minutes. But William was mostly happy with only two melt-downs, one occurring right when my son called to see how things were going. He laughed as he heard the answer.

Monday, our first day was non-routine. We were on hold waiting to change rooms. Due to overbooking from rescheduling to house forest fire evacuees, we could not check into the two room suite until later that day. I spent Sunday night on the sofa bed, not extended. Adding a Pack 'n Play, a stroller, a car seat and a spread out quilt full of toys on the floor to the room tended to indicate that opening up the sofa bed seemed too much of a drama to be worth it. Staff was going to come and help me move sometime during the day but still William and I were in limbo trying to manage nap times around staff availability to relocate us. I was learning how to use the bottle warmer. I think the instructions printed on the side label were in 6 point italicized font. When my kids were little I used a pan of boiling water or later a microwave. "You used a microwave for breast milk?...", Carrie exclaimed in horror. Yup. And all three kids survived. Imagine that! Monday night was hard for Carrie because William, who now sleeps through the night, was up several times for her. We suspect teething is the culprit. 

Tuesday, I decided to take the non-napping William on a long stroller ride. He was so so tired – still cheerful, but so so tired. I told his mom "If he falls asleep in the stroller I am just going to leave him in it." She concurred. We walked for about 40 minutes and William was wide-eyed taking in all the scenery. One block from the Residence Inn is the Sacramento Children's Museum so William and I went in for about 40 minutes until it was time for his 1:00 bottle, hopefully to be followed by a long nap.

He liked crawling around on the brightly colored carpet, on a mission to reach an air delivery system that spurted out chiffon kerchiefs.

It was a toss up which was more fun – watching them shoot out or playing with them afterwards. His clothing ensemble that has the crab on the butt has a coordinating shirt. On the front it reads "Pinch me. I'm cute."

William took only a short snooze after his 1:00 bottle but by now I was not expecting much more. Frank arrived late afternoon on Tuesday. Frank would stay over and drive me back home on Wednesday. On Wednesday we asked for a late check out and were granted time until 2:30 pm. Frank and I took William back to the children's museum for a longer visit.

The front of the museum has a lending library of children's books. It is sponsored by McDonald's.

Once inside it was easier with two people interacting with William. If nothing else, one is available to capture the precious moments in photos. William liked the water play, inserting his fingers in the squirting streams of water.

He liked the big fish.

... especially a close up look.

"See Grandpa?" he seems to say as he flashes one of his characteristic smiles.

The museum had seats near the water tables just perfect for infants to sit in and splash. And splash William did!

Of course those seats do tend to fill with puddles of water, as shown by William's butt.

... and by my lap from when I held him. Frank and I took turns holding and hugging William to try to absorb some of the sogginess into our own clothes.

 Here are Frank, Mickey, William, and Donald just chillin' together.

"Hiya, Mickey! How ya doin'?"

The light-brite pegs do emit a soothing glow but they are also very tasty, too. I hope they help emerging teeth.

A fenced in corral area was off to one corner for a wider range of free-crawl. I thought the mural was exceedingly pretty.

Back in the room Frank held a very tired William.

William fell asleep for a short while in Grandpa's arms.

Before we parted on Wednesday afternoon, Carrie took this photo of Grandpa and Grandma and William. All seem very happy! Once Frank and I were home, I took a loooong nap!

Frank's 70th Birthday

Frank’s 70th birthday was on Saturday, November 10th. I’d made him two pumpkin pies on Friday since that is his favorite dessert. Saturday morning we would be driving up to Sacramento and visiting Old Town but they would keep in the refrigerator until he returned home to devour them. Since I believe one has to blow out at least one candle on one's birthday, I’d also bought a piece of carrot cake. 

Friday night shortly after midnight, Frank blew out a candle on that piece of cake and we shared it.

Saturday we left mid morning after dropping Snoopy off at the kennel and set out for Sacramento. Our drive up was smooth and uneventful taking only slightly over an hour and a half, and we arrived at our hotel, the Hawthorne Suites, around noon. The Hawthorne Suites is at the fork between the Sacramento and American Rivers and not far from the Old Sacramento Historic District and California State Railroad Museum. We learned it is a large six building complex, labeled A through F; it was quite a maze, and negotiating it was initially a bit daunting. 

We asked if we could check in early instead of waiting until 3:00 pm and were told our room would be ready by 1:00 or 1:30. The hotel offered a shuttle to Old Town so we took that. It dropped us off right at the California State Railroad Museum, one of our intended sites to visit. 

We wandered in and around the darker slate gray blocks at the far left of the map near the Sacramento River and the docked boat, the Delta King, which is a permanently moored hotel. We would have stayed there but they were fully booked when I made our reservation at the Hawthorne Suites. Oh, well. Maybe next time.

We strolled around a bit in search of a place to eat lunch before immersing ourselves in the train museum. Crossing the street from the California State Railroad Museum this is the view we had looking toward the Sacramento River. The red brick building at the far end houses the Sacramento History Museum, which we had never noticed before on previous visits. I liked the way this photo captured the ambience of the area. The weather was a comfortable, light jacket, temperature in the low seventies and it was sunny. 

But the forest fires further north in Paradise and Chico had contributed a strong smoky smell and slightly cloudy appearance to the air, causing an unhealthy air quality index of 195.

 

We planned to be indoors most of the time. We ducked into the SacTown Sports Bar for lunch.

We sat in a quieter booth away from the bar and the boisterous sports fans. Frank and I could still converse comfortably, but it was fun hearing the cheers and groans erupt sporadically from the other side of that brick wall with its arched openings.

In contrast to that photo I took before we had lunch, I took this one after lunch. I was attracted to the juxtaposition of the old and the new and the rail car all in one composition.

We went to the Sacramento History Museum first.  Frank was drawn to this printing press. It is identical, the same model and make, as one his father had in the basement and used to print on. It is a Kelsey Excelsior Model M and can print a maximum of 3" x 5". It can print small jobs such as post cards, business cards, invitation, etc.

These two fire helmets date back to 1900 for the red one on top and 1890 for the black one beneath.

I wondered, but could never confirm, if the museum building had once been a roundhouse. The arched wall of entry ways as if for trains was along one exterior wall. The black iron fencing in a circle seemed to surround the area once in use as a turntable.

Trains and agriculture played a large role in the region. These colorful produce crates caught my eye. I was sitting down next to them at a low table fiddling with some animal and tractor toys associated with the produce theme, there most likely to entice children to stay and play awhile. A young girl maybe 7 or so asked "May I play with you?" I smiled in amusement, said "Certainly," and pushed some of the toys over her way.

 

We sat and I made small talk, or rather small sounds such as horse whinnies or tractor rumblings. She was somewhat quiet listening to my noises and then said matter of factly, "My mom brought us here to have a good time. We had to evacuate because of the fire and I think our house is gone." I said, "I am so sorry to hear that. What town do you come from?" and she answered "Chico". Chico is about 15 miles east of Paradise, the town consumed by the Camp Fire. Her mom came by the table in a few minutes and confirmed what her daughter had told me. She still had hope that there would be a home when they returned. That short interchange was very sobering and I wonder what happened to that family.  The girl and her mom moved on and I left that area as well. 

The museum had two levels with many displays to browse. I was truly fascinated by the stairway between the two levels. I never could find a vantage point to capture the stairs in their entirety but I was dumfounded by the number of turns and twists and landings. I would not have wanted to be the workman making that shiny metal railing. It took me three photos to capture as much as I did.

Frank and I fooled around with gender reversal as we posed for this final photo before leaving the museum. Hmm... perhaps this was an inkling of the play content we would see later that night

Our next stop was the California State Railroad Museum. We had been there earlier this year as a day trip with Alex in May (post for 5/7/18) but spent a large portion of the time the museum was open on a train ride. Then we'd been through part of the first floor where the full scale rolling stock is and so this time we would start at the third floor where the model train layouts are and work our way down.

The exhibits of layout and train memorabilia are extensive. This collection of Lionel trains is typical of the glass enclosed exhibits. One series of enclosures contained the contents of one dedicated collector's attic. He had shelves and shelves all well organized in and amongst his eaves.

Also from the third floor you could look over and see the full scale rolling stock. A streak of white caught our eye and Frank recognized it as a high speed transport. We had not seen this in the museum before so we went down to investigate. 

Sitting inside seems so spacious and modern. 

I suspect it does not look this way at commute time.

We stopped and perused the gift shop before leaving. We bought Frank this souvenir shirt. With his stamp collecting and love of trains, I talked him into this as a memento of the day. The image so perfectly fits his two hobbies and our visit.

After exiting the railroad museum, we called the hotel shuttle to take us back to check into our room, long after the 3:00 check in time. When we went in to our hotel our reserved room was no longer available; we had to wait for a backup room to be prepared. Our room had been handed out to fire evacuees from the fire spreading through and to Paradise and Chico. Somehow after my short exchange with the mother and daughter in the Sacramento History Museum the inconvenience was put in perspective.

Checking into our room late also postponed our dinner plans. We opted to walk to the nearby restaurant Maya Traditional Mexican Cuisine, adjacent to the property of the Hawthorne Suites where we were staying. The food was excellent, a little milder in its spices and more in keeping with the southwestern flavor I have experienced around Santa Fe.

The mural in the entry was striking.

We told the staff it was Frank's birthday and they helped us celebrate. He was presented with a complimentary dessert, complete with lit candle.

They gathered round and sang Happy Birthday.

And watched and cheered as Frank blew out his candle.

After dinner we rushed off to attend a play for which we had pre-purchased tickets. Finding the theatre was stressful at the time but in retrospect it really was a hoot. Guess what – the historic B Street Theatre of Sacramento is no longer on B street. We wound up late at night in the center of the Blue Diamond nut processing plant. A guard at the gate allowed us to go into the plant far enough to make a U-turn and raised the gate again for us to exit. He gave us directions to the theatre but apparently he did not know it had moved either.

When we finally arrived at 2711 B Street – the address given in Trip Advisor and the one SIRI had used when I request the B Street Theatre – we were fortunate that a woman was working in that building late at night and knew where the new theatre was, at 27th and Capitol. By now it was five minutes until the start of our 9:00 pm show.

The lady – who was nice enough to answer her buzzer intercom for me as I rapped pitifully on the locked glass door in a questionable neighborhood – gave us a rough idea where the theatre company had relocated and SIRI, in an attempt to redeem herself did help us find the way once we gave her the new address. The theatre company now called itself B St. at the Sofia.

The  B Street theatre company had moved to a posh newly built facility in February 2018 whose full name is The Sofia Tsakopoulos Center for the Arts. The new facility houses a 400 seat children's theatre and a 250 seat adult theatre. The photo below is from the web. It was pitch black when we finally found the building and a nearby place to park. We rushed into the theatre, out of breath and frantically looking for the will call window to claim the tickets we had previously ordered on line. Spread out in a single layer on a counter manned by two workers was a whole slew of tickets to be claimed. I guess "the show must go on" does not also mean "the show must go on, on time!" We had a few minutes for a rest room stop before unhurriedly finding our seats and getting settled.

The play we were there to see was called The Legend of Georgia McBride, a 2015 American play written by Matthew Lopez. Per the theatre website:

In this stitch-in-your-side funny play, Casey is an Elvis impersonator working in a Florida Panhandle bar. But when his poorly attended Elvis show is cancelled for the more popular drag queen performers, Casey is despondent. His girlfriend is pregnant and the rent check’s bounced. But to his rescue come Tracy Mills and Miss Anorexia Nervosa who instruct Casey on the finer points of drag performance.

The theatre was intimate, the premise was dubious but the actors were downright comedic in their roles. To see Casey hopping up and down trying to don the garb of a female from panty hose to false butt cheeks to false boobs to false eyelashes to ankle breaking spike high heels to a haphazard wig, and trying desperately to lip synch to a song he has never heard in his life – which is in French also – is hilarious and the actor hams it up as he plays the part extremely well. As Casey becomes more skilled in his role as a drag queen, the singing and dancing become very entertaining in a way that makes the audience suspend all disbelief that these are men – not women – performing. Casey grows in dressing, dancing, and singing skills while also expanding his understanding of the drag queen world and the men who dwell in it. This was a great play to round out a 70th birthday celebration!