The streetcar that I ride is classic Christmas green with brown edging. Usually once a week I’ll walk down to the streetcar stop to take a ride. My destinations vary. Yesterday I took the streetcar to visit a High School religion class on Saint Charles Avenue. I spoke to all four classes and at the end of the day got back on the streetcar, a train that does not care about race or sexuality, education or gender. We all sit in the same car (thanks to Rosa Parks) and commence on our respective journeys. One little girl about as tall as my knee told her girlfriend how she couldn’t wait to get home to eat cornflakes, take a hot bath and get a nap in before her momma got home. On another day, the driver spoke to me about the Presidential elections. He was very passionate about his election choice, warning me about the next four years. I thanked him for his observations and got off at the Latter Library. Another time some tourists in front of me were murmuring about how loud it was and how they should have stayed at the hotel to take a nap. I sat on the seat clutching my bookbag, protecting my laptop so it wouldn’t fall. Streetcars are bumpy, you know. The benches are hard so your body feels every movement, every shock of electricity. The lights will dim off and on near Carrollton and Willow. No one announces the stops. You just have to know. There are no maps in the car, just the signs from the windows. As I ride along, I watch the people get on and off and sometimes I hear the driver announce the next stop. She’ll even announce a good place to eat if you listen. This is journey. I’ve learned you have to listen if you want to reach some kind of spiritual maturity. It is a spiritual journey because it is humanity gathered together I see it as nearly as I see my own hand typing these words. It is humanity in the fullest sense, an existential snapshot of the human condition right there on Carrollton and Claiborne.
Stones of Erasmus — Just plain good writing, teaching, thinking, doing, making, being, dreaming, seeing, feeling, building, creating, reading
23.12.23
Meditations Aboard the Saint Charles Streetcar
The streetcar that I ride is classic Christmas green with brown edging. Usually once a week I’ll walk down to the streetcar stop to take a ride. My destinations vary. Yesterday I took the streetcar to visit a High School religion class on Saint Charles Avenue. I spoke to all four classes and at the end of the day got back on the streetcar, a train that does not care about race or sexuality, education or gender. We all sit in the same car (thanks to Rosa Parks) and commence on our respective journeys. One little girl about as tall as my knee told her girlfriend how she couldn’t wait to get home to eat cornflakes, take a hot bath and get a nap in before her momma got home. On another day, the driver spoke to me about the Presidential elections. He was very passionate about his election choice, warning me about the next four years. I thanked him for his observations and got off at the Latter Library. Another time some tourists in front of me were murmuring about how loud it was and how they should have stayed at the hotel to take a nap. I sat on the seat clutching my bookbag, protecting my laptop so it wouldn’t fall. Streetcars are bumpy, you know. The benches are hard so your body feels every movement, every shock of electricity. The lights will dim off and on near Carrollton and Willow. No one announces the stops. You just have to know. There are no maps in the car, just the signs from the windows. As I ride along, I watch the people get on and off and sometimes I hear the driver announce the next stop. She’ll even announce a good place to eat if you listen. This is journey. I’ve learned you have to listen if you want to reach some kind of spiritual maturity. It is a spiritual journey because it is humanity gathered together I see it as nearly as I see my own hand typing these words. It is humanity in the fullest sense, an existential snapshot of the human condition right there on Carrollton and Claiborne.
19.8.22
Photos Taken Near the Bronx River and Two Stories About New York City from Louisianians
A New York City subway train traverses the Bronx River. |
And then, I asked him to imagine what the city smelled like and felt like (using sensory details): “New York is fun and stinky and interesting, like a hot dog.”
When I asked my seventy-something-year-old aunt what people in Louisiana think about New York, she told me a story: “Greig, I would say they think it's too dangerous, but when I went to New York with Uncle Raymond in 1993, that's the only place that I was able to go out at night shopping. Even in New Orleans, even when we lived in Chalmette, I couldn't go out at night shopping. Oh my God. I forgot how many years ago. That was probably twenty-odd years ago. But in New York, I could go shopping. We had a hotel near Times Square, So I was able to go up and down that street without any restrictions in the middle of the night. Do you know? And, um, you know, I never go at night, and Uncle Raymond never let me go anyplace at night.”
3.7.21
A Visit to Chicago, Illinois and a Brief Re-Encounter with a Favorite Painting at the Art Institute of Chicago
In this post, I finish a voyage on Amtrak's Empire Builder route, and stopover in Chicago for a spell where I re-encounter one of my favorite paintings of all time!
Chicago's Millennium Park Near Sunset |
All masked up in Chicago, Illinois |
A Chicago straphanger rides a Red Line train |
One of the Art Institute's Lions |
A Red Line train approaches the station in Chicago. |
I’m also worried about @britneyspears, and I hope she and her lawyers can roll back the strictures placed on her by her conservatorship. Leave Britney alone!
Bonus points — name as many Chicago locations as you can find in my post. Go! The winner receives a free digital download about Mythology from @stonesoferasmus
28.6.21
When You’re at a Crossroads: Take It from Me, It’s Okay to Feel Lost (Notes from the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest)
22.6.21
All Aboard! The Capitol Limited is an Overnight Train between Washington, D.C. and Chicago (And Where I Hung Out with Mennonites)
In this post, I wax lyrical about the joys of long distance train travel via Amtrak. Also, I’ve started a travel log of sorts.
All who wander are not lost. If you know me you probably know I like to travel by train. It's been a bucket 🪣 list of mine to traverse the United States on every @amtrak route in the United States.
So far, I've relegated train travel to the South and North East regions. But, hey. Now that the country is opening up a bit more after a year or more of Covid-19 restrictions, I'm venturing West — along with the Capitol Limited, to Chicago — and stay tuned; later this week, I'm boarding the scenic Empire Builder train. Yay.
And of course, I've already met some fabulous folk. Lonnie is traveling from West Virginia after spending time “with his woman,” and Burke is a college student studying Chemistry. And it appears, this morning, I've just run into a gaggle of giggling Mennonite women just outside of Toledo, Ohio.
What should I do for my four-hour layover in Chicago? See y'all real soon, boo. Sprinkles!
11.4.21
A Paean to Payphones (And Why I Feel Nostalgic for Old School Telecommunication)
When is the last time you used a working payphone? How sure are you that you can find one if your mobile phone goes dead? Do you have a quarter in your pocket?
Found a working payphone in the Times Square / 42nd Street Station in New York City |
Nostalgia is dangerous. Start feeling nostalgia, and suddenly, everything in the present is suspect. "Oh, I remember the days when you had to call someone on a landline."
But I like it when old-school technology still persists. I don't want to return to using payphones. They are clunky (and who has change, anyway?). And just when the conversation gets good, you have to add another quarter to continue the call.
You can find a working payphone in a few subway stations, strip malls, maybe a gas station in Duluth?
I used a payphone recently. I cannot remember why. It was when I was traveling. My phone was dead. I think it was in an Amtrak station (which I feel like is where I would find a working payphone).
Ironically, the school where I work has a payphone in the main hallway. But it does not work. It just hangs there on the wall. Hundreds of people walk by it. Heck. I didn't even notice it until like two years working at the school. I think it will become an art installation. Soon.
Fun fact: Payphones still exist. And one in five of them are in New York City! The Federal Communications Commission still regulates payphones. They still maintain a tip guide for using them and not get scammed when using a calling card. Remember those?
When was the last time you used a payphone?
31.3.21
Spring Break with Jambalaya and Friends and Why I Love Faces (and Portraits!)
In Diversity Plaza in Queens on a Spring Day |
distancing guidelines are still in place, being vaccinated means I can hang out with folks I haven’t been with since March of last year. I saw my friend Michelle and her family, and I made jambalaya for a group of teacher-friends. By the way — the jambalaya was lit 🔥.
25.10.20
On How To Meet a Pontiff (Or, That Day I Attended a Private Audience with John Paul II)
When I was a Roman Catholic Seminarian, and the very young age of nineteen, I was in a private audience with the then Pontiff of the Roman Catholic Church, John Paul II |
To say that I met and chatted with the leader of the Roman Catholic Church would be a stretch. But I did kiss his ring. And I got to see him in his private chapel and in his private library in the Vatican.
I attended a private audience with about twenty-five other people — mostly priests and seminarians. It was the year 2000—around Christmas time—and I was in Rome with other American seminarians from the American College in Leuven, Belgium (where I was a college seminarian at the Catholic University of Leuven). At the time I was studying to be a priest, and our group was invited to have a private audience. The story went that when John Paul II was a seminarian in Krakow, Poland, his seminary was suppressed by the Nazis and apparently, the American College, in Leuven, had sent over, secretly, supplies, books, and the sort, to Poland, as a sign of support and solidarity.
We were in Rome for two weeks, staying as guests at the Pontifical North American College (located on the Janiculum hill) — but we didn't know what day our audience would happen. There are security protocols one follows when scheduled to meet the Pope. The Vatican gave a call to our group leader, a Benedictine priest named Aurelius Boberek, the night before and he then contacted us to be on the ready. We're meeting the pope!
The Bronze Doors |
The night I heard the message I had to scrap my plans for the following day. I was planning to visit the catacombs of Saint Callistus. Oh well, I thought, a papal visit trumps all of that. So we had to wake up early — to arrive at the Bronze doors of the Vatican Apostolic Palace at the crack of dawn. You enter the doors from the right colonnade in Saint Peter's Square. Once we were green-lit to proceed, we were inside the Apostolic Palace — which extends as a grand loggia, designed by the Renaissance artist Raphael. It serves as an official portal and links up with the jumble of buildings that comprise the palace.
John Paul II had a private chapel in the papal apartments, located in the upper floors of what is officially called the Palace of Sixtus V, where he celebrated an early mass. It was so quiet when we arrived one could hear a pin drop. The Pope enters the sanctuary fully vested and he celebrated the Mass in the old Latin rite style — facing the altar (and not facing the people). I think I read one of the readings for the Mass (Or, maybe I read the intercessions. I cannot remember, exactly). So did my classmate Brent Necaise, who was a student with me — I was from Louisiana and he was from Mississippi). Afterward, the Pope's private secretary, a fellow by the name of Stanislaus Dziwisz, escorted us to the private study (or was it the library?) of the Pope.
It was Christmas time, so in the Pope's library there was a stately Christmas tree with ornaments painted with images of John Paul II. I remember thinking that was funny for some reason. I guess if you are Pope you get used to seeing your image affixed to everything from postage stamps, money, and ornaments. I remember all of the furniture was elegant but not overstated. It was a brightly lit room. And there was a wooden barrister bookcase with nicely appointed leather-bound books.
The Pope entered shortly after we had congregated and took a seat in a white plush chair. Everyone in our group lined up to meet him one by one, by kissing his ring, and stating our home state in the United States. When it was my turn he said softly, "Oh. The Mardi Gras," because it was announced I was a seminarian from Louisiana, and when another seminarian said he was from Kentucky he said, "Oh. Race horses." And it went like that — and each of us received a rosary and a holy card.
29.12.19
Christmas Season Travel Report: A Balmy Winter Day in New Orleans (And It’s My Birthday)
I’m traveling with two teacher friends of mine - Michelle and Lauren. They both convinced me it would be a good idea to celebrate Winter break and my birthday in New Orleans. So here we are at the Palace Café on Canal Street.
28.11.19
Photograph: Looking Out the Window at Night
5.10.19
Train Report: Riding the Lake Shore Limited from New York to Cleveland
4.7.19
Dinner at Amherst College's Valentine Dining Hall Yields Dogtime - Plus Some Thoughts on the Fourth of July
For July, I will be a student at Amherst College, studying punishment with Professor Austin Sarat. I am here with fifteen or so educators. We live on campus during our time here as National Endowment for the Humanities Summer Scholars. I am living in a dorm on campus — called the Charles Drew House. The house was once the home of a guy named Seelye who was an Amherst Alum. Now it is a themed-house named in honor of the African American surgeon Charles Drew. Today is a National Holiday — the Fourth of July — so there are no classes, and the college is closed; however, the dining hall is open during the holiday, so those of us who have nowhere else to go can eat here! One of the teachers has a service dog — a Great Dane named Daisy. Tonight for dinner, before watching the Fourth of July fireworks at the University of Massachusetts campus, I chomp on edamame and chicken breast. Daisy joins us. So does Mike - a Catholic High School Theology teacher and Aklima - an English teacher in Flushing — and Matt — a Middle School teacher from Philadelphia. Anne - a social studies teacher from Florida — joins us too.
I am excited to be in a new place. A new environment — even if it is just for a month. After dinner on campus — we pile into a public bus headed for the fireworks display. It is a slab gray bus and the bus driver, sporting a blue tee, flashes a smile, and welcomes us aboard. American fireworks are a display of patriotism - that is for sure — but it is also a day when people do not mind staking out a patch of green, laying out a blanket, and lounging in the dark with a bottle of beer and snacks. I lay on the grass, feeling tired from all of the excitement and take in the show. For such a small town - it feels like everyone is out tonight. The fireworks are colorful and loud — emanating sound and light from the center of the UMASS football field. It transpires in a flash. Lights. Shouts. Ohhhhhs. Ahhhhhs. And darn. The buses are not running to take us home to the Charles Drew dorm. We walk back, up to the hill, past picturesque houses and driveways, to the dorm. I say goodnight to Emily Dickinson. "I dwell in possibility," I say to my pillow. Goodnight.
29.6.19
Travels in Summer: A Cadillac Parked in the River Terrace Neighborhood of Washington Reminded Me of My Childhood
The U.S. Capitol in Washington is so often photographed, reproduced, and televised - it doesn’t feel real. Why is that? Why does the reproducibility of an object produce its unattainable-ness? #questions #self #nation #washingtondc #uscapitoldome
A green Cadillac is parked on a residential street in the River Terrace neighborhood of D.C. |
Flowers on Kingman Island (District of Columbia) |
17.6.19
According to the Tobey Maguire Spider-Man (from 2002) Smart High School Students from Queens Study at the 42nd Street Library
Uncle Ben's Famous Speech: "With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility"
Peter Parker needs to study, so Uncle Ben drives him from their home in Forest Hills in his massive gas-guzzling Cadillac to the front steps of the library. It's there that he gives his famous speech: "With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility." Besides being a motivational speech given by a surrogate father to his maturing son, the address serves as foreshadowing to what's to come. Uncle Ben dies in a shoot-out caused by the trigger-happy actions of a thief (whom Peter Parker was unable to capture). Peter feels directly responsible for his Uncle's death - and it is his death that propels the Spider-Man story forward.
Do Kids from Queens Use the 42nd Street Library to Study?
How many kids from Queens go to the 42nd Street library to study? I am a teacher in Queens, so I really want to know. My experience is that Queens' kids stick to their neighborhoods - be it Jackson Heights or Forrest Hills. So I guess it shows that Peter Parker is an outlier - he chooses to expand his horizons. In reality, if you live in Queens, you are more than likely to use the Queens Public Library - which is actually a separate entity from the New York Public Library - but I digress.
Great Places to Study if You Want to Do a Peter Parker and Get Out of Bed
If you really want a quiet place to study but you don't have Uncle Ben's wheels to take you to Manhattan here are a few of my favorite places to explore in Queens:
- Forest Hills Branch, Elmhurst Branch, and Jackson Heights Branch of the Queens Public Library - these are just three of my favorite branches in the Queens system.
- Museum of the Moving Image - If the weather is beautiful - and you don't mind paying the entrance fee (15 for adults 11 for students and 9 for kids) - the outside patio is a comfortable place to study and read.
- If you are looking for a sweet spot in Jackson Heights try Espresso 77 - but be warned you cannot use a laptop on weekends - and on weekdays laptop people are relegated to a particular table.
- The J, Z, F, M, R, E, G, and 7 trains of the New York City Subway all go into Queens - so grab a metro card and sit, ride, and read (not recommended for very prolonged periods).
8.6.19
Bathroom List: There Ain't No Place to Pee in New York City (Unless You Know a Few Spots)
Photo by Nik Shuliahin on Unsplash |
1.2.19
Ten Things to Do in New Orleans for First-Time Visitors (From a Former New Orleanian)
New Orleans has been governed by the Spanish, the French, and the Americans in its long history. |
Here's my unofficial list of things to do in New Orleans for first-time visitors:
3.11.18
Aesthetic Thursday: A Dandelion Flower Grows on the Side of the Fall River Road in the Rocky Mountain National Park
10.8.18
What does the Great Wall of China Have in Common with Supermarket Swivel Chairs at Checkout?
Guard Tower, Great Wall, Simatai, China © 2017
When I was sitting at this sentry gate at the Great Wall last Summer with our school group - I first thought about the many soldiers who had to man their posts at these gates. Then I thought about swivel chairs (which I will explain in a bit).
The wall is dotted with guard towers like this one in the Simatai portion of the Great Wall north of Beijing. How did the soldiers get up here - what was the supply line like when they had to stand guard and maybe were hungry? How many men or women had to stand guard here? What whispers were spoken? What tragedy was befallen?
I am also sad that Airbnb canceled its prize of a night at the Great Wall. It was a thing, and now it's not.
I am then reminded of today's workers who have to endure jobs where you stand in one place for like eight hours. It boggles the mind that in the United States grocery store clerks have to stand at their posts. Wouldn't it be a great idea if we gave workers at our grocery stores sleek work chairs that swivel?
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30.7.18
Three Observations from People Watching on a Recent Trip to Washington, D.C.
Two women from Nanjing ask me how to find the track in Penn Station for their Amtrak train to D.C. The women are surprised I know how to say "Hello" in Mandarin. Coincidentally, I am boarding the same train, so I help them out. *** On the D.C. Metro
Two deaf teenagers have an in-depth conversation in sign language at the Gallery Place-Chinatown Metrorail station. Their signing is rapid-fire, and they apparently have a lot to talk about. I feel happy for the two of them. ***
N.Y.C., Penn Station Food Court Two would-be customers in the food court at Penn Station at 10:15 in the morning are slightly miffed that KFC and Pizza Hut aren't open yet. ***
The Neighborhood of Anacostia in D.C. When I board the train at the Anacostia Metrorail station, I notice two five-year-old kids seated side-by-side on the train. One of them wears a charcoal gray t-shirt that says: "Cheer up, Dude."
***
East Hall of Union Station, Washington, D.C.
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