No complaints at all for the Long Island Railroad or Amtrak. Eight hours door to door from my hotel room in Westbury to my airbnb studio on Newbury Street in Boston ain’t bad. And though I yearn for the day America will have the kind of high speed rail that Japan and countries in Europe have had for up to forty years, how many of those trains can claim to serve Hebrew National hotdogs in their cafe cars?
I sat in the Quiet Car on the Amtrak from Penn Station to Back Bay in order to get some work done. No loud noises, no music, no cell phone use permitted. I half hoped a little kid would start screaming just to see what the train employees would do, but no such unluck. I was able to get quite a bit of done on three short story mysteries I’m working on: “Asparagus,” “The Case of the Burqa-ed Busker,” and “Prince of the Leafcutters,” which range from 500 to 5,000 words. Hopefully, my intrepid agent, Josh Getzler will see to it they’ll get published someday. Even if they’re not, thinking about how to kill people makes time pass so quickly.
Spring is about two weeks behind Salt Lake City here, but by the time I arrived in Boston it was pretty balmy. Even with my bags it was an easy walk from Back Bay Station to my place on Newbury Street, which is a 3rd floor walk-up in an old brownstone. The layout closely mirrors a similar one I rented around 1978, but this one is nicely modernized, right next to Deluca’s Market, and a ten minute walk to Symphony Hall.
Speaking of which, Mahler Nine tomorrow morning!