Number One Thousand

I've been prattling away here on this space for four years, Ms J. Almost exactly four years. I've written nine hundred and ninety-nine posts. The one you're about to read is number one thousand. Really!

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I went over to the TMC recently (Toronto Maintenance Centre, Ms J. Remember?) and asked for replacements for a couple of keys I’d lost.

All mainline switches have locks on them to prevent vandals, and other thoughtless individuals from turning a switch and causing a high speed train to divert abruptly to another track. It’s happened before and with devastating results: Two engineers were killed a few years ago at Thamesville, near London, when their VIA train suddenly veered off into an industrial spur at ninety-five miles per hour. Some switches now have high security locks instead of the older, lighter style. These new locks are EXTREMELY robust. At CN, I’d be interrogated and berated before being forced to fill out forms in triplicate. In the end, they’d probably have no spare keys to offer me and simply invite me to "do the best you can."

But this is not CN. This is VIA. Here, they provide employees with all necessary tools and always treat people with respect. I took a deep breath and walked in to the office.

“I’ve misplaced a couple of keys,” I explained to my supervisor. “I don’t know what I did with them. They’re around somewhere I’m sure, but I can’t find them.”

“Better fill out an incident report,” he said, pulling a sheet of paper from a file drawer.

“An incident report?” I said. “There was no incident. I just lost my keys. That's all.”

He lowered his head and regarded me over his glasses.

“That’s the incident then, isn’t it? You’ve lost your keys. Write that here at the top, sign it, date it, and take it upstairs. The girl there will get you some new keys.”

I smiled and took the paper from him. He offered me his pen and I wrote:

L-o-s-t k-e-y-s

Then I signed it, dated it, and took it upstairs.

I have new switch keys, Ms J. I like this company. I’m really going to be happy here.

***

Letting Go of GO

Little Ivy was in a play downtown last night. Colleen and I attended with Patricia and Larry, Colleen's mum and dad. It was a brilliant show, Ms J. We were all so PROUD of that little girl! Afterward, Ivy went off with her father for the weekend and we rode the GO train from Union Station back to Mimico. After CN gave away our jobs there, I swore I’d never ride another GO train again. But I did, though, didn’t I? Ride, I mean. It was not enjoyable.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen,” began a young, perky, female voice on the P.A. “This is the 7:43 train. My name is Jennifer and I’m your Customer Service Ambassador. I’m in coach number five. We’re westbound to Aldershot making all stops. Exhibition will be our first stop. Please stand clear of the doors.”

Colleen’s mum was talking to me but I didn’t hear a word she said. I was busy with my own thoughts.

Customer Service Ambassador. Pfff. Gimme a break. Whatever happened to the conductor? Whatever happened to the days when a train ran under the direction of a conductor? An experienced conductor who was qualified in all aspects of train operation? Jennifer. Who the hell is Jennifer? What does she know about railroading? What does she know about tradition or history or the good times and friendships that were lost when that PRICK Harrison gave our jobs away? Nothing! What does this little girl know about the 143 good men and women – experienced railroaders – who were hung out to dry when CN walked away from a contract they’d held for forty years? And what does she care?

I know, Ms J. I know I’m better off than those poor souls for whom VIA is not an option. I’m trying to put the hurt and anger behind me, but .. I’m really struggling with it. I know. I know. I promised Colleen that when I left the parking lot at Willowbrook for the last time, I’d forget about CN and about the GO trains and all the misery there. “You’re off on a new adventure now,” she said gently. “Put the hurt behind you. Leave it there in the parking lot.”

I’m not nearly as bitter as I once was, that’s the Truth. I’m making more money here at VIA, and I’m certainly having more fun. VIA people smile, Ms J. They’re happy at work, proud of the job they do. Management values every employee. It’s an environment that I could only dream about back in my dark days at CN. Yes, I know I have every reason to rejoice in my great good fortune. I truly believe this job was a gift from God. I do, Ms J. And I’m grateful.

But so many people have been hurt by a cold-hearted business decision that was neither necessary nor wise. No one will ever convince me otherwise. I’ve lost friends. Friends have lost jobs. What will become of these people? Why has fortune smiled on me, but brought such sorrow to others?

I want to maintain some of these friendships, but I feel guilty. How can I face these people knowing that my future is bright while theirs is hidden in the uncertainty of murky shadows?

A few CN people opted to quit and join Bombardier early in the takeover process. They hoped thereby to preserve their jobs on the GO trains and to protect their seniority, albeit with another company. They became trainers for the new employees. They were despised for this action. Those who stayed behind at CN called them "scabs" and "traitors." I didn't know what to do, what to say, or what to think. So I said nothing. The fact is, one of those guys was (is) a friend. How do I reconcile all this?

And what about Kirk? Kirk has been a dear friend for years, helping me recover after my leg was broken. It has long been Kirk’s dream to operate a train. He’s a rail buff. Becoming a locomotive engineer is to him, the apex of his career path. Kirk is an employee of Bombardier, the company who was awarded the operating contract for GO Transit. When CN walked away, it was a blessing for my friend. Now, he’ll see his dream come true. I’m happy for him, Ms Journal. I am.

But .. Sighhhhhhhh

It's complicated. Talking about it helps. Thanks for listening.

***

Lately ...

Once in a while, Anvilcloud posts pictures. Only pictures. I guess sometimes he hasn't much to say so he posts a few pics instead. You oughta have a look at his horny cacti from his trip to the Arid Zona a couple of years ago. Awesome! You know, Ms J, a picture is worth a thousand words. And let's face it, when it comes to telling about a Life like mine ... Well, sometimes words aren't worth a pinch o' coon shit.

So here, in illustrated form, in no particular order, is what's been going on in my Life. Lately. (It's good, Ms Journal. It's ALL good!)





















Look at that GO train there. Stupid GO trains. I'm going the other way now.

It's good, Ms J. It's really, really good.

***

What We Did. What I Did. What She Didn't.

We're home from our little holiday, Ms J. Did you miss me? Colleen and I left last Friday to drive east toward the St. Lawrence River. We hoped to do a little adventuring, a little exploring, and to discover more about the country we call home. We had a brilliant time, but it all began rather badly.

I woke Friday morning in a foul mood. My eye was sore. It felt like pink eye … AGAIN! We’d hoped to get away by 10:00 but instead, I spent more than two hours in the local walk-in clinic waiting to see a doctor. Thankfully, I don’t have pink eye. It’s just a sty, infected and red on my left eye. I got some salve to put on it. We were finally on the road at 1:00 where we fought bumper-to-bumper traffic for nearly two hours to reach the outer fringes of this ... city! I abhor summertime construction, Ms J. I hate it. I guess we all do. Two bloody hours to travel forty miles! Believe me, Ms J, this did nothing to improve my mood.

At some point along the way, we began to discuss my absent son (I haven’t seen Dan or heard from him in months) and suddenly, I completely lost my temper and began ranting like a madman and demanding Colleen exit the highway and find an alternate route.

“THIS IS COMPLETELY, TOTALLY, UNACCEPTABLE!” I shouted. “GET OFF THIS FUCKING PARKING LOT, COLLEEN, AND FIND A ROAD WE CAN DRIVE ON!”

Or something to that effect. It was dreadful. Poor Colleen! She had no choice but to endure my anger. She bore it well, though, and remained silent. To her credit, Colleen simply allowed me to feel my feelings and to work through them on my own. My darling ex-wife Kelly would have seized the opportunity to add fuel to my fire until things were completely out of control. Colleen must have thought my behaviour childish, but she said nothing.

I apologized later, but I must try harder to deal with Life’s little annoyances. Clearly, I am disturbed that my son seems to have turned away from me. Kelly is the only possible explanation I can conceive of at the moment. Dan’s been spending time with his son and his manipulative mother. I believe Kelly is upset that Meagan has left her and holds me responsible for it. Stupid woman. Disturbed boy. Confused dad.

But I digress ...

Our trip was fun. We saw lots of pretty sights and I`m confident that Colleen photographed every one of them. Many of them more than once. But what the heck .. That`s the beauty of digital cameras, Ms J. You can take as many pictures as you want. Would you like to see some of them? OK. I thought you'd never ask.



Eventually, we did find some open road and Colleen took advantage of it.

Along the way, we stopped and fished a while at the mouth of the Moira River in Belleville, Ontario. It seems to have become my habit over the years only to fish when it's raining. Dad says fish get more aggressive during a rain storm, claiming they don't like to get wet. We fished but caught nothing.





The storm was short-lived, thankfully, and we ventured further off the beaten path. Soon we found ourselves in lovely Prince Edward County where we spent the night in the picturesque little town of Picton.





On Saturday, we journeyed on through Kingston to the town of Gananoque. That's Ganan-NOCK-way, Ms J. It's pronounced just the way it's spelled. Ha! Kingston is an interesting place. I've been there a dozen times or more by train. Colleen and I went there in June for a little holiday. It's quite pretty, actually, and was for a short time the capital city of Canada. It was decided soon after that it was too close to our bellicose American neighbours and so Ottawa became our new (and permanent) capital.



The photo above is the distinctive dome of Kingston City Hall. And the one below? Believe it or not, this is Collins Bay Penitentiary, home to some of Canada's most infamous criminals. No, Ms Journal, not all of Canada's prisons are built to resemble fairytale castles. Many contain former politicians ... or should.



Gananoque is a tourist town perched on the north bank of the St. Lawrence River, just east of Kingston. I'm not sure what lies on the south side, but I hear it's a foreign land, with a massive military and not to be taken lightly. Or at all. We stayed away from there.

What we did instead, was take a tour of the Thousand Islands that dot this important waterway. The guide told us there are actually 1897 islands, Ms J, but I lost count at 1266.






On Sunday afternoon, we left all that peace and tranquility behind us and followed the herd on Highway 401 back to The Big Smoke. Neither of us was happy to do so, Ms J, but real Life beckoned. We didn't much fancy returning to the responsibility of work and parenthood, but return we must. Real Life is rarely as much fun as the fantasy world of holidays.

I've got to get ready for work now, but I'll leave you with one last photo. This is the world's shortest international bridge, linking a Canadian island with an American one in the St. Lawrence River. It's in the Guinness Book, it is. I looked it up.



***

Yes, Ms Journal ...

I'm still alive. Thanks for worrying about me. I'm still training on the Montreal jobs. I'll spend another week there before moving on to the last two corridors of VIA's territory here in Southern Ontario. My training is nearly half finished. I feel pretty confident on the Montreal/Ottawa portions, but still have a lot to learn.

It sure is a much better place to work than the shit-hole I left behind. So far, I've been given new clothes (hats, scarf, rain gear, winter jacket, spring jacket, ten shirts, and three pairs of pants). I've been sent to take a course in Montreal where all my expenses were covered. I'm being paid full wages for training. And last week, I received a package from VIA with travel vouchers for free travel across all of Canada. The vouchers allow free travel for employees, their "dependents and spouse or companion" from coast to coast in order to "get to know VIA better." And it's all first class, Ms J!

I'm beginning to like this place. I'm moving slowly away from the darkness of anger and bitterness to the Light of something new and good and more than fair. Yup. I'm really getting to like this new employer. All I have to do now, Ms J, is learn how to do my new job.

And I will!



Colleen and I are off tomorrow for a little driving holiday. We thought perhaps we'd head east along the north shore of Lake Ontario toward the St. Lawrence River. I hope the weather is nice. We'll take some photos.

See you later!

***