The town is dead, so dead I rode my bicycle up to Office Bunker and saw four cars on the roads. A slow day means you don’t get the most exciting news and even Jag called in sick for the scheduled practice. I informed him of the 17th and we’ll see if that gets his nose to the grindstone. There’s today’s trivia. A circular spinning grindstone is a European invention, all other societies used a flat whetstone until we came along.I could have used a scooter today, thus, I am hanging a for sale sign on the Taurus. This is the car the idiot woman who lives here thinks she can call the police on me because it "isn’t legal". Duh. For Christ's sakes, lady, the Mayor's husband has his truck registered in Wyoming for the same reasons. Of course, that is the same dumb bunny who spends twelve hours a day on the phone and thinks she is getting away with not paying rent instead of digging a deep, deep hole. As soon as I get rid of her, I'll buy a nice scooter. Boy, did she turn sour in a hurry the moment she thought she had the upper hand.
Once Jag called in, I set to programming another batch of drum settings on the Zoom, the worst drum box for stage work ever designed. A dreadful thunderstorm kept me at the controls for hours but I’ve got two solid hours of music that is as unique as my bass act without going overboard. If your drum box is easy to use, you are doing it wrong. The Zoom still occasionally drops the first beat. I’ll soon zero in on that although I’ve already learned to ignore it.
The one aspect that makes my work easier is that most of the drum beats in my chosen style of music are similar. A lot of closed high hats and ride cymbals are normal. What most would find unusual are the tempos, which range as high as 244 beats per minute, with an average of 165. Some claim the average is 120 bpm, but such musicians seek to enthrall the audience with technical virtuosity, where I would rather fire them up.
It takes time to incorporate the drum beats, generally more time then to program them. An example would be Johnny Cash’s “Cocaine Blues”. It has a complete stop every verse, but most would hit the drum switch back in on the wrong beat. Listen to it, a bass walk brings in each new verse. However, the drum cuts in at the beginning of the run, not on the downbeat at the end where it is expected. This is almost impossible to duplicate on a drum box. Unless you know how and most people do not. It is attention to such detail that impresses a crowd, not scales, modes, or that increasingly unexciting youTube brand of originality.
Notice in this picture that even the newest and fastest Euro trains still retain the side-facing doors. There is a reason.
It rained eight hours, so I read accounts of railroad innovations. Not spectacular breakthroughs, rather work-a-day developments on the shop floor. I never wondered “out loud” why Euro railways are still so different, so tiny by comparison. In theatricals, you’ll see a huge American locomotive chugging ‘round the bend, yet your classic James Bond is always squeezing past David Niven’s twin along some row of kiddie-kar compartments. Now I know. Euro railways were built with government money while American companies had to raise capital. The English built their railbeds straight and level, regardless of cost, with tiled tunnels and masonry bridges. Americans had to invent the wooden railway tie and follow the contours of the land. They constructed trestles out of economy, not stone. Whereas no point in England is more than 75 miles from the ocean, the longer American routes and higher grades needed more power which in turn meant more fuel and so forth.
To make such trains economical, one must use longer cars, up to 80 feet. Such assembly causes a new center of gravity, a balance that is weakened by side-doors, so American cars have the entrance at the ends, with an “aisle” down the middle and a little platform outside. American cars necessitated swiveling bogies instead of fixed axles so they can or might negotiate sharper bends. That’s also why you see those four tiny wheels on the front of the engine. [Author’s note: Most of the above are my own conclusions, but you can easily verify all these facts on your own.]
It is a pity that railways fizzled, although I don’t entirely buy that theory that they “did not realize they were in the transportation business”. Of course they did, but how does one compete with a government subsidized interstate system or the equally funded Trans-Canada Highway? Worst, the convenience of car travel means most train stations no longer terminate in attractive neighborhoods. (The same is true of airports.) What good is cheap fare when it costs $60 for a taxi once you get there?
Bonus report: When I review my recent plans to travel the “City of New Orleans”, I notice I opted for a private salon without a second thought. I doubt I chose to pay the extra just because it was offered, or to worry that idiots view all privacy as a form of concealment. It just makes sense in terms of comfort and enjoyment to have my own room. Alas, I cannot directly afford this trip, so it remains to be seen how I deal with that. I could afford it in December, but no way am I going north in the winter.
You see, the main problem with the public cars is they let the public ride in them. What’s more, I semi-automatically chose a cubicle with enough space for several people despite my intention to travel alone. This information alone is worth its weight in platinum to future psychologists, you know, at least if the practice isn’t outlawed.
What’s shaping up here is a thoroughly documented train trip to Chicago apt to analyze a good cross-section of modern slash contemporary railway travel. I believe my trip will be enhanced by knowing what to look for and sharing the experience first-hand. Nothing could be as bad as Greyhound. Amtrak, are you listening? Yoo-hoo!
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