The ratio of muddy incomprehensible subway messages to those indicative of a sense of civic pride that makes them worth keeping is certainly steep. Hearing a subway message at all is worth noting on its face. And today I was treated to one of those subtle civil servant performances you can’t get from a recording.
Starting a Delancy (on the F), I only noted two things: the clarity, and depth, of information he provided. With a present but not overbearing outer borough accent, he delivered in the perfect dry monotone, with very occasional modulation for effect. He reminded me very much of Walter at 100 Center Street: droll, full of interesting but perhaps unnecessary information, and girded by one hell of a pension. All things I aspire to.
The subtle wit became apparent as we approached Broadway-Lafayette. After he went very deliberately through the connections came this coda “And the 6 train, downtown only. Reason: unknown.” I looked around to see if anyone noticed, but it was all iPods and poker faces.
Coming up on West Fourth, we were treated to this interjection: “Attention: Sixth Avenue is also know as the Avenue of the Americas”. Also known as. Actually, it’s the reverse, LaGuardia having mandated the change in 1945, but there are some people who don’t accept change well, and clearly our conductor was one of them. As the train entered the junction just south of the station, we passed by an E train, and he dutifully reported that an uptown E was approaching on upper platform — nearly useless information since you have to sprint upstairs to even think about making that connection. Going up Sixth Avenue, we are made aware of the naming confusion several more times (and advised that we had “A full 600 feet of train — please use all available doors”), and finally were treated to a bit of advice regarding a bus transfer at 23rd Street: “Go upstairs, get yourself some fresh air. Take bus transfer.” At that, he finally got a grin or two from some of the departing passengers.
Throughout the trip we were afforded amazingly detailed options for transferring to the 6 (V to 53rd, N to 51st, 6 downtown to Brooklyn Bridge), as if that mysterious non-connection was paramount to full ridership of the train. But I appreciate the rigor, and am pleased to be armed with official information regarding its absence: like any good post-modern quandary, it is unknowable.
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This is the kind of thing you can’t get on the 4/5/6.
The ratio of muddy incomprehensible subway messages to those indicative of a sense of civic pride that makes them worth keeping is certainly steep. Hearing a subway message at all is worth noting on its face. And today I was treated to one of those subtle civil servant performances you can’t get from a recording.
Starting a Delancy (on the F), I only noted two things: the clarity, and depth, of information he provided. With a present but not overbearing outer borough accent, he delivered in the perfect dry monotone, with very occasional modulation for effect. He reminded me very much of Walter at 100 Center Street: droll, full of interesting but perhaps unnecessary information, and girded by one hell of a pension. All things I aspire to. The subtle wit became apparent as we approached Broadway-Lafayette. After he went very deliberately through the connections came this coda “And the 6 train, downtown only. Reason: unknown.” I looked around to see if anyone noticed, but it was all iPods and poker faces.Coming up on West Fourth, we were treated to this interjection: “Attention: Sixth Avenue is also know as the Avenue of the Americas”. Also known as. Actually, it’s the reverse, LaGuardia having mandated the change in 1945, but there are some people who don’t accept change well, and clearly our conductor was one of them. As the train entered the junction just south of the station, we passed by an E train, and he dutifully reported that an uptown E was approaching on upper platform — nearly useless information since you have to sprint upstairs to even think about making that connection. Going up Sixth Avenue, we are made aware of the naming confusion several more times (and advised that we had “A full 600 feet of train — please use all available doors”), and finally were treated to a bit of advice regarding a bus transfer at 23rd Street: “Go upstairs, get yourself some fresh air. Take bus transfer.” At that, he finally got a grin or two from some of the departing passengers.
Throughout the trip we were afforded amazingly detailed options for transferring to the 6 (V to 53rd, N to 51st, 6 downtown to Brooklyn Bridge), as if that mysterious non-connection was paramount to full ridership of the train. But I appreciate the rigor, and am pleased to be armed with official information regarding its absence: like any good post-modern quandary, it is unknowable.